Volvo XC60

Over the bridge and through the woods till mödrars hus vi gor. When Volvo first started their love affair with jacked up wagons equipped with AWD and some extra ride height, they had two groups in mind: The Swedes that live in rural Sweden with miles of unpaved dirt roads in the forest which turn to mud in the long dark winter, and the American soccer mom who thinks she needs an SUV like vehicle to cross the puddle in the Neiman Marcus parking lot. Thanks to our recently departed leader Robert Farago, we know how the XC60 does on pavement, but since Volvo offered to give us an XC60 for a week, I decided to take a different approach and review the XC60 in the dirt back-roads of coastal northern California and the icy roads of the Sierra Nevada to see if you can actually combine living off the grid and “Scandinavian luxury.”

On paper the XC60 looks like just what the yuppie doctor ordered. The XC60 boasts a Grand Cherokee and LR2 besting 9.1 inches of ground clearance, the same AWD system as the LR2 (which it should be noted was originally borrowed from Volvo’s S80 to begin with), sexy curves and some rugged looking plastic on the front and rear overhang. At 4174lbs, the XC60 is no lightweight but does somehow manage to be slimmer than both the LR2 and the Grand Cherokee.

Visually the XC60 is actually a departure from the Volvo styling that has been in place since 1999. Volvo’s design department somehow managed to make the XC60 instantly recognizable as a Volvo, yet change the form enough that when parked next to Volvo’s larger XC90 it makes its older brother look ancient.

Inside the XC60 is modern Volvo all the way. The only low point in this otherwise well designed cabin is the Nav system. Volvo used to be known for their trick pop-up nav system, and the coolness factor of the pop-up was a welcome distraction from the basic design of the system. Instead of this arrangement used in all other Volvo models, the Swedish design team crafted an Audi like pod for the nav screen in the center console and moved the screen for the radio up to a strange binnacle on the dash. There are two problems with this: First, the radio controls are way too far from the radio’s screen, and secondly the nav screen looks ill fitted and far too small for the hole they gave it in the dash. Adding insult to injury is the fact that should you not opt for the $1,800 nav system you get a bizarre cubby where the screen should go that tells all your passengers you were too cheap to splurge for the nav. I have been told to expect the new 2011 S60’s totally revamped Nav and audio package in the 2011 XC60, let’s hope so; it can’t get here fast enough.

With the rear seats up the XC60’s sloping rear profile means you are limited to 31cu ft of cargo space which expands to 67 cu ft with the rear seats folded. Compared to the Euro competition the XC60 packs a week’s worth of camping supplies (including water) with relative ease. Once off the beaten track it becomes obvious that the base 17” wheels are more on- than off-road tuned, but fortunately the rest of the suspension is up to the task. Suspension travel is well suited to heavily rutted dirt and mud roads and Volvo kindly supplies approach departure and breakover angles (22, 27 and 22 degrees respectively) which proved useful while navigating the many treacherous roads that litter the Lost Coast region of Northern California. Volvo’s optional skid plates, bumper bars and scuff plates are probably something Volvo should add to their press fleet as it was my mission to go where no $47,000 Euro CUV should ever be taken.

Let’s get things clear from the start, the XC60 is not, and never will be, a rock crawler. If you plan to ford more than a 10”of water or crawl over boulders or logs, then a Wrangler is what you need. If a luxury rock crawler is more your style and you only have $45K to work with, try a used Range Rover. The Haldex AWD system the XC60 uses is capable of delivering a 50/50 power split should it be needed, sending 90% of the power to the front under normal conditions.

Unlike a “true” SUV, the Haldex system operates using a locked center differential (to be honest there is no center diff at all, the transmission has the front and rear power outputs permanently locked), between the rear diff and the transmission lays a Haldex clutch pack that infinitely varies the connection between the transmission and the rear wheels. Power transfer takes less than 1/7th of a tyre rotation should a slip be detected, and the system can vary the clutch pack on its own whenever it feels like it. The system operates as advertised and strikingly well on sand, several inches of mud, steep ruts, a few inches of snow and moderate off-roading. As with many crossover AWD systems, when the going gets icy, the lack of a locking center differential becomes readily apparent. When climbing a steep driveway with an inch of slippery ice coating it, the XC60 spent much of its time spinning the front wheels, it was only when the traction control was disabled that the car shifted power to the rear and made it up the drive. That being said, I clocked over 26 hours on unpaved backcountry roads in the XC60 and didn’t get stuck. There were ditches we had to stop and fill in with logs to traverse, trees that had to be moved out of the way, and jaw-dropped looks from ATV and jacked up Wrangler owners we passed along the way.

On the road the XC60 handles with more prowess than it’s curb weight or FWD-biased drivetrain would suggest, but unfortunately Volvo’s choice of Goodyear tires isn’t quite up to the task. The Pirelli Scorpions squeal at the slightest provocation and fail to grip when the going gets muddy or icy. Powering this Swedish cute-ute is Volvo’s sweet 3.0L twin-scroll turbo inline 6, which was introduced just a year ago. Quite similar in design to BMW’s new N55 3.0L I-6 engine, the T6 as Volvo calls it, pumps out 281 horsepower and 295 lb-ft of torque with the typically-Volvo flat torque curve. Mated to an Aisin 6 speed automatic, power delivery is smooth and strong, and with a 0-60 time of 7.4 seconds, one might almost say quick, almost. The XC60 climbs up rugged, un-paved muddy trails with composure, never seeming taxed.

One cannot review a Volvo without discussing Safety. Volvo proudly touts the XC60 as the safest vehicle they have ever built, and my experience with the electronic systems in the XC60 may just bear that out. After Volvo’s PR company handed me the keys to the XC60 I hopped on the freeway for my 30 mile drive home and like any techno-nerd the first thing I did was play with the electronics. The first thing the car did was bing at me and tell me I wasn’t driving in an alert manner. I hate it when my car is right. The second thing the XC60 did was scold me for following too closely with LEDs that reflect on the dash. And the last thing the XC60 did for me was save my bacon.

As traffic slowed, the adaptive cruise control disabled (Volvo’s system turns off and returns control to the driver below 5MPH) and my inattention returned. I was distracted by an accident on the other side of the freeway when the XC60 in rapid succession beeped loudly at me and piled on the brakes, snapping me back to attention. “Auto braking by city safety” appeared on the dash, completing the XC60’s party trick. Effective from approximately 2 to 19MPH, the XC60’s laser scanners detect moving and stationary cars and will either come to a complete stop or at least drastically reduce your speed at the last minute to avoid or reduce the effect of an accident. City safety is standard on the 2010 XC60 and I can safely say, it worked as advertised. Of course Volvo includes a whole host of other electronic nannies that are too numerous to list, but it’s safe to say Volvo’s reputation for building Swedish tanks is alive and well.

The XC60 proves that Volvo can make a dirt road-capable CUV with styling flair and enough electronic nannies to satisfy the risk-adverse in the crowd (not to mention your insurance broker). The real question is if buyers will actually cross-shop the XC60 with its German competition. Stacked up to the Q5, X3 and GLK, the Volvo shines with more power, excellent cargo capacity, unique styling and a suitably upscale interior. Starting at $33,000 for the FWD 235HP, model, our Volvo provided tester hit the nosebleed section at a whopping $47,395. Admittedly this can seem like a bargain when you look at the Q5’s starting price of $37,350 and a similarly equipped price of $51,625, the question is: Can Volvo get you to buy one?

2010 Nissan Altima Coupe

For a reviewer, getting handed a car with delivery miles on the odometer is an instant promotion to tribal shaman. You’re given a quick pat on the back before being shoved into a hut with the village’s prettiest virgin. Needless to say, this privilege comes with the sacred duty of keeping the virgin in tip-top shape, otherwise your term as high-muck-a-much will be pretty short-lived. Unfortunately for my political aspirations, the Mazda2 loves being ridden hard. It squeals through corners, snarling like a dog in heat. There’s a lot more fun to be had here than the tiny 185/55R15 Dunlop Sports suggest.

Of course, being on a deadline and with nothing to report but “it’s fu-un”, I knew I needed a different hook for this story. To put the Mazda2 in perspective, I needed to compare it to the class leader. Which just happens to be the Honda Fit. The old girl has just gotten a big time makeover, and she knows more tricks than most anyone else. With Satan as my co-pilot, we head out into the wilderness for a head-to-head comparison.

On paper, the Mazda2’s 102 hp 1.5 liter MZR and 4-speed automatic aren’t very impressive. The Fit has 15 ponies and one gear more. But from a roll, you’d be hard pressed to see a difference. The Mazda’s willing motor and short gears make it much more responsive than the figures suggest, especially at highway speeds. It suffers more deflection in crosswinds, but trumps the Honda in terms of high speed stability over heaves. The steering also firms up much more at speeds, giving you more confidence in dealing with road conditions. While the engine struggles to pull past 100 mph, the Mazda’s small footprint makes it easy to thread through traffic to conserve what precious little momentum you can build up in such a light car. I’d complain about the lack of paddle-shifters or even the ubiquitous +/- Mazdamatic (don’t laugh) that comes on Mazda’s bigger cars, but the transmission downshifts quite willingly whether or not you play with the overdrive toggle.

Taken off the high roads and up into the hills, the Mazda2 further impresses. While the ABS kicks in annoyingly early when you’re diving nose-down into a corner with one rear wheel cocked in the air, it’s a better balanced backroads companion than the Fit. It corners flatter than the Honda, and doesn’t grind over midcorner bumps. The Honda’s soft suspension setting and annoyingly low ride height, both a boon on the highway, count against it here. Though both cars have reassuringly firm side bolsters, we found ourselves sliding around a lot more inside the Fit when playing cat and mouse through the esses. The Mazda’s electro-hydraulic steering rack is surprisingly firm and tactile. She may be faking it, like all the new girls do, but she does it like a pornstar. And like a pornstar, she just goes on and on. This little-car-that-could soaks up the punishment long after the Fit has flown into the weeds. Despite not being appreciably heavier than the Mazda2, the Honda Fit seems to have lost some of the spunky edge that made the first-generation car so beloved of enthusiasts, all in search of more refinement. The Mazda2 beats it in both regards, combining comfort and ability much better than either generation of Honda’s supermini.

In fact, I’d venture as far as saying that it’s better than the Mazda3 in similar spec. The Mazda3 also manages to be both supple and sure-footed, but you often get the sense that suspension tuning is quite “all there” compared to its sister car, the Focus. The Mazda2, on the other hand, is more stable over heaves and flatter through the corners. Makes you wonder how good the Fiesta will be.

While the Mazda2 has the usual higher content of hard surfaces and duff fabrics, the funky interior feels more Bavarian than Banzai. It has vault-like sound deadening and (slightly) more supportive seats than the Fit. Even the fat, chunky steering wheel, with its big silver spokes, feels like it’s come off a 1-series rather than a Mazda. It’s an apt comparison, the 1-series has shitty plastic, too.

Others might find a similarity in the subtle contouring of the Mazda2’s flanks. This inspiration, however, is drawn from Mazda’s new “Nagare” (wind) school of design. This wraps the car in curvy lines that, unlike those on the BMW 1-series, actually go somewhere interesting and don’t disappear in mid-thought.

Flame-surfacing aside, there’s a lot of detail in the car itself. The swept-back and pulled-in greenhouse makes the Mazda2 look wider than it is, and the flared arches wrap tightly around the puny 15” alloys this tester came in on. Not that it needs any more rubber. Like the Mini Cooper, the Mazda2 extracts an incredible amount of performance from a tiny amount of contact patch.

Unfortunately, while the Mazda2 is much roomier than a Mini, it’s nowhere near as cavernous inside as a Fit. This may be its biggest stumbling block in penetrating a US market which is still getting used to the Fit subcompact. And our Mazda tester is worryingly bare of such essentials as electronic stability control (available for more money), rear disc brakes (which would help with the braking issue) and side-curtain airbags. There are multiple spec levels for the Mazda2, but ours is bare as bare can be without ditching the radio/i-Pod jack and climate control. Which are nothing to write home about, anyway.

Neither is the straight-line performance. A 0-62 mph time of 11.7 seconds (half a tick slower than the heavier 1.5AT Fit) doesn’t count as exciting in anyone’s books. The 2011 model’s uprated 5-speed automatic should find that extra half-second, though an extra thirty or forty horses would be an even better upgrade. But then, there’s more to driving fun than stoplight drags.

Still, it’s nice to see that “fun” and “frugal” aren’t mutually exclusive. The Mazda2’s 30+ mpg is like finding out the village virgin is good both in bed and in the kitchen. And, unlike the similar and similarly fun Suzuki Swift, she’ll take the kids to school for you, too. The only problem is the dowry she commands. Properly equipped, a Mazda2 costs about as much as a Honda Fit with the same kit. Now, paying Fit money for what is an arguably better car makes a lot of sense. Paying Fit money for what is an undoubtedly smaller one doesn’t. But as with tribal virgins, size isn’t the only thing that matters. The Mazda2’s sweet disposition, raunchy performance and pert looks might be more than enough to win people over.

The test vehicle was loaned to me by Mazda, with a full tank of gas and new tires, for testing purposes. It was returned with a nearly empty tank of gas, slightly worn tires and a big grin.