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    2024 Ferrari Purosangue Takes the SUV into the Realm of the Exotic

    At some point, a memo must have gone out. It decreed that all super-SUVs would hew to the same template: twin-turbo V-8, a torque-converter automatic transmission, and full-time all-wheel drive, all stuffed into a rakish but conventional four-door body. That’s the formula as practiced by Mercedes-AMG, Porsche, Maserati, BMW, Aston Martin, Lamborghini, and Audi. Ferrari, though, didn’t get the memo. Thus its first SUV, the Purosangue, uses a 715-hp naturally aspirated 6.5-liter V-12 and a rear-mounted dual-clutch transaxle. Power to the front axle is delivered by a separate two-speed transmission that’s only active in conjunction with the rear axle’s first four gears. The rear doors are rear-hinged and power-operated, offering primo access to a pair of heated, ventilated, massaging back seats. And there’s Multimatic’s TASV spool-valve active dampers, four-wheel steering, and bodywork that has more aero tricks than a Formula 1 car. Ferrari was cognizant that its first SUV had to be something special, and the resulting effort will make a fine companion piece to whatever other exotics populate a given garage, valet line, or secret underground lair.You could say there was some parts-shelf engineering at play with the Purosangue, but that’s an agreeable arrangement when the parts come from the 812 Superfast, with which the Purosangue shares its dry-sump, direct-injected F140 V-12. Here, that lusty mill is tuned for more bottom-end torque (80 percent of its 528-pound-feet maximum is available at 2100 rpm) but still good for an 8000-rpm redline. The front transmission is derived from the one that debuted in the FF and is driven off the nose of the engine, with two clutches that enable front-axle torque vectoring (and allow the two-speed front transmission to match wheel speed with the first four forward gears of the rear transaxle). The Purosangue’s long hood isn’t just for stylistic effect, given the packaging challenges of mounting a transmission in front of a V-12. Ferrari claims a zero-to-62-mph time of 3.3 seconds, which seems plausible, if not conservative.For most cars, a screaming V-12 would be the defining piece of hardware, but the Purosangue’s engine costars with its suspension, which uses 48-volt electric motors at each corner to actively level the body. Instead of merely reacting to uneven pavement, the Purosangue’s four suspension assemblies compare notes every 50 milliseconds to smother bumps by either lifting or lowering each wheel independently. But the system isn’t entirely motor-based. The electric motors work in tandem with a traditional spring and damper, so they’re not doing all the work—more like providing timely nudges to enhance the returns.It’s almost hard to say exactly how well the system works because we’d need to visit a well-known road for a frame of reference. As it is, pavement that looks like it should deliver a shattering ride simply doesn’t. All is serene and locked down, such that the dampers’ Sport setting is mostly performance theater—even with the suspension in its softest setting, body control is precise. The enormous 22-inch front tires and 23-inch rears feel like they have BFGoodrich KO2 sidewalls while simultaneously delivering instantaneous response. There’s no side-to-side head toss caused by the anti-roll bars because there are no anti-roll bars. In fact, the electric motors would allow the Purosangue to lean into corners if Ferrari programmed it that way. When we asked a Ferrari engineer if the Purosangue could theoretically leap over an obstacle in the road, he thought about it and said yes. He wandered away before we could ask about the possibilities of three-wheel motion or Carolina squatting.Since the Purosangue will be expected to handle some light off-road work, by which we mean climbing speed bumps in Bal Harbour, the suspension has a lift setting. But lifting the body requires the motors to stay powered up, so you can’t drive around that way all day. In fact, the motors work hard enough in daily driving to require their own heat exchanger and cooling circuit. And while the hardware is from Multimatic and could theoretically end up on other cars, the control software was done in-house by Ferrari engineers, and we’d guess they’re not sharing notes. So, for now, if you want active suspension, you’ll need $402,050 to order a Purosangue. (That’s the $393,350 base price, plus a $5000 destination charge and the $3700 gas guzzler tax incurred by EPA ratings of 12 mpg city and 16 mpg highway.)View PhotosThat electric motor on the left powers a gear that spins a ball screw to drive the strut up or down near-instantaneously. The four motors are powerful enough to require their own cooling system.Ezra Dyer|Car and DriverWith its torque vectoring, active suspension, and four-wheel steering, the Purosangue manages to feel calm and planted on straightaways while retaining the ability to scythe into corners the moment you turn the wheel. The rear-axle steering system, adapted from the 812 Competizione, can steer each wheel independently up to two degrees—so, for instance, the outside wheel can help the rear end follow the nose into a corner, and Ferrari adjusts the toe under braking and hard acceleration to lend stability. At low speeds, as in a parking garage, the instrument cluster’s camera display shows green traces that predict your steering path, including one for the inside rear wheel to remind the driver that there’s steering going on back there too.This phalanx of hardware and software operates so harmoniously that you’re seldom reminded of the fiendish complexity operating behind the scenes, the ones and zeros flitting across all those wiring harnesses, the clutches slipping and gears engaging somewhere down below the floorpan at just the right moments. It all just jells into a big, fast car that seems to be good at everything. The only time you’re reminded of the Purosangue’s vast catalog of elaborate systems is when you’re forced to interact with some of them through the steering wheel, which is where Ferrari saw fit to put, oh, all of the controls. Ferrari crammed so many buttons and knobs and haptic touchpads on the front of the steering wheel that it ran out of space and had to start strewing controls across the back of it too—changing the audio source requires locating a tiny nub of a button behind the right steering-wheel spoke, and that nub is located next to a toggle switch that controls track selection, which is also within a stray finger’s reach of the right shift paddle, and the right turn signal button, and a haptic pad that controls the instrument cluster display and menus, and the windshield wiper and washer activation button, and the wiper settings knob, and the manettino lever that controls drive modes and suspension settings. “What if I accidentally touch that haptic pad while I’m diving into Turn 3 at Imola?” you ask. Good question. Ferrari anticipated that, which is why those buttons don’t respond until you touch them twice, thus implying intention. If we have time later, we’ll tell you about the left side of the steering wheel. More Ultra-High-Performance SUVsThe sole physical control on the dash is a round knob that belongs to the climate-control system. It’s flush with the dash but powers out when you touch it. You then access settings by spinning the knob and jabbing at its tiny touchscreen to activate the seat heaters, say, or massage function. (There’s an identical knob between the rear bucket seats.) To the left and right of the knob are a few more haptic controls hiding behind glass, controlling specific functions like the rear-window defroster and suspension lift. The only large touchscreen is in front of the passenger seat, deliberately inaccessible to the driver, and that one provides the kind of display you might expect to find in the center of the dash—here there’s room to spell out “shiatsu” on the massage options or show cover art for your Def Leppard greatest hits playlist. The rear seats—which instantly clear the low bar of “best back seats ever in a Ferrari”—are accessed via power-operated rear-hinged doors that operate completely independently of the front doors. To open one from the outside, you pull and hold a small lever along the bottom of the window that will look familiar to anyone who’s driven a Ford Mustang Mach-E, a cohort that evidently doesn’t include anyone at Ferrari (this is the company, after all, that used the code name F150 for the LaFerrari). A button on the B-pillar closes the doors. This is the kind of cool trick you can include when you don’t really care about weight—Ferrari quotes a dry weight of 4482 pounds in the lightest configuration, but the reality is more like 4800 pounds. Which still makes for a fine power-to-weight ratio, but only because there’s so much power.Then again, this isn’t a sports car. The V-12 makes pretty sounds but keeps them to a dull roar, probably to the delight of Tubi, which will surely do a brisk business in uncorked Purosangue exhaust systems. There’s a launch-control position for the stubby metal-console shift lever, but no track setting on the manettino. The various aerodynamic tricks—underbody diffuser, air curtains to keep airflow attached to the side of the car, hidden ducts and channels in the bodywork—are optimized for cooling and drag reduction rather than ground-hugging downforce. Ferrari resisted the temptation to build a jacked-up F8 Tributo, and that was the right call. Two decades after Porsche rolled out the Cayenne, we ought to be done with the hand-wringing over whether sports-car companies should build SUVs, but surely there will be Ferrari fans who tsk-tsk the company for daring to offer a vehicle that lots of people will want to buy. We’re sure Ferrari will worry a whole lot about those pills as the Purosangue prints money and inevitably becomes the bestselling model in the lineup. And anyway, people who can spend $400,000 on an SUV probably don’t face the binary choice of Purosangue or sports car. They’ll get both. But if, cursed by fate, you can somehow only have one Ferrari? Then this is the one to have.Arrow pointing downArrow pointing downSpecificationsSpecifications
    2024 Ferrari PurosangueVehicle Type: front-engine, all-wheel-drive, 4-passenger, 4-door wagon
    PRICE
    Base: $402,050
    ENGINE
    DOHC 48-valve V-12, aluminum block and heads, direct fuel injectionDisplacement: 396 in3, 6496 cm3Power: 715 hp @ 7750 rpmTorque: 528 lb-ft @ 6250 rpm
    TRANSMISSION
    8-speed dual-clutch automatic
    DIMENSIONS
    Wheelbase: 118.8 inLength: 195.8 inWidth: 79.8 inHeight: 62.6 inCargo Volume: 17 ft3Curb Weight (C/D est): 4850 lb
    PERFORMANCE (C/D EST)
    60 mph: 3.2 sec100 mph: 7.5 sec1/4-Mile: 11.7 secTop Speed: 193 mph
    EPA FUEL ECONOMY 
    Combined/City/Highway: 13/12/16 mpgSenior EditorEzra Dyer is a Car and Driver senior editor and columnist. He’s now based in North Carolina but still remembers how to turn right. He owns a 2009 GEM e4 and once drove 206 mph. Those facts are mutually exclusive. More

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    2022 Aston Martin Valkyrie May Be the Ultimate Wild Ride

    Few cars have been as hotly anticipated as the Aston Martin Valkyrie. Or have involved such a long wait. The first announcement that Aston Martin and Red Bull Racing were going to collaborate on what was originally called the AM-RB 001 came all the way back in March 2016. Since then, there have been the first renderings, confirmation of the Valkyrie name, announcements of the track-only AMR Pro and Spider variants, the sadly unrealized plans to take it racing, an in-depth look at the Cosworth 6.5-liter V-12 that powers it, a tour through the configuration process, a simulator drive, and a right-seat experience at the 2021 Goodwood Festival of Speed riding shotgun to Aston’s then-CEO Tobias Moers. Nor has it all been smooth sailing, with mounting delays and an as-yet unresolved legal dispute over deposits with a Swiss dealer group. Now, finally, we have driven it.More from Aston MartinLet’s start with the good news for adrenaline-hooked billionaires still waiting to take delivery: The finished car absolutely fulfills designer Adrian Newey’s promise that it would be the most extreme factory-built vehicle ever to wear license plates and faster than most genuine race cars. And although our first experience was limited to the 3.36-mile Bahrain International Circuit, it was in a fully street-legal car on road tires. Okay, so for American buyers, street-legal is a misnomer, as the Valkyrie can only be imported under “Show and Display” requirements—so no commuting or using it to haul lumber from Home Depot. But in Europe, Aston has gone to the considerable cost and complication of securing full homologation. That required the use of what design director Miles Nurnberger proudly introduces as the world’s smallest and lightest rear license plate lamp, which sits on the end of the rear-hung sequential gearbox casing. The Valkyrie’s need to accommodate human cargo was always a low priority in the packaging of the car, with Newey attaching far greater importance to aerodynamic requirements. Yet while the passenger compartment is tiny, it could have been even smaller—Nurnberger recounts a meeting at which he managed to persuade the famous designer to free up an extra 8 millimeters of space (that’s 0.3 inch), a concession that won him a round of applause from the engineering team. “Nobody could remember Adrian having given up more than 1 millimeter before,” Nurnberger says. That concession, however, has not created a spacious cabin; the Valkyrie is a car that’s worn rather than sat in. Climbing in requires an inelegant shuffle over the sidepod and then collapsing into the carbon-fiber racing seat. Once you’re in place, a movable pedal box allows taller drivers to find some legroom, but even with the seat’s modest amount of padding removed, an average-height driver’s helmet-clad head still touches the roof once the door is closed.The 6.5-liter V-12 is the standout highlight, to no surprise. Indeed, it dominates the driving experience to the point of stealing every scene. There is a pause after you press the start button on the steering wheel—then the engine cranks for several seconds to build oil pressure before bursting into raucous life. It is loud idling at 1000 rpm, even through the padding of a helmet, and there is roughly another 10,000 rpm to go before it meets its limiter. But getting rolling from the pit lane is a surprisingly gentle process; there is a launch-control system, but, left to its own devices, the Valkyrie sets off powered exclusively by the 141-hp electric motor that’s fed by a 1.7-kWh battery made by Rimac and sits between the V-12 and the seven-speed transmission. (With no reverse gear, backing up is always done electrically.) The clutch engages to connect the engine with the wheels soon afterward.Our first laps on track are mostly spent trying to acclimate to the savagery of the performance. The Valkyrie is a car beyond mere numbers, however impressive the claimed 2.5-second zero-to-60-mph time and electronically limited 220-mph top speed sound. Those figures are well within the frame of reference for hypercars, yet the experience of the Valkyrie truly is not. This is a car that makes a Koenigsegg One:1 seem refined and subdued.Much of the sense of anarchy is down to the Valkyrie’s combination of noise and vibration when revved. The meshed cogs that drive its camshafts are just inches on the other side of the firewall, and reaching the altitudinous redline brings an almost painful cacophony. But it is also down to the engine’s character and the immediacy of its responses, the complete lack of delay between pressing the accelerator and feeling the reaction. With a combined peak of 1139 horsepower working against a mass of under 3000 pounds, the Valkyrie is hugely fast. At the end of the circuit’s longest straight of 0.6 mile, the digital speedometer shows 300 km/h—186 mph—and that’s using a conservative braking point. Yet subjectively it feels even quicker than that. We spent little time in the chassis’s Urban and Sport modes, both of which are intended for road use. Selecting the most aggressive Track function both causes the active suspension to reduce the ride height and brings the option of a variable traction-control setting. So sharpened, the Valkyrie soon proves that corners can be more than a break between the chance to unleash hell on the straights. Grip is one area where the Aston doesn’t feel otherworldly. Riding on street-legal Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2 tires means there is less raw adhesion than there would be riding on slicks. The hydraulically assisted steering delivers crisp, unambiguous feedback, and turn-in is keen, but the traction control intervenes hard when you’re trying to overlap steering and accelerator inputs. Yet it’s not snappy or scary, even when pushed and with the traction control turned down. Higher speeds bring the extra assistance of downforce from the active wings and diffuser—Aston claims a peak of 2400 pounds of downforce at any speed from 135 mph on up. Faster corners can be taken at what feels like impossible speeds. (Fun fact: The powered flaps within the huge venturi tunnels are colloquially referred to by Aston’s mechanics as “cat flaps.”) Even in the flattering environment of a race circuit and surrounded by mechanics, there were a couple of issues. The car’s brake pedal had a dead patch at the top of its travel, and its resistance softened a couple of times during bigger stops, although the actual level of retardation felt undiminished. The Valkyrie’s engine also cut its redline when the coolant got too hot. Aston blamed Bahrain’s high ambient temperatures, and driving in high gear for half a lap cooled things down and restored the correct rev limiter.While racetracks are huge fun, they’re a poor analog for discovering how any car will deal with the real world. The Valkyrie will always feel massively compromised on ordinary roads. It is cramped, hot, and loud enough to damage its occupants’ hearing without ear protection. Cosworth also says that the engine should be rebuilt every 50,000 miles, a figure we hope some owners will regard as a challenge rather than a threat. Yet none of that diminishes the appeal of what is definitely a pinnacle car, its many compromises drawn directly from its famous designer’s refusal to compromise on his vision. Which is what makes it a masterpiece.Arrow pointing downArrow pointing downSpecificationsSpecifications
    2022 Aston Martin ValkyrieVehicle Type: mid-engine, mid-motor, rear-wheel-drive, 2-passenger, 2-door coupe
    PRICE
    Base: $3,500,000 (est., in Europe)
    POWERTRAIN
    DOHC 48-valve 6.5-liter V-12, 1001 hp, 575 lb-ft + AC motor, 141 hp, 206 lb-ft (combined output: 1139 hp, 682 lb-ft; 1.7-kWh lithium-ion battery pack)Transmission: 7-speed automated manual
    DIMENSIONS
    Wheelbase: 109.0 inLength: 177.4 inWidth: 75.6 inHeight: 41.7 inPassenger Volume: Barely ft3Trunk Volume: Doubtful ft3Curb Weight (C/D est): 2850 lb
    PERFORMANCE (C/D EST)
    60 mph: 2.3 sec100 mph: 3.8 sec1/4-Mile: 7.7 secTop Speed: 220 mph
    EPA FUEL ECONOMY
    Combined/City/Highway: Not homologated for U.S. highway useCar and driverCar and driver Lettermark logoEuropean EditorMike Duff has been writing about the auto industry for two decades and calls the UK home, although he normally lives life on the road. He loves old cars and adventure in unlikely places, with career highlights including driving to Chernobyl in a Lada. More

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    Tested: 2023 McLaren Artura Is the Second Coming

    From the April 2023 issue of Car and Driver.It’s hard to believe McLaren has been in the road-car game for little more than a decade. (Granted, it was nearly 30 years ago that the McLaren F1 became the be-all and end-all for enthusiasts, but McLaren didn’t produce another street car for years afterward.) Since 2011, the storied Formula 1 brand has launched several root models and completely upset the supercar hierarchy that a pair of Italian companies had long dominated. And while all of those models, including the MP4-12C, the 570S, the Senna, and the 720S, have their own character, they’ve all shared a very similar set of components. The Artura is new, and not like your favorite streaming service’s latest round of reboots. New as in never before. Think Severance, not Bel-Air. For all intents, it is McLaren’s second series-production car. And it’s a plug-in hybrid. This content is imported from youTube. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site.McLaren Artura 0–190 MPHWatch onYouTube IconYouTube IconThe Artura’s 181-pound carbon-fiber tub looks a lot like the old one manufactured by Carbo Tech in Austria, only it’s stronger and lighter and has a cavity that incorporates the audio system’s subwoofer. It’s also now made in-house at McLaren’s carbon-fiber factory in Sheffield, England. The engine, a 120-degree 577-hp twin-turbocharged 3.0-liter V-6, is more of a departure. All McLarens before (except the F1, with its BMW V-12) used a V-8 displacing 3.8 or 4.0 liters. Compared with the V-8, this new V-6 is about 110 pounds lighter and shockingly small. Like “I didn’t know the original Mini was that small” small. The eight-speed dual-clutch transaxle is about the same size as the old seven-speed, thanks in part to its lack of a reverse geartrain, but it now incorporates McLaren’s first application of an electronically controlled limited-slip differential. All reversing is strictly electric, provided by the motor, a 94-hp axial-flux unit, spinning backward. The motor is just upstream of the transmission input. It’s a power-dense ring that a drunk Ultimate Frisbee player would attempt to discus toss should one be unguarded at closing time. The front suspension still uses control arms, but the rear is now a multilink design said to improve stiffness and reduce deflection. There’s no hydropneumatic suspension here; it’s coil springs and anti-roll bars just like in the GT that sits below the Artura in the lineup.That’s a lot of time spent telling you about the new hardware. But it seems worthwhile because this car launch almost broke the company. McLaren is arguably the smallest, least supported supercar manufacturer selling federalized cars, and rumors of receivership swirled when the Woking-based brand leveraged its lustworthy fleet of historic racers to pay for the expensive development of a new electrical architecture and plug-in-hybrid engineering. Remember, Lamborghini and Porsche have the Volkswagen Group’s deep pockets, and Ferrari, which has been building street cars for more than 70 years, had Fiat backing until fairly recently. HIGHS: Solid rocket-booster acceleration, all-day comfort, beautiful exterior.We are happy to tell you that despite the apparent engineering and financing trouble, the product is worth the wait. Its silhouette is pure speed, like that of a falcon in a 200-mph dive. We were worried that the added mass of a motor (which turned out to be a heavy plate) and the 7.4-kWh lithium-ion battery would ruin the McLaren feel we’re accustomed to. But at 3443 pounds, the car is lighter than a Corvette Z06 and very likely lighter than the Ferrari 296GTB (we’ll know for sure when we test one). The extra weight is so low in the car—and the engine sits entirely below the top of the wheels—it seemingly anchors the Artura to the road. On a flat proving-ground skidpad, the Pirelli P Zero Corsa PZC4 tires stick at 1.08 g’s, and 1.07 are usable on the open road. Turn-in is crisp, and feel—from an electrohydraulic assist—is the best in the business. Resistance builds naturally, then tapers off just before understeer arrives. The chassis balance is much more benign than in the tail-happy 570S, but still far from boring. It safely pegs the public-road fun meter in the red. More on the ArturaThis is a good thing because the car can generate extralegal speed in extra-short time. Hitting 60 mph in 2.6 seconds may be Z06 territory, but the McLaren walks away from the American at higher speeds, reaching 100 mph in 5.5 seconds and completing the quarter-mile in 10.3 seconds at 140 mph. Even the similarly priced Porsche 911 Turbo S Lightweight, which beats the McLaren to 60 and in the quarter (danke, all-wheel-drive traction), is a second slower to reach 180 mph. A 720S is much quicker, but the soon-to-be-replaced 720S also starts some $73,000 higher than the $237,500 Artura. This Volcano Blue example stickers for $284,925, and the vast majority of the options are aesthetic, not functional.LOWS: No more V-8 feels, could be more playful at the limit, and, you know, the price.We didn’t do an official range test of the hybrid system, but we successfully drove the Artura in EV mode for 13.5 miles. About five of those miles were on a 55-mph road, and the remainder were on the highway, very near EV mode’s 81-mph top speed. The motor couldn’t maintain that speed on steep grades. Even so we didn’t need to wake the V-6 on the freeway. The EPA electric-only range of 11 miles is very achievable. On the rest of our drive, we averaged 18 mpg, matching the EPA combined estimate. Rocker switches on the instrument binnacle are a close reach from the steering wheel and provide the ability to change the various powertrain modes (Electric, Comfort, Sport, Track) and chassis modes (Comfort, Sport, Track). The wheel and binnacle move in concert when adjusting for rake and reach. Like Ferrari, McLaren doesn’t want drivers to take their hands off the wheel any more than necessary. Unlike Ferrari, McLaren’s answer wasn’t to put more buttons on the wheel than a BlackBerry has keys. McLaren’s steering wheel is all but unchanged and still devoid of switches, knobs, or toggles. Mash the center for the horn. When left in the Comfort powertrain mode and asked for more thrust than the motor can offer, the Artura occasionally pauses before firing the engine, as if to ask, “Do you really want ketchup on your hot dog?” The slow compliance serves as a sort-of eye roll. Sport mode keeps the engine on and is a great midpoint. Same goes for the chassis modes, but in the other direction; Track feels overdamped on anything but glasslike tarmac. Sport-Sport is the hot setup. The Artura uses no regenerative braking, and the brake booster is a vacuum type (albeit powered by an electric pump), so the feel is very familiar. Stops from 70 mph take 141 feet, and from 100 they require 279 feet—good, but not great. McLaren programs the motor to induce a relatively small drag torque and recoup energy from the engine, except when you floor it. You can ask the car to charge itself faster, and Sport and Track modes always keep the battery sufficiently juiced to deliver peak performance. Driver-requested recharging using the engine isn’t very efficient, but it gives owners the ability to manage the state of charge while on the move. VERDICT: McLaren 2.0.About the only thing we don’t love is the new V-6. It goes like hell, but a V-6, even one with an 8200-rpm redline, can’t make the same sounds as a flat-plane-crank V-8. The Artura has an exhaust system that is silent. McLaren calls it a chimney. Radiator fans move air over the turbos in the valley of the V. Look in the rearview and heat waves distort everything behind you. While the chimney never makes a sound, the visual distortion it creates sends a message to the driver that what is ahead is what matters, and what’s ahead are more hybridized supercars. We can’t wait for the next one.CounterpointAll frustrations about getting into the steep gas-station driveway evaporate as I am called “fierce” by a cool teenager and “fabulous” by a grizzled biker in immediate succession. That I can’t exit the vehicle over the massive carbon door sill is unimportant. Who needs to get out of a car when you look so good in it? This is the Artura in a nutshell. Small imperfections are forgotten amid an overall sense of glamour and speed. The move from motor to engine needs tuning, because the car surges at low speed. So stay at high speed—putting the pedal down turns the scenery to ribbons. Go fast, fierce, and fabulous. —Elana ScherrAny bench-racing critics suggesting the Artura is only marginally quicker than a Corvette Z06 are looking at it wrong, akin to saying Usain Bolt wouldn’t be that far ahead of you in a footrace after the first 10 feet. The Artura and the Z06 are in a dead heat to 70 mph, but then it’s all McLaren, which is traveling 9 mph faster at the quarter-mile and gets to 170 mph a massive 8.8 seconds sooner, needing 0.4 mile less runway to do so. To the one pinning the pedal, the difference is breathtaking. —Dave VanderWerpArrow pointing downArrow pointing downSpecificationsSpecifications
    2023 McLaren ArturaVehicle Type: mid-engine, mid-motor, rear-wheel-drive, 2-passenger, 2-door coupe
    PRICE
    Base/As Tested: $237,500/$284,925Options: Volcano Blue paint, $9500; Performance Spec, $9400; Technology package, $7400; Dark Stealth Diamond Cut wheel finish, $7150; sport exhaust, $6850; Black package, $3125; McLaren Orange brake calipers, $2200; Gloss Black interior package, $1600; warning triangle and first-aid kit, $200
    POWERTRAIN
    Twin-turbocharged and intercooled DOHC 24-valve 3.0-liter V-6, 577 hp, 431 lb-ft + AC motor, 94 hp, 166 lb-ft (combined output: 671 hp, 531 lb-ft; 7.4-kWh lithium-ion battery pack; 3.3-kW onboard charger)Transmission: 8-speed dual-clutch automatic
    CHASSIS
    Suspension, F/R: control arms/multilinkBrakes, F/R: 15.4-in vented, cross-drilled carbon-ceramic disc/15.0-in vented, cross-drilled carbon-ceramic discTires: Pirelli P Zero Corsa PZC4F: 235/35ZR-19 (91Y) Extra Load MC-CR: 295/35ZR-20 (105Y) Extra Load MC-C
    DIMENSIONS
    Wheelbase: 103.9 inLength: 178.7 inWidth: 75.3 inHeight: 47.0 inPassenger Volume: 50 ft3Trunk Volume: 5 ft3Curb Weight: 3443 lb
    C/D TEST RESULTS
    60 mph: 2.6 sec100 mph: 5.5 sec130 mph: 8.8 sec1/4-Mile: 10.3 sec @ 140 mph150 mph: 11.8 sec170 mph: 16.1 secResults above omit 1-ft rollout of 0.2 sec.Rolling Start, 5–60 mph: 3.2 secTop Gear, 30–50 mph: 2.0 secTop Gear, 50–70 mph: 2.6 secTop Speed (mfr’s claim): 205 mphBraking, 70–0 mph: 141 ftBraking, 100–0 mph: 279 ftRoadholding, 300-ft Skidpad: 1.08 g
    C/D FUEL ECONOMY
    Observed: 18 MPGe
    EPA FUEL ECONOMY
    Combined/City/Highway: 18/17/21 mpgCombined Gasoline + Electricity: 39 MPGeEV Range: 11 mi
    C/D TESTING EXPLAINEDExecutive EditorK.C. Colwell is Car and Driver’s executive editor, who covers new cars and technology with a keen eye for automotive nonsense and with what he considers to be great car sense, which is a humblebrag. On his first day at C/D in 2004, he was given the keys to a Porsche 911 by someone who didn’t even know if he had a driver’s license. He also is one of the drivers who set fast laps at C/D’s annual Lightning Lap track test. More

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    From the Archive: Eleven 1990 Compact Sports Coupes Comparison Test

    From the June 1990 issue of Car and Driver.Everyone needs transportation. But not all of us have the inclination or the wherewithal to shower ourselves with Testarossas or Corvettes or even MR2s. Still, that doesn’t mean we have to forego stylish design or driving pleasure in the interest of practical transport. Quite the contrary. Some of the most competently engineered and slickly sophisticated automotive products on the market live in the economy segment, where hot hatches and spirited sporty two-doors mate great fun and affordable utility. By some reckoning, these are the best auto­motive buys in the world.We jumped into the middle of this live­ly and competitive market to explore the choices available to the enthusiast who needs reasonable transportation but wants an affordable sporty car. Allowing a maximum price per car of $13,000—in­cluding air conditioning and a radio—we brought together every sports-oriented two- and three-door coupe and sedan we could get our hands on. Then we took off on a 900-mile highway/city/back-road jaunt. As expected, that drive taught us a lot about the eleven contestants that met our criteria.Our fleet embodied a number of design and development philosophies, hinted at a wide range of engineering budgets, and represented four nations of origin. We were surprised by some of the cars, impressed by a few, and delighted by a couple. In the end, there emerged a grand total of four cars that we agreed we could enjoy as primary transportation. And a grand total of one earned our pick as the finest under-$13,000 sportster you can buy today. Herewith, in alphabetical order, the eleven cars that paraded out of the park­ing lot of our Ann Arbor headquarters: the Chevrolet Beretta GT, the Chevrolet Cavalier Z24, the Dodge Colt GT, the Geo Storm GSi, the Honda Civic Si, the Honda CRX Si, the Plymouth Sundance RS, the Pontiac LeMans GSE, the Ponti­ac Sunbird GT, the Suzuki Swift GT, and the Volkswagen Wolfsburg Edition GTI. (The all-new Ford Escort GT was not yet available.)Our plan was to head south and east, to the tightly furrowed Ohio foothills near the West Virginia border, which toss two-lane blacktop into marvelously three-dimensional driving venues. All told, our route was usefully varied, com­prising the freeway runs down and back, hard driving on the serpentine roads in southeast Ohio, and a final session of local around-town tiddling and general crystallization of opinion.Almost immediately, the test fleet be­gan to form itself into a couple of clus­ters, based on road manners and general technological approach.Almost immediately, the test fleet be­gan to form itself into a couple of clus­ters, based on road manners and general technological approach. One was Main­stream Domestic, anchored by the home­grown GM products from Chevrolet and Pontiac. Hustled through Ohio’s hills, the Beretta GT, the Cavalier Z24, and the Sunbird GT were able to deliver serious acceleration and grip—thanks to their strong engines and big tires. But they didn’t feel very satisfying in the process, seeming dated at best, crude at worst, de­pending on how hard they were pushed and how nasty the road conditions. The Plymouth Sundance RS was a fringe member of this group, delivering similar acceleration but with better composure. The other major grouping was Main­stream Japanese, where the central play­ers were the Mitsubishi-built Dodge Colt GT and the two Hondas. As the trip pro­gressed, we continued to be impressed by the remarkable finesse, refinement, and smoothness built into these pains­takingly engineered machines. For years, the Honda Civic Si has been the stan­dard-bearer for low-priced refinement (as has the CRX, which is basically just a flashier, two-seat Civic). But the Colt GT proved refined, too, and had amenities such as power-assisted steering.Just off center in this subcategory was the racy, slightly raucous Storm GSi that Isuzu builds for sale through Chevy’s Geo dealers. And out on a far edge was Suzuki’s new Swift GT, which makes some comfort compromises in order to be truly tiny. That left two players that weren’t real­ly similar enough to form a cluster. Both, however, claim a European lineage, which distinguished them from the rest of the fleet: the LeMans GSE is an Opel design that arrives in Pontiac showrooms by way of Korea’s Daewoo assembly lines, and the Volkswagen GTI was the originator of the hot-hatch concept and is still an autobahn terror in Germany. Running south on U.S. 23 and then east on Interstate 70, a pattern emerged that would come into sharper focus as our drive continued. Here, all the cars did just fine, thanks. Each of them—big and small, domestic and imported­—was comfortable enough and capable enough to feel acceptable (even likable) during freeway-cruise duty. But when humming along straight and level, at modest speeds, on smooth surfaces, they all should be good. That’s the least taxing operating mode and the easiest part of engineering an automobile. No matter what, a car must be good on the highway. And these eleven cars are. The GTI has the most civilized ride of the group and the Sunbird the least. Yet each treats its occupants well at 70 mph on the long concrete slab. Even the Suzuki, with its dinky wheelbase, rides well enough—as long as the freeway’s surface quality holds up. The relatively massive Beretta puts its bulk to use in smothering minor road imperfections, but it has a short­coming: ill-shaped seats that let it down in the hour-after-hour ratings. On the other hand, the Volkswagen, both Hondas, the LeMans, and the Colt earned extra credit for the support and comfort of their seating. Sitting behind the wheel for several hundred freeway miles provides a fine opportunity to examine the interior treatment of an automobile.Noise affects long-range habitability, whether it comes from the powertrain, the chassis, the wind, or all three—as it does in the little Suzuki. Engine racket is disappointingly high in the LeMans, and the Storm also emits more than the aver­age amount of buzz from up front. The V-6s in the Chevrolets, however, are no­tably smooth and quiet at cruise. Sitting behind the wheel for several hundred freeway miles provides a fine opportunity to examine the interior treatment of an automobile. The Colt and the two Hondas clearly win this der­by, and with such excellent examples of clean styling and intelligent function sitting right there, we wonder why other carmakers miss the mark. Sadly, it ap­pears our own home team is simply building to the wrong standard. The Sunbird is the most serious offender, with an instrument panel that assaults the eyes with garish forms, neon colors, and oversized switchgear. The Beretta man­ages to look both overstyled and too plain inside, and all the domestics posi­tion the driver deep in the car behind a high cowl. It’s a bit like sitting in a hole. In stunning contrast, the Civic’s low cowl, low beltline, and generous win­dows make the car feel light and lean and open. And from the driver’s seat, the thing looks racy, sporting a short, fall­away hood and sweeping lines (accentu­ated in the CRX by the roof tapering down behind your head to an imperti­nent little ducktail). And the instrument panels in the two Hondas (and to almost the same extent, in the Colt) look clean and businesslike, with legible gauges and logically arrayed buttons, switches, and indicators. These Japanese cockpits work, and there’s no reason for other makers not to copy them. Other highs and lows in the depart­ment of the interior: The GTI’s Teutonic driver’s compartment looks sharp and works well, and the car’s upright, boxy shape provides plenty of rear-seat room; the Swift’s instrument panel has been styled rather than designed, and it incorporates a few too many shapes and textures; the Le­Mans doesn’t feel at all rich inside, and some of the switches are so well integrat­ed into the black-plastic dash you can’t find them; and the Sundance has used re­straint and better material quality to modernize its cabin within the existing architecture. We left the Interstate at New Concord, Ohio (which claims astronaut and sena­tor John Glenn, Jr., as a native son), and set up a base of operations for our backroads research at Coshocton’s Roscoe Village Inn. What followed was an inten­sive investigation of dynamic behavior on thrilling stretches of state routes 83, 60, 26, and 800—and the stark discovery that some of these cars were developed for such serious driving duty, and others clearly were not. The critical test took place on a partic­ular type of curve found all through rural Morgan and Washington counties. Pic­ture narrow two-lane blacktop with a faded center stripe and the shoulders un­paved. It follows tightly rolling terrain in a way that often has it cresting a brow while bending sharply, invisibly, one way or the other. The surface is steeply crowned and heavily patched. All eleven of our affordable sportsters drive their front wheels, which typically makes a car benign—if not always live­ly—in hard cornering, thanks to protective understeer. Yet there was a world of difference in how these various cars managed The Test. The combination of cor­nering load and surface roughness was tough enough; faced with a sudden unweighting of the tires at the top of each blind crest, and maybe a little driving torque from the engine, a couple of these cars become inconsolable. Unfortunately, again, a “Made in America” badge became a warning flag. The Beretta was a handful (not helped by its sheer size), and both the Cavalier and the Sunbird turned wild and woolly; they’d shake, skitter, and lunge spasmod­ically as the suspension and steering tried to find which way was up. All three suf­fered pronounced torque steer—espe­cially the Pontiac, whose heading was easily upset by the radical power delivery of its strongest-of-the-field turbocharged engine. Either General Motors doesn’t consider this kind of driving relevant, or it does too much development work on the smooth, flat surface of its Milford, Michigan, proving grounds.Our impressions settled in during the freeway drone back to Ann Arbor. And during the city-loop testing that followed, we probed and prodded for final details.The Plymouth Sundance RS could also feel untidy over these whoops, but it was generally more composed, and it did a better job of getting its prodigious tur­bo power to the road. Yet the pace setters in the hills were clearly the foreigners, with the composed and beautifully damped GTI shining brightest. The Hondas and the Colt grouped tightly just a whisker back of the VW, all feeling steady and well-mannered despite terri­fying combinations of cornering speed, surface roughness, and unweighting. In turns tight enough to pull road speeds way down, the manual steering of the Civic and the CRX became heavy, while the excellent power-assisted systems in both the Colt and the GTI remained easy and quick. The Geo Storm, also with power steering, felt pleasingly delicate and light to the touch, even if its chassis poise fell fractionally short of the stan­dard set by the leaders.Both the Pontiac LeMans and the Suzuki Swift turned in mixed perfor­mances in southeast Ohio. The LeMans’s German-designed chassis afforded a re­assuring degree of stability and control (though the body rolled a lot in bends), but the ragged-sounding engine detracted from the fun of whipping the car through the twisties. And though the en­thusiastic little Swift squirted around pretty well under the urging of its dimin­utive 1299cc engine, its abbreviated wheelbase gave it a tendency to step out in back—and even threaten to swap ends, if the driver hurtled up to the limit of tire grip and then suddenly chopped the throttle. Our impressions settled in during the freeway drone back to Ann Arbor (by way of the spectacular U.S. Air Force Mu­seum at Wright-Patterson Field in Day­ton). And during the city-loop testing that followed, we probed and prodded for final details: the Sunbird’s engine gives it tremendous on-boost lunge, the Swift’s back seat is nearly inaccessible, the Colt’s driving position is perfect, the LeMans has good seats, the Cavalier’s engine sounds neat, humans can’t sit in the Storm’s back seat, the Beretta has lots of powertrain windup as you get on and off the throttle, the Civic seems huge in­side for its size, the Sundance’s turn-sig­nal/wiper/headlight-beam control stalk feels absolutely Japanese in its crispness and logic, the CRX maneuvers in traffic like Marcus Allen, and the GTI has the most grippable steering wheel in creation. Then the score sheets trickled in, with the all-important Overall Rating num­bers expressing each tester’s sense of the relative merits of these eleven sporting automobiles. Certain names, those of the cars that had floated to the top as we searched for good moves and good feel, stayed at the top. Others languished at the bottom. After living with the cars and examining them the way we did, the results held no surprises. The four most sophisticated and re­fined automobiles of this group finished in a tight group at the top, the Dodge Colt GT taking the win by a slim margin over the Volkswagen GTI (91 points to 90, out of a possible 100). Next came the Honda Civic Si (89 points) and the CRX Si (87 points). Virtually every one of our testers deemed the top four finishers suf­ficiently capable, accommodating, and entertaining to serve as sole transportation for any right-thinking enthusiast. The Colt took top honors by essentially matching the Civic on the functional, er­gonomic, and subjective fronts and then pressing its value advantage (more com­fort and convenience features for less money). The GTI earned its fine finish­ing spot by having the best ride and han­dling, making it the most fun to drive when the road turns playful. A respectable distance back of the lead quartet, the rest of the field spread itself out. In fifth place (79 points) was the Geo Storm GSi, an entertaining, space-shippy coupe with only a few rough edges. Then in sixth, dead center in the pack, came the first of the domestically built cars, the Plymouth Sundance RS (73 points). “Much better than I expected” was the gist of most comments on Chrysler’s coupe. Suzuki’s quirky little Swift GT (72 points) poked into seventh place, its unique dimensions and rock-bottom price ($10,324 as tested) not quite managing to offset its bare-bones feel. Finally, the remaining four automo­biles grouped themselves at the bottom, scored down for falling out of touch with the level of refinement necessary to be considered a legitimate enthusiast’s car today: Chevrolet’s Cavalier Z24 (68 points), followed by a ninth-place tie be­tween the Chevrolet Beretta GT and the Pontiac LeMans GSE (65 points), and the Pontiac Sunbird GT (64 points) bringing up the rear. 11th Place: Pontiac Sunbird GTWhat does it mean when the clear, hit-it-out-of-the-­park acceleration king finishes an embarrassing last in the overall scoring? For one thing, it means that we insist that cars be enjoyable to drive, no matter how quick they are. For another, it means that sheer power and fat tires are poor substitutes for balance, finesse, accuracy, and predictability.Pontiac’s 165-hp Sunbird GT is the only car here that breaks into the sevens in the 0-to-60-mph sprint and into the fifteens in the quarter-mile. It also ties the Geo Storm GSi for the roadholding crown, churning out 0.82 g on the skidpad. So why don’t we love it?HIGHS: Boosted performance.LOWS: Poor chassis manners, boy-racer styling.VERDICT: A lusty, garish old sporty car that likes straight, smooth roads.Because the wheel feels numb, torque steer accompa­nies almost every application of power, and any patched or ripply stretch of pavement completely upsets the chas­sis. Hook through a turn where the road falls away at the apex and the Sunbird shakes its head, spins its inside front tire, and takes several swings to decide what direc­tion it’s going to head. Driving this car fast is work.In addition, the Sunbird suffers from pogoing ride mo­tions, poor low-rpm throttle response, and a generally disappointing interior. At least the car’s appearance is in step with its performance: The overdone plastic add-ons are anything but subtle, and the busy instrument panel implies that you need something to distract you from the car’s road manners.The J-car is an old platform now, and the more mod­em competitors in this group never let you forget that.1990 Pontiac Sunbird GT165-hp turbocharged inline-4, 5-speed manual, 2728 lbBase/as-tested price: $12,149/$12,889C/D TEST RESULTS60 mph: 7.7 sec1/4 mile: 15.9 sec @ 87 mph100 mph: 23.8 secBraking, 70­–0 mph: 199 ftRoadholding, 300-ft-dia skidpad: 0.82 gC/D observed fuel economy: 25 mpg9th Place (tie): Pontiac LeMansA lot of us wanted badly to like the Le Mans, but it re­buffed our advances time and again. The concept makes sense: design and develop the pieces in Germany, where people know about high-speed handling, then go build them in South Korea, where people know about cheap manufacture. Unfortunately, the cheapness makes a stronger impression than the handling, leaving us with the sense that another good idea has been gut-shot by the cost accountants.HIGHS: Good seats, fine chassis, utility.LOWS: Engine racket, perceived lack of quality.VERDICT: A multicultural experience that has lost much in translation from the bahn-burner original.Tinny-feeling doors with cheap-looking trim panels make for a poor first impression, and the plastic dash doesn’t improve anything. Actually, once underway the LeMans does some things well: The chassis is benign, compliant, and well-damped in hard cornering, the steer­ing is smooth and accurate, and the seats hold their occu­pants comfortably and securely. But a driver just can’t work up much enthusiasm for spirited running. The 96-hp Australian-built engine is loud, rough, slow to rev, and generally happy only at low rpm (unlike the German twin-cam unit that Opel puts in its version). And the vague shift linkage doesn’t welcome your hand.True, the unique humpback styling—which some staffers like—does provide lots of headroom and a fairly large cargo hold. And the $11,551 price of the Le Mans, the second-lowest in the test, makes it worth considering as cheap transportation. But it shouldn’t feel cheap­ especially when other cars, ones only slightly more cost­ly, manage to feel vastly richer.1990 Pontiac LeMans GSE96-hp inline-4, 5-speed manual, 2364 lbBase/as-tested price: $10,764/$11,551C/D TEST RESULTS60 mph: 10.8 sec1/4 mile: 17.8 sec @ 76 mph100 mph: 60.6 secBraking, 70­–0 mph: 202 ftRoadholding, 300-ft-dia skidpad: 0.76 gC/D observed fuel economy: 28 mpg9th Place (tie): Chevrolet Beretta GTAlmost everyone likes the way Chevy’s lean and clean Beretta looks; unfortunately, it doesn’t drive very lean or clean unless you’re just tooling down the highway. We have no complaints about the V-6 engine, stroked from 2.8 liters to 3.1 for 1990 and developing 135 hp. And as the biggest car in this test (2815 pounds and a 103.4-inch wheelbase), the Beretta not surprisingly takes up more road than some of the more nimble runners. But the subjective sensations the car gives can’t all be attributed to its size. The suspension goes sloppy on nasty roads, ready torque steer kicks in on rough surfaces, and throttle movements can create lots of cradle rock as the powertrain shifts on its flexible mountings. Despite good test-track numbers, the Beretta is a low-excitement, low­-stress, low-aspirations car.HIGHS: Shapely sheetmetal, V-6 engine, good free­way ride.LOWS: Poor seats and interior layout, disappoint­ing back-road handling.VERDICT: A biggish sportster that doesn’t take to being pressed.Our $12,925 GT model also drew criticism for seats that don’t fit and an interior layout that doesn’t quite work. The styling inside seems forced, and simple logic does not always take your hand to the switch you want.And yet, even if the Beretta doesn’t compete with much success in this crowd, it must get credit for making the cut at all. This is a big car and a pretty roomy car, and it still comes in under the $13,000 limit. For many peo­ple, that—and the undeniably attractive exterior shape­—will offset the car’s deficient interior and lack of rough­-road poise.1990 Chevrolet Beretta GT135-hp V-6, 5-speed manual, 2815 lbBase/as-tested price: $12,500/$12,925C/D TEST RESULTS60 mph: 8.5 sec1/4 mile: 16.3 sec @ 83 mph100 mph: 27.5 secBraking, 70­–0 mph: 200 ftRoadholding, 300-ft-dia skidpad: 0.80 gC/D observed fuel economy: 21 mpg8th Place: Chevrolet Cavalier Z24The J-cars felt springy and unsteady when they were introduced in 1981, and though they have been dramati­cally upgraded since then, our expectations have in­creased as well. Viewed critically as a performance car, the Z24 seems well past its prime—if it ever really had one. And why not? No other car in this test (except the Sunbird—the Cavalier’s sister car) showed up on a plat­form that is in its ninth year of production.Still, in what seems to be the style of cars developed on the billiard-table pavement of the Milford proving grounds, the Cavalier Z24 plants its big tires resolutely as long as you don’t fling it around too quickly on challeng­ing roads. Certainly, the engine does its part. The new 3.1-liter V-6 is tuned to deliver a bit more power (140 hp) than it does in the Beretta, and it moves the 2738-pound Z24 with authority—and with a stirring six-cylinder snarl. Partly because of the smooth power delivery of the en­gine, the Z24 upsets its chassis much less under throttle than does the turbocharged Sunbird.HIGHS: Growling V-6.LOWS: Unrefined chassis, disappointing amount of space for the car’s size.VERDICT: A pleasant enough sporty two-door, but don’t ask too much of it.Compared with its Pontiac sibling, the Z24 is also re­strained aesthetically. The cars share many sheetmetal panels, but the plastic dress-up add-ons on the Cavalier leave it looking clean and handsome by comparison. For $12,830, the Z24 gives you a pleasing automobile for lunging around town (it recorded the second-fastest 0-­to-60-mph time), but you can’t expect too much from such an old warrior.1990 Chevrolet Cavalier Z24140-hp V-6, 5-speed manual, 2738 lbBase/as-tested price: $11,505/$12,830C/D TEST RESULTS60 mph: 8.4 sec1/4 mile: 16.4 sec @ 83 mph100 mph: 26.6 secBraking, 70­–0 mph: 195 ftRoadholding, 300-ft-dia skidpad: 0.79 gC/D observed fuel economy: 22 mpg7th Place: Suzuki Swift GTHere’s a curious little runner, a zippy motorized skate­board, sort of a refugee from the Japanese microcar wars. We tried to take it seriously, but the Swift’s sheer small­ness made it seem like something less than a real automobile.HIGHS: Tiny package, go-kart feel.LOWS: Noise, vibration, harshness.VERDICT: A nimble little scooter, best used close to home.Of course, at just $10,324 fully equipped, the Swift doesn’t charge you like a real automobile does. And there’s no denying that the car’s diminutive scale has ap­peal. Around town, it nips through traffic and hooks around street comers with great élan. It slips into tiny parking spaces. It even cruises acceptably—unless the road surface is bad. Expansion strips on concrete free­ways are the worst. The short-wheelbase Suzuki hobby­horses over these rhythmic disturbances and sets your guts a-bouncing.The little sixteen-valve, 1.3-liter engine makes an even 100 hp and responds to a right foot as eagerly and imme­diately as some other Suzuki fours respond to a right wrist. And because the car weighs only 1852 pounds (the only car in this group under a ton), the powerplant can generate respectable acceleration. But it makes a racket doing so.Inside, there is evidence of underdevelopment. The dash looks busier and more cluttered than necessary, and only a contortionist can make it into the back seat (though regular people can actually sit back there). The Suzuki makes some sense as an urban guerrilla; it just doesn’t seem grown up yet.1990 Suzuki Swift GT100-hp inline-4, 5-speed manual, 1852 lbBase/as-tested price: $9399/$10,324C/D TEST RESULTS60 mph: 8.7 sec1/4 mile: 16.6 sec @ 83 mph100 mph: 36.3 secBraking, 70­–0 mph: 192 ftRoadholding, 300-ft-dia skidpad: 0.76 gC/D observed fuel economy: 32 mpg6th Place: Plymouth Sundance RSThis may seem like a backhanded compliment, but everyone was surprised by how well the Sundance worked—and how much it has been improved. The basic recipe is that of a modest-aspiration Detroit sedan: high cowl and beltline, strong but coarse powerplant, a chassis intended to be cheap to build, and buyer appeal rooted more in perceived durability than graceful road moves. But within the obvious limitations of these origins, Chrysler engineers have coaxed and cajoled the Sundance down a pathway toward refinement and have given the car respectable capabilities.With 150 turbocharged horses available to propel its 2765 pounds, the Sundance RS works up speed prompt­ly. And it sails down the Interstate, riding well and track­ing true. Even its back-road manner is fair, with decent grip and good maneuverability.HIGHS: Power, revised interior.LOWS: Quick steering, lack of emotional appeal.VERDICT: An unpromising design that has been pushed and shoved toward reasonable levels of refine­ment and performance.Unfortunately, the Sundance doesn’t have a sporting line on its body. Without the purposeful wheels and tires to provide some flair, it would look every bit the anony­mous econobox.At least the interior is now a much better place to work—most of the plastic chrome, gaudy materials, and clumsy switches have been axed. In fact, the Sundance’s steering wheel, with a soft-grip surface and an airbag housed in the hub, is itself a completely modern piece. The rest of the car may not measure up yet, but at least it’s on the way.1990 Plymouth Sundance RS150-hp turbocharged inline-4, 5-speed manual, 2765 lbBase/as-tested price: $12,529/$12,969C/D TEST RESULTS60 mph: 8.5 sec1/4 mile: 16.4 sec @ 83 mph100 mph: 26.2 secBraking, 70­–0 mph: 205 ftRoadholding, 300-ft-dia skidpad: 0.77 gC/D observed fuel economy: 23 mpg5th Place: Geo Storm GSiThe high-sport model in Chevrolet’s import lineup, the Isuzu-built Storm makes strong impressions and po­larizes opinion. The shapes and forms, both inside and out, are original and strong, with a theme that people variously characterize as aircraftlike, space-capsulish, modernoidal, or just too much. Especially with the added rear spoiler and rocker-sill extensions that come with the GSi package, the car’s style looks a little too tacked on. And the window treatment in the rear quarter area seems unnecessarily fussy. But the dead-on views both front and rear show pretty good “faces,” and, in any case, no one can accuse the Storm of being inconspicuous.HIGHS: Rev-forever engine, radical styling.LOWS: Noisy engine, radical styling.VERDICT: A zippy-handling sports runabout from the planet Zarkon.Dynamically, the 130-hp coupe acquits itself pretty well. Among the eleven cars in this test, it ties for third in 0-to-60-mph acceleration and in top speed, and it ties for first in roadholding (most drivers enjoyed its secure twirling-road manners). Power steering and low-effort shifting and pedal action give the Storm a light, nimble feel. The driving position and the comfortable seats also earned high praise.Less popular was the amount of noise the engine makes when working hard. And anyone who actually ex­pects to climb into the Storm’s back seat should note how the roof section thickens to accommodate the hatch hinges—right where a rear-seat passenger would like to put their head.We look forward to Isuzu’s own version, the new Im­pulse, with four-wheel drive and Lotus Elan-spec power.1990 Geo Storm GSi130-hp inline-4, 5-speed manual, 2438 lbBase/as-tested price: $11,650/$12,825C/D TEST RESULTS60 mph: 8.5 sec1/4 mile: 16.6 sec @ 82 mph100 mph: 29.9 secBraking, 70­–0 mph: 193 ftRoadholding, 300-ft-dia skidpad: 0.82 gC/D observed fuel economy: 27 mpg4th Place: Honda CRX SiMost everything that can be said about the Civic—it’s refined, it’s sophisticated, it’s well engineered, it’s fun to drive—also applies to the CRX Si. The big difference: On the CRX, a 7.8-inch chunk has been lifted out of the wheelbase, with the cockpit tightened up behind the two seats that remain.The change is more than just dimensional. It creates an entirely different kind of automobile, for better or for worse—one with a completely different mission profile. If the Civic Si is one of the most practical members of our group, the CRX Si most assuredly defines the dedicated-­sportster end of the spectrum. On the other hand, the CRX is extremely economical, and it does have excellent luggage space. And at less than $13,000 ($12,846, to be precise), it unquestionably qualified for inclusion in our sportster review.HIGHS: A Civic cloaked in sexy running togs.LOWS: Passenger space your life has to fit.VERDICT: Tremendous sporting appeal for those whose needs match the limited accommodations.In certain conditions, the longer-wheelbase Civic may have a marginal edge in stability over its sawed-off sibling, but overall the CRX puts its closer-coupled pro­portions to good use. Nimble, lively, and responsive, it is an expert at darting in and out of traffic or hooking through fast sweeping bends. And it’s a surprisingly proficient all­-day freeway cruiser. The wisdom of its formula is evident in its performance: The Honda CRX Si has the highest top speed and ties with the Swift for the highest observed fuel economy of the group.You just have to decide if everything—or, actually, ev­eryone—you need to transport will fit inside.1990 Honda CRX Si108-hp inline-4, 5-speed manual, 2229 lbBase/as-tested price: $11,130/$12,846C/D TEST RESULTS60 mph: 9.3 sec1/4 mile: 16.9 sec @ 81 mph100 mph: 30.9 secBraking, 70­–0 mph: 177 ftRoadholding, 300-ft-dia skidpad: 0.79 gC/D observed fuel economy: 32 mpg3rd Place: Honda Civic SiSome of us in the auto-critic business have commented on the matter of cars as personal statements with a re­mark such as, “Hey, if it was only about transportation, we’d all be driving Honda Civics.” Which is to say, the Civic is, in most critical ways, the archetype for sensible, reasonable personal transport. It is economical and reli­able and roomy, sure, but so are other cheap cars. Unlike them, however, the basic Honda bespeaks engineering competence. And that feels good. You find it in the smooth, free-revving character of the 108-hp engine, the perfect action of even the most minor switch, the hand­somely drawn lines, and the exemplary build quality.HIGHS: Inspired design, impeccable engineering, re­markable refinement.LOWS: Heavy low-speed steering.VERDICT: Perfectly conceived for its task, with so­phistication that shames cars at every price level.But Honda is a company that made its name in motor­cycles, remember, so it understands the concept of driv­ing fun. And that may be the real magic of the Civic. For all its solid virtues, it’s a kick to drive. That makes our test Si one of the best $11,966 purchases anyone—en­thusiast or not—could contemplate.In this test’s final tallying, the Civic was just edged out by the Colt GT’s perceived value (light-touch power steering and other amenities for a little less money) and by the GTI’s unbeatable combination of back-road prow­ess and peerless utility. Still, the Civic’s trip log bursts with praise for its direct, positive feel and the quality evi­dent in every aspect of its execution.If your rich uncle insists you show some savvy to earn your inheritance, buy a Civic Si. You’ll all be happy.1990 Honda Civic Si108-hp inline-4, 5-speed manual, 2210 lbBase/as-tested price: $10,245/$11,966C/D TEST RESULTS60 mph: 8.5 sec1/4 mile: 16.5 sec @ 81 mph100 mph: 30.5 secBraking, 70­–0 mph: 183 ftRoadholding, 300-ft-dia skidpad: 0.78 gC/D observed fuel economy: 28 mpg2nd Place: Volkswagen GTIVolkswagen has revamped its model line to include two GTis. One sports an eight-valve engine, simple trim, and a base price under $10,000; the other (coming soon) will have its sixteen-valve engine stretched from 1.8 to 2.0 liters and will wear everything from fender flares to Recaro seats. We’re talking about the 105-hp eight-­valver here, designated the Wolfsburg Edition, which rang up a total of $12,040 including the sunroof, power steering, and air-conditioning options.The GTI is not particularly outstanding in any individ­ual performance category, but we all raved about it. Why? Because its chassis is so expertly sorted for fast running and its cockpit so well set up for the business of driving that you find yourself being caught up in the fun.HIGHS: German ride quality and handling, huge interior.LOWS: Boxy styling, balky shifter.VERDICT: A true driver’s car—one that just hap­pens to be affordable and practical.Moreover, the GTI is extremely practical. It has the roomiest rear seat in the group. And despite its taut road manners, the GTI enjoys the best ride of the bunch.In many ways, the GTI is a dated commodity. Some drivers are bothered by the too-vertical windshield and the unfashionably high cowl. But those concerns disap­pear after the first fast turns, when the GTI demonstrates the qualities that set it apart from the field. Even droning down the Interstate, the damping and the chassis isola­tion of the VW—communicative but still comfortable­—tell you the autobahn influence is alive and well.”Fahrvergnügen” may be a clumsy ad line, but it’s a thor­oughly viable concept.1990 Volkswagen GTI105-hp inline-4, 5-speed manual, 2377 lbBase/as-tested price: $9995/$12,040C/D TEST RESULTS60 mph: 10.2 sec1/4 mile: 17.5 sec @ 78 mph100 mph: 43.0 secBraking, 70­–0 mph: 184 ftRoadholding, 300-ft-dia skidpad: 0.78 gC/D observed fuel economy: 29 mpg1st Place: Dodge Colt GTHIGHS: Comfort, refinement, utility, enthusiasm for the road.LOWS: Overstyled body, maybe.VERDICT: Amazing smoothness and richness for the money, a delight to drive.Here is our winner, and we can’t praise it highly enough. In almost any category you can name—build quality, handling, comfort, value—the Mitsubishi-made Colt GT scores at or near the top of this heap. Although the Colt trails much of the group in straight-line perfor­mance, its engine revs willingly and seamlessly, and its shifter stirs smoothly. And the Colt’s decisively superior slalom prowess, excellent braking, and respectable skidpad grip translate into the sort of responsive, fluid handling that serious drivers appreciate. Try it once through a series of challenging corners and you’ll be convinced.For $12,150, the Colt GT delivers first-order driving pleasure. And it is so clean, modern, and tidy in its design and execution that we just like being near it. Its back­road poise is impressive, its 123-hp engine responsive, its controls light to the touch yet positive, its interior roomy and useful, its list of amenities pleasingly long. More than any car in this review, the Colt looks and feels richer than its price. And how many products can you say that about today?The body configuration mirrors the Civic’s mini­-bread-van shape and provides similarly generous space inside. The Colt’s sheetmetal may lack the Honda’s crisp­ness and grace, but even then the Dodge has something special to offer: Our test car sported the brightest, most brilliant yellow paint you’ve ever seen.1990 Dodge Colt GT123-hp inline-4, 5-speed manual, 2556 lbBase/as-tested price: $9121/$12,150C/D TEST RESULTS60 mph: 10.1 sec1/4 mile: 17.4 sec @ 79 mph100 mph: 36.5 secBraking, 70­–0 mph: 188 ftRoadholding, 300-ft-dia skidpad: 0.78 gC/D observed fuel economy: 28 mpg More

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    1980 Volkswagen Rabbit Convertible Tested: A Happy Little Car

    From the January 1980 issue of Car and Driver.Hi there, this is us in our automotive zoot suit. The one with the whitewall spats and the padded shoulders. For our formal informal photography ses­sion, we’ve slipped into our silver threads, but the outfit we’ve spent most of our time in has red pants and an off­white jacket. If you’re not right off fond of its cut, you’ll find it grows on you. Maybe it will even change your person­ality. It will certainly change what every­one else thinks of you. Your Volkswag­en dealer is offering you the chance to become instantly in. And, somewhat less obviously, very clever.These German cars are almost proving an embarrassment to us. They’re getting too good. When we say so, it gets us a mountain of mail complaining we’ve sold out our objectivity and our credibility, and in turn probably gained grotesquely swollen bank accounts. No such luck. But there’s no way around it, the Rabbit convertible will once again bring the postlady to her knees with hate mail. She will come to loathe this car for the burden it will bring her, but she will be all alone. Volkswagen has everyone else in the bag and loving it. It’s happened before. Last time we tested a VW convertible, it was the time-honored and dearly be­loved Beetle version. More peculiar­-looking cars existed only in the minds of drug-addicted individuals and in deep­est France. If there was a more universal love in the world of automobiles, we don’t know of it. Leering perversity was loose in the world in the form of the Beetle convertible. David E. Davis, Jr., said it was a compelling argument that automotive progress isn’t everything. Patrick Bedard admitted he was in­trigued by a car shaped like molded Jell-O when everything else looked like a block of cheese. Don Sherman called it the fastest four-place lawn chair he knew of. Volkswagen sold more than a quarter of a million of its lawn chairs, and somewhere people are sitting in them today, taking the sun. When the Beetle convertible disappeared recently, the demand clamored on. More Classic VolkswagensVolkswagen boxed up the demand and wheeled it off to the Karmann coachworks along with a bundle of Rab­bit mechanicals. Karmann, of course, was the birthplace of the sleek-lined Ghia of yore and the aforementioned topless Beetle. With such VW experi­ence at hand, it didn’t take VW long to pull an open-air Rabbit from Karmann’s magic hat, and the car is a dandy me­chanical entity. It makes you want to play ticker-tape parade, a national hero waving, standing behind you with fore­arm on roll bar, surrounded by the Thirties bulges of the folded top, get­ting the ride of his life in one of the neatest of all little cars. Like the Beetle, the Rabbit convert­ible disregards fashion to start one of its own. It’s cute with the top up, and what might be described as . . . interesting with the top down. There’s not much visual question that the convertible was an existing car whose top was carved off. The rear fenders are kicked up a lit­tle now, and perched atop them is the mechanism for the top. When the top’s down, it’s down only in the sense of be­ing collapsed, because it still sticks way up, a huge reading pillow with armrests, and a blocker of rear vision. Beneath the folded top is a handy, if shrouded, trunklet that opens to the rear. The back seat folds forward for greater car­rying capacity. The remainder of the body is unmistakably Rabbit, its lines otherwise undiluted except for the up­right roll bar that provides rollover pro­tection and strengthens the unit-body structure. The bar is padded and trimmed in black, matching the dash and add-on door trim. The top fits exceptionally well. The outside will never creep in uninvited. Inner and outer layers sandwich smooth, substantial padding that pro­vides weather and sound insulation. The inside of the top is finished like that of a snug sedan, and the back window is real live glass embedded with real live defogging wires. Hot stuff! The two roof-mounted release handles at the sides of the windshield are the only hardware visible. Aaron Kiley|Car and DriverNow that’s just terrific, having an open-air Rabbit and all, but it gets bet­ter. We expect Rabbits to be congenital­ly nice, but the convertible transcends niceness. Extra sound deadening seems to have been poured wholesale into the engine compartment, and the first crank of the engine hints of the refinement to come. Everything about the physical behavior of the car says effortless. It is strong, blithely willing, and very eco­nomical. It will return 25 mpg in city driving and quietly requests 90-mph cruising. With less than 500 miles on its optimistic odometer, our convertible ran 0 to 60 mph in 12.8 seconds; more break-in miles will probably get the job done quicker. VW’s smooth five-speed overdrive aids and abets the engine with well-staged gearing and feather-light linkage so slick that it defies the rest of the industry. Hooked to perhaps the smoothest and quietest four in memory, it sets a lofty standard. We are told our car came straight off the boat into dealer and press intros, where we laid claim to it. There was no pre-delivery prep other than a wash job. Even so, the only physical faults we could find were of the easy-fix variety: a nonfunctioning fuel-injection cold-start connection (which could be handily overcome even in snowy weather by a solid tromp on the gas pedal); a slight rattle in the exhaust caused by a loose hanger; an optional sport steering wheel rotated one notch too far to the right; and a missing inside rearview mirror. With a pre-delivery service un­der the car’s belt, we’d have found nothing physical to complain about ex­cept a brake-locking problem at the right rear, which added at least 20 feet to our last sedan Rabbit’s 203-foot 70-to-0-mph stopping distance. Short of that point of lockup, the brakes have been improved by virtue of better feel and more reassuring pedal action than VWs have ever had. A quick service of the rear brakes should eliminate our problem, and it’s not likely to show up in other cars.The Rabbit convertible’s over-the-­road controls function with such well-­oiled directness and consistency, you’d swear you have $20,000 worth of ma­chinery at your beck and call. The con­vertible’s inner masses and individual pieces are surpassingly well coordinated, furnishing the driver with a smooth and stable platform, free of unnecessary harshness, from which to direct the flank-speed passage of a most amusing world. The pop-top’s center of gravity feels considerably lower than an every­day Rabbit’s. Less body roll, dive, and squat interfere with the sensations of rapid progress through the countryside. The suspension and steering are ideally compromised, resulting in outstanding and soft-spoken control. Slight under­steer stabilizes the car, which can turn into corners with surprising ferocity if you suggest it. The car seems capable of more than you could ever reasonably ask, and certainly more delightful than almost any traditional roadster you might put it against. The world will soon be awash with a lemming-run of roadster owners bending their dealers’ ears in search of handling fixes to rectify the dirt done them by Rabbit convertibles. It could happen on any kind of road that changes direction often. Smooth, coarse, or downright cratered, it makes little difference to the Rabbit convert­ible. The Continental TS771s are flex­ible enough to complement the bump­-adaptive front-wheel-drive layout of the Rabbit, yet they allow you simply to fly into corners, track around, and feed im­peccably out the other side. Transitions are smooth, wheel movements small, and the steering among the very best. Place the car exactly where you want it. The light, microscopically correctable steering draws apexes in with a free­wheeling but irresistible magnetism, to brush flawlessly beneath the inside tires. Those apexes pass by, but the art of their passage lingers along. Aaron Kiley|Car and DriverThe optional sport seats (not shown) are responsible, in large part, for the driver’s ability to make use of all this excellence. They are deeply bucketed and comfortably bolstered, and they sit solidly among the top three or four fac­tory-available seats in the world. Mount­ed high off the floor, the angled thigh cushion shores you up for relaxed con­trol, and for comfort that carries you from an early start to well beyond the twilight zone. The back seat offers its lap even to adults, and even though the rear side windows don’t roll all the way down, they do fend off the stronger gusts of high-speed turbulence that threaten havoc with anything but kinky perms. There is no discounting the value of this happy little car. It betters some pretty pricey competition both in its physical functions and in the results it gives in comfort and satisfaction. And its operating economy is up there with the best. The changes wrought by Kar­mann take the Rabbit convertible way far out of the econobox price range, but Volkswagen hasn’t concerned itself with that. Instead, it’s concentrated on build­ing a dynamite mini funster that does more things well than most product planners could write on a large piece of paper, let alone blend into something that goes down the road with this car’s grace. The Rabbit convertible sparkles with a good humor not one car in a hun­dred has.Arrow pointing downArrow pointing downSpecificationsSpecifications
    1980 Volkswagen Rabbit L convertibleVehicle Type: front-engine, front-wheel-drive, 4-passenger, 2-door convertible
    PRICE
    Base/As Tested: $8895/$9105Options: sport seats, $165; sport steering wheel, $45
    ENGINESOHC inline-4, iron block and aluminum headDisplacement: 97 in3, 1588 cm3Power: 76 hp @ 5500 rpmTorque: 83 lb-ft @ 3200 rpm 
    TRANSMISSION5-speed automatic
    CHASSIS
    Suspension, F/R: struts/trailing armBrakes, F/R: 9.4-in vented disc/7.1-in drumTires: Continental TS771175/70SR-13
    DIMENSIONS
    Wheelbase: 94.4 inLength: 155.3 inWidth: 63.4 inHeight: 55.6 inCurb Weight: 2170 lb
    C/D TEST RESULTS
    60 mph: 12.8 sec1/4-Mile: 18.8 sec @ 71 mph90 mph: 52.8 secBraking, 70–0 mph: 223 ft
    EPA FUEL ECONOMYCombined: 25 mpg 
    C/D TESTING EXPLAINED More

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    Tested: 2023 Range Rover Sport SE P360 Would Rather Chill Than Thrill

    From the April 2022 issue of Car and Driver.Chipotle—or, as my family calls it, “Taco Bell with some book learnin'”—has an ingenious menu. There’s really only one dish, but the fast-food chain presents the basic ingredients in so many ways that a veneer of individuality disguises the homogeneity. The same can be said of Land Rover’s lineup, which stuffs the same fillings into different wrappers. You want a six-cylinder all-wheel-drive SUV? Have a Range Rover Velar, which looks like a smaller Range Rover Sport, which is a slightly smaller Range Rover, which is like a fancier Discovery, which is a more polished Defender. In this analogy, the Discovery Sport is a lifestyle bowl, and the Evoque is a quesadilla off the kids menu.The Range Rover Sport is a staple of the company’s SUV menu. The prior generation enjoyed a nine-year run without aging into dowdiness, which is probably why Rover decided, for the 2023 redesign, to keep it looking pretty much the same. The new Sport’s headlights are squintier, but the overall shape is so similar to the previous model that you’d have to park them alongside each other to figure out what changed. The main giveaway is the new power-operated flush door handles, which contribute to the slick looks and slippery 0.29 coefficient of drag. View PhotosNo matter how shattered the surface, the Range Rover Sport paves the road ahead with lightly toasted marshmallows.Greg Pajo|Car and DriverHIGHS: Looks fast even when it’s parked, amazing ride quality, decent gas mileage.The Sport is slick to drive too, even in the lightly optioned SE trim. At $90,145 as tested, this is about as inexpensive a Range Rover Sport as you can build. The base SE comes with a 355-hp variant of the electrically supercharged and turbocharged 3.0-liter inline-six that appears in various other tunes and configurations elsewhere in the lineup (there’s a 395-hp flavor and a 434-hp plug-in hybrid). And while the straight-six’s output doesn’t exactly impress when BMW and Jeep are wringing 500-plus horsepower out of the same displacement, the engine is unfailingly buttery and refined. Goose the throttle at low rpm, and the supercharger delivers instantaneous boost, ramping up the torque until the turbocharger blows a gale. You hear a brief high-pitched whine at throttle tip-in, but that’s the only clue to the supercharger’s existence.Greg Pajo|Car and Drivermore range rover contentThe Range Rover Sport doesn’t exactly lollygag when you crack open the throttle, but neither does it hustle the way you might expect based on its rakish looks. The Sport hits 60 mph in 5.7 seconds and covers the quarter-mile in 14.3 seconds at 96 mph. Those numbers are decent enough, but the Sport’s 5-to-60-mph time—7.1 seconds—is a better indicator of how it feels in real-world traffic, which is to say like a 5387-pound vehicle with 355 horse-power. In this case, “Sport” implies a diminutive (see Ford Bronco Sport, Mitsubishi Outlander Sport) rather than a sporting intent. At least the Sport SE delivers decent fuel economy, returning 25 mpg in our 75-mph highway test. And it is a comfy place to dispatch some miles. Get the eight-speed automatic settled down in a tall gear and the straight-six snoozing at low rpm, and you could be convinced you’re driving an electric vehicle. It’s that smooth and that quiet. In fact, at 70 mph, you’ll hear a mere 66 decibels of interior din, which is verging on luxury-sedan levels of quietude. Some of the credit there goes to the active noise-cancellation system, which uses microphones in each wheel well to sample the sound boiling up from the road and then nullify it, like you’re riding around in a giant pair of noise-canceling headphones.The standard air springs and adaptive dampers also further the impression of luxurious, untroubled heft, even with the 22-inch clodhoppers fitted to our test car. No matter how shattered the surface, the Range Rover Sport paves the road ahead with lightly toasted marshmallows. Switch to Dynamic mode, and the Pirelli Scorpion Zero All-Season tires can generate 0.81 g of grip on the skidpad, but doing so also introduces head toss and flinty ride motions. As with its powertrain, the Sport SE’s chassis is happiest when you’re not asking much of it. Which, we concede, is how most people use their cars most of the time. Granted, other trims would push the Sport’s numbers closer to the realm of legit performance SUVs. The Stormer Handling package, unique to the $122,975 First Edition P530, brings active anti-roll bars and rear-wheel steering, and we’re sure that model’s BMW-sourced 523-hp V-8 makes for considerably sprightlier acceleration. LOWS: Not actually all that quick, shiny interior parts are a smudgefest, just a few options push the price over $90,000But our test vehicle is almost as close as you can get to a Range Rover Sport at its $84,475 base price. Options included the 22-inch wheels ($1450), a full-size spare tire ($500), and the Cold Climate package ($640), which heats the steering wheel, washer jets, and windshield. The heated steering wheel is available à la carte for $300 in case you find the heated windshield’s embedded filaments distracting, which some of us do. You can, of course, pad out the options list with thousands of dollars in other add-ons, but the Sport comes pretty thoroughly equipped in the first place. Without a buyer checking any options, the SE includes front and rear heated leather seats, a Meridian sound system, a panoramic sunroof, and adaptive cruise control with lane-keeping assist. Whether the generous standard equipment amounts to an interior that befits an $84,000 Range Rover is up for debate. When most surfaces are hard and shiny—glass, black wood veneer, aluminum—you end up with a cabin that shows every microbe of dust and smudgy fingerprint. Other odd decisions: The USB-C port behind the flowing center console sits above a sloped plastic tray, so any phone put there will soon go flying toward one footwell or the other before forcibly unplugging itself. There’s also an inductive charging pad under the touchscreen, but it lacks a lip on the back edge, so you face the same dilemma on a different axis. Punch the throttle, and your phone will be on a spelunking journey in the center console, which is approximately the shape and depth of an elevator shaft since it shares between-the-seats real estate with another storage area hidden beneath the cupholders. And why would you need hidden storage under the cupholder? We’re law-abiding citizens, so we have no idea what you might put under there after, say, a day trip from Ohio to Michigan.VERDICT: A Sport that would rather not play.The Range Rover Sport’s role in the lineup has always been clear: It’s like the full-size Range Rover but more oriented toward performance on pavement. This particular trim, though, stakes its appeal on the relaxed luxury it delivers at its (relatively) affordable price. The Sport is the Range Rover for people who say “Never mind” when informed that the guacamole will be an extra $2.65. Is that really making a difference to your bottom line? Maybe not, but you’ve got to draw the line somewhere.Greg Pajo|Car and DriverCounterpointsModel-handsome design and nattily attired cabins make Range Rovers the preening fashionistas of their peer group. But beauty comes at a price, which, for the Range Rover Sport, is on the level of couture—whereas competitors from Mercedes-Benz, BMW, and even Porsche are more like ready-to-wear. With options, our base-trim test example is over $90K. And to think, the Sport was once the attainable Range Rover. —Joe LorioThe new Range Rover Sport is a symbol of progress for the Land Rover brand, so why continue to include those redundant flip-down armrests? Of all the heritage design features to stick with, these seem the most irrelevant. The cushy center console is already nicely positioned for resting your elbow, and these flimsy, narrow appendages only block easy access to the seatbelts. At the very least, Land Rover should offer buyers an armrest-delete option on the spec sheet. —Drew DorianArrow pointing downArrow pointing downSpecificationsSpecifications
    2023 Land Rover Range Rover Sport SE P360Vehicle Type: front-engine, all-wheel-drive, 5-passenger, 4-door wagon
    PRICE
    Base/As Tested: $84,475/$90,145 Options: 22-inch wheels, $1450; Black contrast roof, $1000; Giola Green paint, $710; Cold Climate package, $640; LED headlights, $600; 22-inch full-size spare, $500; Natural Black veneer trim, $410; Wi-Fi with data plan, $360
    ENGINEsupercharged, turbocharged, and intercooled, DOHC 24-valve inline-6, aluminum block and head, direct fuel injectionDisplacement: 183 in3, 2996 cm3Power: 355 hp @ 6500 rpmTorque: 369 lb-ft @ 1750 rpm
    TRANSMISSION
    8-speed automatic
    CHASSIS
    Suspension, F/R: multilink/multilinkBrakes, F/R: 15.0-in vented disc/14.0-in vented discTires: Pirelli Scorpion Zero All-Season285/45R-22 114Y M+S LR
    DIMENSIONS
    Wheelbase: 118.0 inLength: 194.7 inWidth: 80.6 inHeight: 71.7–74.2 inPassenger Volume, F/R: 55/50 ft3Cargo Volume, Behind F/R: 66/32 ft3Curb Weight: 5387 lb
    C/D TEST RESULTS
    60 mph: 5.7 sec1/4-Mile: 14.3 sec @ 96 mph100 mph: 15.7 sec130 mph: 33.2 secResults above omit 1-ft rollout of 0.3 sec.Rolling Start, 5–60 mph: 7.1 secTop Gear, 30–50 mph: 3.9 secTop Gear, 50–70 mph: 4.5 secTop Speed (mfr’s claim): 140 mphBraking, 70–0 mph: 187 ftRoadholding, 300-ft Skidpad: 0.81 g
    C/D FUEL ECONOMY
    Observed: 16 mpg75-mph Highway Driving: 25 mpg75-mph Highway Range: 590 mi
    EPA FUEL ECONOMY
    Combined/City/Highway: 22/19/26 mpg
    C/D TESTING EXPLAINEDSenior EditorEzra Dyer is a Car and Driver senior editor and columnist. He’s now based in North Carolina but still remembers how to turn right. He owns a 2009 GEM e4 and once drove 206 mph. Those facts are mutually exclusive. More

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    1980s Muscle Car Comparo: Buick Regal Grand National, Chevy Monte Carlo SS, Olds 442

    From the July 1985 issue of Car and Driver.One cannot take life too seriously when one looks at it from inside a Monte Carlo SS, a Buick Regal Grand National, or—to a lesser degree—an Olds 442. These cars are for taking large numbers of friends and great quantities of beer to the beach. Nobody worries about Central America or school prayer when sashaying down the highway in a car that’s the rolling embodiment of everything the Beach Boys sang about in the Sixties.Television and the weekly news maga­zines would have us believe that every young person in America was out on the barricades in the Sixties and early Seven­ties, tossing tear-gas canisters back at the cops and praying the old VW bus could make it over the border to Canada. The truth is that the vast majority of kids never even saw a barricade or got a whiff of tear gas. Hordes of America’s flaming youth drank beer, raised hell, tore around in cars not unlike the three we have here today, and waited to see if they were going to get called up for Vietnam. Nostalgia is what these three vehicles are all about. When you’ve been driving any one of the three for more than about five minutes, you begin to wish that you’d brought along all of your Frankie Valli/Del Shannon/Jan and Dean/Lovin’ Spoonful cassettes—not to mention everything ever produced by Phil Spector or recorded by the aforementioned Beach Boys. With “My Little Runaway” blasting out of the speak­ers, you’re not really concerned with the fact that these cars have been left in the dust by modern automotive technology. You don’t even mind too much when some adolescent in an Omni GLH Turbo does the same thing. We’ve long admired the appearance of the Buick Grand National and the Chevro­let Monte Carlo SS, and we were finally moved to bring GM’s three more-or-less muscle cars together for a test by the rather pleasant weeks we’d spent driving an Olds 442 through the snowdrifts and slop of a nasty Michigan winter. It’s possible—to some degree—to forecast the good, the bad, and the ugly high-speed dynamic characteristics of a car based on its behav­ior at lower speeds on snow and ice, and the 442 behaved admirably when tossed around on the local low-coefficient sur­faces. Thus, when the weather began to clear and spring made an appearance, we lined up all three for a nostalgic romp through what’s left of Muscle Car Land. Aaron Kiley|Car and DriverView Photos1985 Buick Regal Grand NationalAaron Kiley|Car and DriverThe Buick is by far the meanest-looking. It is also the fastest, because it carries mar­ginally less weight, and because its turbo­charged V-6 engine puts out 20 more horsepower than either the Olds or the Chevy (200 to their 180). The Buick defi­nitely makes the greatest impression on the mob. It really carries the same feeling of menace as an attack helicopter, and its ex­haust note has a lovely, moaning rap that’s guaranteed to raise a young male’s pulse rate by about fifteen points. The Chevy looks more like a NASCAR stocker, and of course, that was the idea. As clunky as a standard Monte Carlo looks, it is nonetheless one of NASCAR’s most successful racing shapes, and Chevrolet’s styl­ists didn’t have to do much to capture the character of the race cars in the SS. Every­thing about the Chevy is skewed toward that perception except the interior. The paint­-and-decal scheme, the wheels and tires, the suspension settings, the front and rear aero aids, and a burbling V-8 noise all combine to enhance the Darlington 500 effect. Aaron Kiley|Car and DriverThe Olds doesn’t seem to have its heart in this competition. Aside from its wheels and tires and a handful of 442 decals, it could be any other Cutlass two-door sedan. Similarly, the interior is all Cutlass, so the car turns out to be less a theme car or character car than a regular Cutlass with some worthwhile performance options. In fact, we’d be delighted to see all of the old front-engine, rear-drive Cutlasses come out of the factory equipped like our 442. . . Then the Oldsmobile Division could devote itself to creating a 442 perfor­mance-and-personality package that would really make a statement. The Chevrolet, the Buick, and the Olds all share a common body shell, as well as an automatic transmission, front and rear sus­pensions, brakes, tires, and front-seat frames. Each division was able to fiddle with spring and shock-absorber rates, anti­roll bars, bushings, and steering ratios, and to install its own engine and torque-con­verter calibrations. (None of the three of­fers a manual gearbox, worse luck.) When you drive all three back to back, the degree to which their respective divisions have been able to make them different from one another is surprising. All three driving seats feel the same, which is to say substan­dard, and all control relationships are more or less identical, but after that, the three cars begin to separate. Aaron Kiley|Car and DriverView Photos1985 Oldsmobile 442Aaron Kiley|Car and DriverAs we’ve said, the Oldsmobile is the least imposing of the three. It is powered by a five-liter version of the old Olds 350 V-8, and the emphasis is on low- and midrange torque. The cast-iron engine is dressed with the same Rochester four-barrel carbu­retor that’s on the Chevy, and the power flows through the same four-speed auto­matic transmission, but there the resem­blance ends. The factory specifies tire pres­sures of 35 psi all around, and this made the 442 a little harsh and thumpy. Yet the overall feeling in the 442 was one of softness and undamped wheel movements. We were thus a little surprised to find that the Olds was quite happy when driven fast on our test roads—Southern California’s Mulholland Drive and Angeles Crest Highway—even when the pavement was rough and the shoulders were crumbled. Much like the true muscle cars of days gone by, with their flabby suspension and vague steering, one simply tossed the 442 into the corner, allowed the suspension to com­press all the way, and then rode it around on the rubber bump stops. Worked fine, despite all kinds of early warnings of immi­nent disaster. The Buick was another matter altogeth­er. The Buick, on the strength of its exteri­or appearance and its wonderful V-6 en­gine, promised everything but was really unhappy when the road got rough and twisty at the same time. The shock absorb­ers just seemed to give up. And since the engine’s performance was so far superior to that of the other two, it only took a small squirt of throttle to get oneself well and truly launched into the next corner. After about three such corners, filled with sturm und drang and flying elbows, we learned to modulate the pressure on the loud pedal. Aaron Kiley|Car and DriverView Photos1985 Buick Regal Grand NationalAaron Kiley|Car and DriverBuick’s 3.8-liter turbo V-6 is a great en­gine in search of a great car. Its perfor­mance is so good that it cries out for a more stable platform than the one offered by the Grand National. Let our technical editor describe it in greater detail: “Although it has only three-quarters the displacement and uses the same pushrod valve gear of its competitors’ V-8 engines, the Buick motor easily outmuscles them both. The source of its power is a comput­er-controlled AiResearch T3 turbocharg­er, which is allowed to generate up to 15 psi of boost under favorable conditions. The proper fuel quantity to match the blown engine’s deep breathing is determined by the same computer, using a mass-airflow sensor and various temperature and pres­sure sensors. Each cylinder’s dose of fuel is then metered very accurately by sequen­tially firing electronic injectors. The com­puter also determines the optimal spark timing and ignites each cylinder’s charge with a high-precision, distributor-less igni­tion system. The result of this exotic tech­nology is a nice, round 200 horsepower and 300 pound-feet of torque.” Aaron Kiley|Car and DriverView Photos1985 Chevrolet Monte Carlo SSAaron Kiley|Car and DriverThe Monte Carlo’s L69 engine is an American classic: a 305-cubic-inch version of the 30-year-old Chevy small-block V-8. Think of it as either the carbureted Z28 en­gine or a regular old Chevy V-8 with a 9.5 compression ratio and a Corvette cam­shaft. Either way, it delivers a very pleasing 180 horsepower. Not as spectacular as the Buick’s turbo V-6, but more than ample for styling and profiling, it moves the Monte Carlo along at a pace that would have been unimaginable five years ago. These cars are true enthusiasts’ vehicles, in that they really don’t make a lot of sense. They’re performance cars that don’t really go all that fast; flash cars with the look and the smell and the roar of race cars, but the soul of mom-and-pop sedans. But it’s as­tonishing how much fun they are. And that’s the whole point. People stare at them. They look terrific. The Buick is about perfect as automotive graphics go, but the Olds and the Monte Carlo have their own songs to sing. Aaron Kiley|Car and DriverView Photos1985 Oldsmobile 442Aaron Kiley|Car and DriverEvery one of the three deserves a better interior. The seats just don’t get it, but our guess is that the target customers for the Olds and the Chevy don’t worry too much about seats and ergonomics—that’s for Porsche people and other poseurs. The Buick, though, is different. First of all, it’s a bit more expensive, and it’s so black, so sleek, that one really ought to be able to yank the door open and be stunned by a gorgeous high-tech interior, including an up-to-date package of analog instruments. The Monte Carlo SS was our overall fa­vorite, with the Buick a very close second. The Monte Carlo doesn’t go as fast or look as mean as the Buick Grand National, but the Monte Carlo offers its driver a nicely balanced portfolio of acceleration, braking and handling, and NASCAR style. It’s clear that Chevrolet gave this car a great deal of thought, because it delivers. The decals and special trim mask no disappointments. The car is what it says it is, and does what it looks like it ought to do. It rolls along the freeway just like a grown-up automobile, yet handles the swoops and humps of the Angeles Crest and Mulholland Drive like a great big sporty car. It ought to be sensa­tional for delivering the beer and friends to the beach for this week­end’s volleyball tournament.Arrow pointing downArrow pointing downSpecificationsSpecifications
    1985 Buick Regal Grand National200-hp turbocharged V-6, 4-speed automatic, 3460 lbBase/as-tested price: $13,565/$16,289C/D TEST RESULTS60 mph: 7.5 sec1/4 mile: 15.7 sec @ 87 mph100 mph: 22.9 secBraking, 70­–0 mph: 198 ftRoadholding, 300-ft-dia skidpad: 0.80 g C/D observed fuel economy: 17 mpg
    1985 Chevrolet Monte Carlo SS180-hp V-8, 4-speed automatic, 3530 lbBase/as-tested price: $11,608/$14,430C/D TEST RESULTS60 mph: 7.8 sec1/4 mile: 15.9 sec @ 86 mph100 mph: 25.6 secBraking, 70­–0 mph: 204 ftRoadholding, 300-ft-dia skidpad: 0.80 g C/D observed fuel economy: 18 mpg
    1985 Oldsmobile 442180-hp V-8, 4-speed automatic, 3570 lbBase/as-tested price: $11,745/$14,366C/D TEST RESULTS60 mph: 9.1 sec1/4 mile: 16.6 sec @ 83 mph100 mph: 31.3 secBraking, 70­–0 mph: 204 ftRoadholding, 300-ft-dia skidpad: 0.78 g C/D observed fuel economy: 14 mpg More

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    From the Archive: 1986 Acura Integra LS Tested

    From the September 1986 issue of Car and Driver.New automotive nameplates don’t come around very often. For one thing, new car companies aren’t started every day. And among established automakers, staking millions on a nameplate that has no image, status, or history to back it up is a risk that few are willing to take.In general, low-end buyers are the most willing to embrace products without pedi­grees. If a car is cheap, as the Hyundai Ex­cel and the Yugo are, that seems to be good enough for the transpo-appliance customers. Once out of the bargain-base­ment class, though, new nameplates face an uphill battle. All the advance publicity in the world failed to convince a respect­able number of buyers that the De Lorean was a worthwhile investment. Similarly, Ford’s Merkur has not exactly set the sales charts on fire in its first two years, despite offering reasonable value for its price and the backing of America’s second-largest car company. The problem is that new nameplates must compete with a large ex­isting population of good-to-great cars­—cars whose virtues are well known to the public. There just aren’t many virgin mar­keting niches left these days, particularly in the highly profitable upmarket segment, which virtually every car manufacturer in the world is going after. Honda’s marketing people nonetheless feel that the time is right to move beyond the limits of their existing nameplate with a new franchise called Acura. The strategy behind the new brand is to supply the tra­ditional Honda virtues of superb quality, driving excellence, and a fair price in a more upscale line of cars. Honda and Acura Archive ReviewsTwo models make up the Acura Auto­mobile Division’s introductory line. The Legend (C/D, August), an all-new luxury car, fits the Acura strategy perfectly, for it’s larger and more expensive than any Honda ever sold in America. The smaller Integra models, however, are not very dif­ferent either in size or in cost from existing Honda products. In fact, the Integras aren’t even all-new. Honda is relying in­stead on premium hardware and all­-around driving performance to create an upmarket image for the Integra line.The foundation of the Integra models is Honda’s highly adaptable and capable Civ­ic chassis. The three-door version is based on the 96.5-inch-wheelbase platform of the Civic four-door sedan and five-door wagon. The five-door Integra rides on a 2.8-inch-longer version of the same chas­sis. Both models employ the Civic’s strut front suspension, located by lower control arms and sprung by torsion bars. The Civ­ic’s power-assisted rack-and-pinion steer­ing is standard. In the rear is the familiar coil-sprung rigid axle located by two trail­ing arms and a Panhard rod; just as on the Civics, the right-side trailing arm is free to rotate on the axle tube, preventing the ax­le’s torsional rigidity from restricting sus­pension motion. As with the Civics, anti­roll bars are fitted at both ends. Aaron Kiley|Car and DriverThe Civic foundation aside, the Integra departs from its forebears with a host of improvements. Its brakes are upgraded, with larger vented discs fitted up front and solid discs replacing drums at the rear. Traction is improved by fitting all Integras with 195/60HR-14 Michelin MXV tires, mounted on 5.5-inch-wide wheels. Not only are the Michelins larger than any pre­vious Civic tires, they’re even larger than any rubber available on Accords. The Integra’s engine (see Technical High­lights below) is derived from the all-aluminum, 1.3- and 1.5-liter Civic motors, but a twin­-cam, sixteen-valve cylinder head has helped boost its power output to 113 hp, a solid 21-hp improvement. The Civic line’s five-speed manual and four-speed auto­matic transaxles have been fitted with gear ratios and reinforcements appropriate to the uprated engine. And, as with the fuel-­injected Civics, the Integra employs equal-­length half-shafts to keep torque-steer effects to a minimum.Technical HighlightsHonda has been building high-output four-valve motorcycle engines for America for years, and many of these motors offer brilliant high-rpm performance. Honda’s first four-valve automotive engine is a much more se­date performer, as impressive in mid-range flexibility as it is in peak power. One reason for this equanimity is the small-bore, long-stroke layout of the Civic engine family to which the Integra powerplant belongs. In fact, the 1.6-liter Integra engine’s 75.0 mm bore and 90.0 mm stroke dimensions are even more under-square than the 74.0 and 86.5 mm figures of the 1.5-liter Civic en­gine. Such a design limits both the en­gine’s revving potential and its valve di­ameter, thereby encouraging the use of a four-valve cylinder head that is special­ly tuned to provide its benefits in the less frenetic rpm ranges. Mild valve timing was selected to fat­ten the torque curve. A finger-follower valvetrain multiplies the lift at the cam lobes to a generous 9.5 mm at the valves. Long (370 mm) intake runners also en­hance midrange breathing. Good high­-end breathing was ensured by the four­-valve layout, which employs two 30 mm-­diameter intake valves and two 27 mm exhaust valves. (For comparison pur­poses, the Civic’s 1.5-liter engine uses twin 27 mm intake valves and a single 33 mm exhaust valve per cylinder.) As a result, power is up from the smaller engine’s 91 hp at 5500 rpm to 113 hp at 6250 rpm. Torque is increased from 93 pound-feet at 4500 rpm to 99 pound-feet at 5500 rpm, and the torque curve is well endowed above and below the peak. About the only trade-off for these increases is a 21-pound weight in­crease (to 207 pounds) over the Civic engine. At a cost of less than one pound apiece, the extra horses are a bargain. —Csaba CsereAlthough the Integra’s designers made good use of Civic hardware for their new car, they realized that familiar styling would not assist in the development of an upmarket image. Consequently, the Integra looks nothing like any Civic. It has much sleeker and more rakish lines; if any­thing, it resembles a shrunken Accord hatchback. The Integra’s shape creates a sporting image by virtue of its low nose, hidden headlights, steeply raked wind­shield, and sloping hatchback design. But sporting clichés have been avoided, and there is a minimum of unnecessary surface detailing and brightwork. The Integra looks as if it belongs in the fast lane but doesn’t look like a boy racer’s car. This no-nonsense design approach car­ries over into the Integra’s interior. The dash is clean and smooth, with a simple layout of controls and white-on-black ana­log instruments. There isn’t a tumorous switch cluster or a glowing electro-screen to be found. Instead of gimmicks, the Integra’s interior offers solidly worked-out fundamentals: a pair of very supportive and comfortable bucket seats in front, a tilt steering column, a proper dead pedal for the driver’s left foot, and gas and brake pedals appropriately positioned for heel­and-toe operation. Everything required for serious driving is present and account­ed for. That isn’t to say that workaday concerns have been neglected. The three-door Integra offers plenty of room for two front passengers; the rear compartment has low bottom cushions and limited headroom but can accommodate a pair of adults for short trips. The five-door, with its longer wheelbase and roofline, offers more head­room and a more comfortable seating po­sition. Both body styles provide a split rear seatback, so the aft compartment can readily be converted into a voluminous cargo hold. Aaron Kiley|Car and DriverWhat we have here is a sporting and practical compact sedan with first-rate run­ning gear—in other words, an ideal foun­dation for an attractive small car. Performance is in no way lacking, either. With just under 2400 pounds to motivate, the sixteen-valve engine can push the three­-door Integra from a standstill to 60 mph in 8.8 seconds and through the standing quarter-mile in 16.5 seconds at 82 mph. The Integra is one quick small sedan. But more important than sheer speed is the joy of winding the Integra through the gears. The five-speed transmission shifts with typical Honda precision and delicacy, and the twin-cam engine revs as if there were no tomorrow. The 7000-rpm redline is easily reached in the first four gears, and the engine will even pull 6250 rpm in fifth, for a top speed of 117 mph. Buzzes and shakes are well muted at high rpm; the eager engine sings the hard-edged song of first-rate machinery working overtime. For all its willingness to rev, the Integra’s powerplant is also happy at doc­ile paces. In normal driving, shifting at 3500 rpm provides plenty of thrust for dealing with everyday traffic, and there’s enough urge in top gear so that not every call for more speed has to be accompanied by a frenzied downshift. This powertrain is just as happy going to the grocery store as it is zapping unsuspecting Z28s and Supras. In between, the Integra squeezes 26 miles from each gallon of fuel, accord­ing to the EPA’s city test. The Integra’s suspension complements its well-rounded powertrain very nicely. The sporty Acura rides better than any Civic, with less harshness over small ruts and a more supple action over large bumps, and yet it is plenty capable in the twisties. Its power steering is quick and precise, with plenty of on-center feel, and a respectable 0.78 g of well-balanced grip is available. When the front end finally does start to slide, reducing power restores grip immediately and causes the Integra to con­tinue turning in. In short, the Integra is easy to drive, even when pushed to and be­yond the edge. As capable as the Integra is, though, don’t expect it to run away from such com­mitted sports sedans as the Chevrolet Cava­lier Z24 or Dodge Shadow ES. The Integra lies much closer to the middle of the comfort-performance spectrum than such cars, which trade away a great deal of refinement for their raw speed and corner­ing ability. Like the Volkswagen GTI, the Integra is an all-around player: Its speedy virtues are blended nicely into a mature personality that offers comfort and perfor­mance in approximately equal measure. Such a mix can only be accomplished by combining first-class hardware with pains­taking development. In addition to being a wonderful car to drive, the Integra is well equipped with features and conveniences that contribute to everyday satisfaction. The base Integra, labeled RS, comes with dual remote-con­trol mirrors, a rear defroster, a rear wiper/ washer, a center console, and a very well-finished interior. The higher-level LS model adds aluminum wheels, a pop-out sunroof, plusher carpeting, cruise control, and an AM/FM-stereo radio/cassette, complete with an equalizer. The LS five­-door also gets power windows, which would be a nice touch on the three-door as well. We’d also like to see a height adjust­ment for the excellent seats, but there’s really very little missing from these cars. That makes the $10,848 base price of the three-door LS look pretty good. And the RS comes with all of the same basic hardware for $1400 less. Both Integras, judged by any standard of speed, comfort, utility, or refinement, are the kind of auto­motive bargains that should attract the so­-called upmarket buyers in droves. Wheth­er the Acura name will attract their attention is still an open question, but good automotive values seldom remain se­cret for long. CounterpointLooks like another success for Honda—er, Acura. But then we’ve come to expect as much from the Japa­nese maker that’s currently producing some of the best cars in the world. The Acura Integra is everything a sporty hatchback should be. If you’ve driven a Honda before, you’ll feel right at home in the Integra. The seating position is upright, com­fortable, and well-located in relation to the excellent controls and instruments. The Integra’s 1.6-liter four is a gem. It won’t kick you back into your seat, but it will wind out easily, feeling taut and smooth right up to 7000 rpm. Add the slick five-speed and you have sheer driv­ing pleasure. I have but two complaints. The air conditioning in our test car had to be left on high on an 80-degree day, and still the interior never got American-style icebox-cool. And the steering had a vague on-center feel, with too much free play when returning to a straight line. One other thing: Who needs the Acura label? The Honda name already defines a premium line. —Arthur St. AntoineHonda is one carmaker that never shrinks from a challenge. This year’s project is the amalgamation of a new nameplate, fresh fenders, and some old Civic parts to create the Acura Integra. Many manufacturers would sweat and strain over such an undertaking, but Honda makes it look like child’s play. The Integra’s sixteen-valve engine tech­nology has been racing around Europe­an and Japanese streets and Formula 1 circuits for a few years, so it lands in America fully matured. The modest Civ­ic underpinnings have been elevated to a new plateau with minor refinements and a major upgrade in rolling stock. The interior fittings and the exterior de­cor have class without being crass. The real magic, however, comes from refinement. The Integra’s engine matches its suspension, which jibes with the cockpit, which makes sense with the exterior envelope. What we have here is an automobile so nicely integrated that even its name fits. —Don Sherman Like the great major-league pitchers, Honda has a repertoire that just won’t quit. When this company winds up, you never know what kind of pitch to expect—big car, small car, cheap car, luxocar—but it’s sure to be a strike. Well, here we go again. This new Acura is a lovely automobile that should be contemplated by anyone in the mar­ket for a rocket box of the VW GTI per­suasion. The Integra, though, is soft where the GTI is hard-edged, creamy where the little VW is brazen. We’re talking relatively small increments, mind you, but differences you can see and feel. The lntegra packs plenty of sportiness, but Acura’s spin on the ball adds a touch of refinement and plush­ness and backs off a notch on pure aggression. So if you like GTis, or GLis, or Sis, or Colt Turbos, you’ll like this little filly just fine. Just don’t ask me for advice when it comes time to buy. In this league, every one of these cars is in strike territory. —Rich CepposArrow pointing downArrow pointing downSpecificationsSpecifications
    1986 Acura Integra LSVehicle Type: front-engine, front-wheel-drive, 5-passenger, 3-door sedan
    PRICE
    Base/As Tested: $11,098/$12,334Options: air conditioning, $986
    ENGINEDOHC 16-valve inline-4, aluminum block and head, direct fuel injectionDisplacement: 97 in3, 1590 cm3Power: 113 hp @ 6250 rpmTorque: 99 lb-ft @ 5500 rpm 
    TRANSMISSION5-speed manual
    CHASSIS
    Suspension, F/R: strut/live axleBrakes, F/R: 9.5-in vented disc/9.4-in discTires: Michelin MXV195/60HR-14
    DIMENSIONS
    Wheelbase: 96.5 inLength: 168.5 inWidth: 65.6 inHeight: 53.0 inPassenger Volume, F/R: 48/34 ft3Cargo Volume: 9 ft3Curb Weight: 2396 lb
    C/D TEST RESULTS
    60 mph: 8.8 sec1/4-Mile: 16.5 sec @ 82 mph100 mph: 30.2 sec110 mph: 58.3Top Gear, 30–50 mph: 10.5 secTop Gear, 50–70 mph: 12.1 secTop Speed: 117 mphBraking, 70–0 mph: 194 ftRoadholding, 300-ft Skidpad: 0.78 g 
    C/D FUEL ECONOMY
    Observed: 22 mpg 
    EPA FUEL ECONOMYCity/Highway: 26/30 mpg 
    C/D TESTING EXPLAINEDContributing EditorCsaba Csere joined Car and Driver in 1980 and never really left. After serving as Technical Editor and Director, he was Editor-in-Chief from 1993 until his retirement from active duty in 2008. He continues to dabble in automotive journalism and LeMons racing, as well as ministering to his 1965 Jaguar E-type, 2017 Porsche 911, and trio of motorcycles—when not skiing or hiking near his home in Colorado.  More