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Updates from April, 2012

  • New cars and trucks sold in the United States are getting an average of 24 miles per gallon (9.8 litres per 100 km) of gasoline, the highest ever, say researchers at the University of Michigan.

    The average fuel economy rating as shown by window stickers on new vehicles bought in March — including pickup trucks, SUVs, minivans and passenger cars — was 24.1 mpg, the researchers found. That was up 20% from the average of 20 mpg (11.75 L/100 km) in October 2007, they say.

    The university’s Transportation Research Institute began monthly updates on fuel economy four-and-a-half years ago.

    The researchers also say that their index measuring polluting greenhouse gas emissions per new vehicle has fallen by 17% since October 2007.


    1:00 pm on April 13, 2012
     
  • Neckarsulm, Germany • Being the upstart in the German luxury sedan sweepstakes (and considering it was born out of Horch — by way of Auto Union — which can trace its roots way back to 1899, it’s hard to deem Volkswagen’s luxury arm as a parvenu), Audi tries a little harder and is a little more willing to take chances.

    That’s especially true with Europe’s luxury D-segment cars, where, truth be told, Audi’s A8 is an afterthought compared with the more established Mercedes S-Class and BMW 7 Series. Despite four generations of exquisite aluminum-chassis engineering, there’s still little following for the company’s top-of-the-line über-sedan. With nothing to lose, the good fellows from Ingolstadt are willing to experiment more than their hide-bound German competition.

    This means that some time in the not-too-distant future — even though it will be available in Europe by June — Audi will be testing the waters with a four-cylinder A8. (Cort Nielsen, Audi Canada’s public relations guru, isn’t quite sure when we’ll see it.) Yes, a $100,000 sedan with a measly four-banger.

    Oh, the Hybrid badge on the rear trunk lid adds the legitimacy of an electric motor driving the front wheels and a big graphite-cathode lithium ion battery in the trunk. Nonetheless, the new A8’s basic powerplant is still the same 2.0-litre TFSI turbo four-cylinder that can be found in all manner of downmarket Audis, not to mention a slew of even more pedestrian Volkswagens. But, such is the marketing hype of hybrid technology — and perhaps a measure of the desperation to establish the A8’s bona fides — that Audi will soon be selling a premium luxury sedan with but four pistons.

    So, the big question is, what does the environmentally conscious banker give up in his or her quest for both hedonistic luxury and fuel-sipping parsimony?

    Not too much, if my short drive around Audi’s spiritual home is any indication. With only four pistons combusting, the Hybrid boasts 245 horsepower — middling, anyway you judge it. But, sporting a turbocharger and a transmission-mounted 40-kilowatt electric motor for added thrust, there’s an almost diesel-like (more on that in a moment) 354 pound-feet of torque available as low as 1,500 rpm.

    Riding that wave of torque, there’s very little indication the Hybrid is anything other than yet another fully hedonistic luxury sedan. Even from low revs, acceleration feels muscular and, thanks to the engine’s relatively low revs and some excellent noise, vibration and harshness management from the standard active noise control system, none of the cacophony usually accompanying high-revving four-bangers intrudes on the sybaritic (of which, like in all A8s, there is much) experience.

    The combination of the 2.0 TFSI and electric motor is all but indistinguishable, then, from the comportment of the conventional 3.0L V6-powered A8 we’ll soon see in Canada. Only at the upper reaches of its rev band (and exactly what rpm I am referring to is a mystery as Audi has replaced the traditional tachometer with a more hybrid-oriented “% power” meter) does the diminutive powertrain feel strained, and only when asking for more maximum warp speed.

    Still, you can occasionally feels a few vibrations through the gas pedal, when the eight-speed automatic transmission — obviously calibrated for fuel economy — tries to keep its torque converter locked when accelerating at low revs (usually during a mild passing manoeuvre). Then, the combination of high load and low rpm sends a little four-cylinder tingle through the driveline. It’s a minor thing, something even the princess-and-the-pea might miss were she not in her hyper-critical autojournalist mode.

    However, there are some compromises if you want an A8 to achieve the same 8.6 litres per 100 kilometres I averaged during my 200-kilometre stint in the Hybrid. The first is that the quattro all-wheel-drive system for which Audi is justifiably famous is not available with the hybrid powertrain. So, A8 owners looking to conquer our snow-covered north should look elsewhere. Also, although the 1.3-kWh lithium ion battery (good for three kilometres of electric-only motoring, if you have a delicate throttle foot and the patience of Job) weighs only 38 kilograms, it takes up quite a bit of space in the trunk, with a pronounced hump precluding the loading of a full-sized Ping golf bag.

    Part of its girth is a nifty cooling system that force-feeds the batteries atmospheric air as well as some from the air conditioning system to ensure all those lithium ions never exceed 42C.

    Lastly, the A8, like all hybrids, uses regenerative braking — essentially reversing the polarity of the electric motor — to recharge the battery while stop-and-going around town. This electrical retardation can be a little over-sensitive when braking at slow speeds. No matter how gingerly the brake pedal is massaged, there’s a little jolt as the electric brakes kick in. It’s not apparent at high speeds and most owners should quickly acclimatize, but other automakers with more experience with hybrids — Toyota, for instance — have managed to attenuate the problem.

    Though interesting from both a technological and performance point of view, I’m most fascinated with the A8 Hybrid as social commentary. You see, while the hybrid posts stellar numbers — it averages 6.3 L/100 km in the European cycle and emits only 147 grams of carbon dioxide for every kilometre — Audi Canada will soon begin importing the 3.0L turbodiesel version of the A8 for approximately the same price (about $90,000 if the European price is any indication). And, yes, its fuel consumption/emissions numbers are about the same. The TDI emits slightly more CO2 — 158 grams per km — but is slightly more frugal, consuming just six litres of putrefied dinosaur juice every 100 klicks.

    Just to confuse things further, there’s a high-performance, 247-hp 3.0L TDI that gets 6.4 L/100 km and emits 169 g/km. So, to reiterate, Audi has three A8s with combined fuel economy in the sixes — 6.6, 6.3 and 6.0 — with the Hybrid flanked by the two diesel versions.

    Which will be the more popular — the media darling (that would be the Hybrid in case you’re wondering), or the more traditional but more publicity-challenged diesel? It’s the first time, at least in Canada, that diesel and hybrid powertrains have competed for prominence in virtually identical automobiles. I await your decision.


    8:00 am on April 4, 2012
     
  • By Veronique Dupont

    NEW YORK • Natural gas, whose price is at record lows thanks to a shale drilling boom, is gaining traction as an alternative energy in the United States, with automakers jumping on the bandwagon.

    The use of natural gas instead of oil-based gasoline to drive the country’s cars and trucks “is definitely starting to take off,” says Mark Hanson, an analyst at investment research firm Morningstar. “The economics seem to work,” he says, noting it was “just a question of what pace” the necessary infrastructure will take to develop.

    Gas is in focus as a potential engine fuel because “it is tremendously good fuel,” says David Cole, the chairman emeritus of the Center for Automotive Research in the U.S.

    Unlike gasoline, whose rising prices are causing pain at the pump for consumers, natural gas is cheap in the United States as supplies bulge from production in the country’s vast shale gas formations. In addition, natural gas burns while emitting less carbon dioxide than gasoline.

    Thus, it is considered a “green” fuel even though in its raw state, the methane it emits is more destructive to the Earth’s ozone layer than CO2, and the artificial fracturing of gas shales, known as “fracking,” has drawn fire from environmentalists.

    There are several forms of natural gas used to power vehicles. Compressed natural gas (CNG) is pressurized gas stored in a similar way to a vehicle’s gasoline tank. Liquefied natural gas (LNG) is produced by chilling natural gas to about minus -162 C. It can be used as engine fuel for heavy ground or maritime vehicles. In Europe, the fuel of choice for automobiles is liquefied petroleum gas, typically a mixture of butane and propane made from refined crude oil or natural gas.

    In the U.S., the Big Three are pumping out vehicles based on alternative fuels. Ford has the largest array of alternative-energy vehicles: eight powered by natural gas. Fiat-controlled Chrysler, in early March unveilled a pickup truck than can use liquefied natural gas, which will go on sale in June.

    Sergio Marchionne, the CEO of Fiat and Chrysler, views natural gas as having greater potential than electricity to power vehicles.

    General Motors produces two vans that use compressed natural gas, the Chevy Express and the GMC Savana, and will begin production by the end of the year on two pickup trucks running on CNG. GM already has sold 1,200 of the vans to U.S. telecommunications firm AT&T.

    The automaker is working on a number of different alternative fuels and particularly on electric vehicles.
    But Dan Flores, a GM spokesman, says: “We think compressed natural gas offers a lot of potential. The technology is promising.”

    It is particularly appealing to businesses, especially service providers such as telecoms, package deliverers such as UPS, or to local governments, which operate trash removal or emergency vehicle fleets.

    CNG vehicles operate at relatively short distances from a refueling hub. The economies of scale for a large business or public body can potentially justify the cost of an investment in the specialized refuelling equipment.

    For individual consumers, the refuelling infrastructure is limited. And compressed or liquefied gas is expensive and requires substantial storage capacity, restricting the vehicles’ range.

    Hanson says that there are only about 400 CNG stations in the U.S.

    In Europe, natural gas also is sparking interest amid rising gasoline prices, but so far it remains only a small portion of the market.


    1:13 pm on March 28, 2012
     
  • GENEVA •  Swatch, the world’s biggest watch company, is looking at building a car that runs on hydrogen and oxygen, its chief executive and chairman Nick Hayek said in an interview published Sunday.

    “We already have a test car with a fuel cell,” Hayek told newspaper NZZ am Sonntag.

    “Liquid hydrogen and oxygen are used as fuel, producing very efficient combustion,” he says, adding that the management board of Belenos — the Swatch subsidiary building the vehicle — has already driven around on the prototype.

    “What we don’t know is whether it would be cost-efficient to build,” says Hayek, the son of Swatch’s founder.

    The fuel-cell vehicle is not Swatch’s first attempt at building a green car. In 1997, it teamed up with Daimler-Benz to build the two-seater Smart, but the watch firm later sold its shares to Daimler-Benz.


    8:00 am on March 27, 2012
     
  • What was once a single model that defined Toyota’s commitment to environmental performance and superior fuel economy has become a line of cars — an obvious sign of success. My guess, then, is that the ultimate sign of success for Toyota will be to have Prius become a verb, much like Google has. “We priused our way to Florida, averaging five litres per 100 kilometres.” OK, that’s reaching.

    The second entrant in the Prius hybrid lineup, the Prius v, is an extension of the (third-generation) original, with essentially the same powertrain but in a more wagon-like hatchback body style designed to meet — if things go according to Toyota’s marketing plans — the needs of growing families. (The Prius c — for city — an “urban-friendly” hatchback, will be available next month; the Prius Plug-in Hybrid in 2012.)

    From a purely esthetic standpoint, the v is by far a more attractive hybrid than the four-door liftback model, said third-generation model launched for the 2010 model year. (To be fair, the liftback is much more mainstream than its two predecessors, which seemed to revel in an overt, funky green smugness.) The v, though, blends in (or stands out, depending on your interpretation) with the likes of the Mazda5 and Kia Forte5 as a more versatile — hence the v suffix — family car with minivan/crossover overtones and an emphasis on cargo space.

    In a normal review, I would start with the powertrain and then move to performance and handling dynamics. But, this is a Prius, people — it’s not an especially fun car to drive for motor heads. It’s sort of slow — especially when accelerating from a standstill — changing to glacial when in Eco mode and on an incline. Push the console-mounted Power mode button and acceleration improves noticeably, as does the ruckus from the 1.8-litre gasoline engine when big-time passing power is called for. Anybody who expects anything but is dreaming in technicolour. But people dig this car because its hybrid technology is still cool and it boasts miserly fuel consumption. Plus, it gets a big thumbs up from both Hollywood and the environmentalists.

    If you are serious about keeping your hard-earned dollars out of the hands of the oil companies, you can’t go wrong, especially with the new body style. My week with the tester generated a parsimonious 6.3 litres per 100 kilometres, without me
    going to any great lengths to be eco-friendly.

    What makes the v a better Prius than the standard model is its genuinely roomy cabin, with excellent sightlines out the front and side windows. Even with the front seats back in their tracks, there’s (just) enough room in the rear for leggy six-footers, with plenty of headroom to boot. Popping the rear hatch reveals a wide, deep cargo area with 34.3 cubic feet of space behind the rear seats, which Toyota claims makes the v the most spacious dedicated hybrid vehicle on the market. Dropping those sliding, second-row, 60/40-split perches all but doubles the hatch’s capacity. Plus, the front-passenger seat folds flat for longer items.

    Like the Prius, the v’s Hybrid Synergy Drive system uses two high-output motors, one 60-kilowatt (80-horsepower) unit that mainly works to power the transaxle and another smaller motor that primarily works as the electric power source. The nickel-metal hydride battery pack is the same as on the Prius liftback but with a cooling duct located under the rear seat. Hybrid Synergy Drive is a series-parallel hybrid system that can provide power from the gas engine alone, the motor alone or a mix of both. It uses a start/stop system and regenerative braking to conserve fuel and recharge the battery under deceleration. The drive system is built around the 98-hp 1.8L Atkinson-cycle four-cylinder engine and, working together, contri-butes to a total of 134 hp.

    In addition to the standard driving mode and Eco and Power modes, there is also the EV mode, which allows the Prius v to run on battery power alone for very short distances (1.6 kilometres maximum) and lower speeds. In Eco, the engine management system emphasizes fuel economy, manages throttle response and limits power consumption from the air conditioning.

    One of the more interesting aspects of the v’s suspension setup is Pitch and Bounce Control, which works with the beefed-up suspension bits to improve ride comfort and control, Toyota figuring that the larger v is more likely to carry loads and passengers and thus needs the upgrades. According to the automaker, Pitch and Bounce Control uses the torque of the hybrid motor to enhance ride comfort and control. The system, working with wheel-speed sensors and in tune with the suspension, helps suppress bounce and toss motions to improve passenger comfort. Because it helps control the balance and posture of the vehicle as a whole, it also functions to improve handling response.

    While it sounds like an overly complicated way to deal with a relatively minor problem, it does seem to work — the v’s ride is better than most similarly sized hybrids I’ve driven and it corners well, maintaining a reasonably flat attitude on on-ramps and the like.

    For anyone with a familiarity with the Prius liftback, the v’s cabin will prove as welcoming as an old friend. There’s the centre-mounted instrument panel, the driving controls including push-button start, parking switch, drive-by-wire shift toggle and driving mode buttons.

    Integrated into the cabin are the obligatory high-tech electronics and enhanced connectivity features, including standard Bluetooth and a USB port to play music and videos from portable audio devices, using the audio system and 6.1-inch in-dash display screen. The screen also displays the energy monitor and fuel consumption data and doubles as the monitor for the backup camera.

    The Prius v retails for $27,200, a reasonable price for a hybrid of its size and intent and with the number of standard features it carries. The tester, however, was loaded to the max with a $9,675 Touring + Technology package (a combination of three separate available packages), weighing it down with a far heftier $36,875 sticker. A panoramic sunroof, heated front seats, premium audio system, Intelligent Parking Assist, Dynamic Radar Cruise Control, voice-activated DVD navigation system, synthetic leather seats and a ton of stuff more are all included. Maybe it’s just me, but I felt this was overkill, trying to turn the v into some sort of luxury hybrid, which  it’s not.

    That aside, the hatchback proved to be a pleasant driving experience. While still maintaining a portion of the Prius iconoclasm that isn’t present in more mainstream-oriented hybrid sedans (Ford Fusion, Hyundai Sonata and Kia Optima, for example), the v’s design and space utility make it an easy fit into the hybrid segment. It’s a welcome addition, one that will help evolve the Prius line.


    9:00 am on February 25, 2012
     
  • It’s been a long, sweet ride, this decade-long rant against all things hybrid.

    The monumental lack of return on complication — my new copyrighted term denoting the futility of automakers adding more gizmos with little effect — of the first generations of gasoline/electric vehicles has allowed me to offend enviroweenies, castigate the media and ridicule Hollywood celebrity shills alike, all to great glee. We journalists — or maybe it’s just me — are obvious creatures: Give us windmills to tilt at and our inherent righteous indignation gives our fingers the strength, or at least the stamina, of a thousand hands.

    Unfortunately, I may be losing my favourite whipping boy. Oh, don’t worry, I am not about to change my opinion on hybrids past. But there’s a new electrified vehicle and, alert the media, it lives up to the hype of the last 10 years, providing real-world fuel economy gains at an economical price and in a package that’s actually sort of fun to drive.

    That car, the 2012 Toyota Camry Hybrid.

    OK, so it’s no surprise. After all, two-thirds of all hybrids sold in Canada since the introduction of the first Prius in 2001 have been Toyotas. The reason for my change of heart — conversion, if you will, since environmentalism is quickly becoming a religion — is simple. It’s the result of just one number: 6.6. As in the number of litres per 100 kilometres I averaged over a 10-day-long, almost-2,000-kilometre test. It’s such a phenomenal figure — remember I am a lead-footed gear head — outshining all cars of even remotely equivalent size/performance that I actually reset the darned mileage meter numerous times so skeptical was I that the onboard computer was lying to me. The end result, despite that leaden foot, was always the same, the electrically boosted Camry averaging 6.6 litres per 100 kilometres regardless of the type of driving — urban or rural — or, within reason, the speeds involved. It is the most impressive instance of fuel-sipping stinginess I can recollect.

    The biggest surprise of the 2012 Camry’s performance is that its highway fuel economy — at, say, 120 kilometres an hour or higher — was excellent if not quite stellar. Hybrids have long eked out some in-town fuel savings, but they have floundered on the open road. Their electric motors have little or no effect at sustained elevated cruising speeds and, since little braking occurs, there’s no battery rejuvenation. Despite all the hype surrounding the advantages of electrification, at highway speeds, hybrids are essentially gasoline powered.

    And, yet, the new Camry Hybrid regularly posted fuel economy ratings of 6.0 L/100 km at a steady 120 km/h and barely more than seven while cruising at 130. Eagle-eyed readers with long memories will note that those numbers still trail a diesel-powered Passat by a tick, but the diesel’s normal long-haul advantage is much reduced, enough that my normal admonition that long-distance commuters should always opt for oil burners is no longer necessarily true.

    The Camry Hybrid, for instance, regularly racked up more than 850 km from its 64-litre tank before needing refuelling. Indeed, more intrepidly light-footed testers than I achieved an amazing 5.0-L/100-km average, extending that range even further.
    What’s perhaps more surprising is that there’s been no radical rejigging of the hybrid’s inner workings. Most of the tricks improving the highway fuel economy are garden-variety internal-combustion upgrades. The intake and exhaust manifold plumbing has been improved, there’s lighter-weight oil in the crankcase (for reduced drag) and the engine is beltless, i.e., the air conditioning system, power steering, et al are powered electrically rather than via a serpentine (and drag-inducing) belt off the motor. And Toyota has also resorted to the oldest trick in the automotive engineering handbook — the 2012 Camry Hybrid is almost 120 kilograms lighter than the old.
    There’s no magic to the Toyota’s dramatically increased parsimony; the Camry’s 1.6-kilowatt-hour battery is still old school nickel metal hydride as opposed to the lithium ions that are all the rage in electric cars these days. Indeed, as a dedicated skeptic, it’s hard to come to terms with Toyota’s ability to claim a whopping 39% increase in fuel economy with such simple evolutionary — not revolutionary — changes.

    The other alluring piece of the puzzle is that the new Camry Hybrid is actually enjoyable to drive. Despite that big boost in fuel economy, Toyota actually increased the displacement of the Camry’s gasoline engine to 2.5 litres from 2.4, bringing with it an increase to 156 horsepower and 156 pound-feet of torque. Combined with the Hybrid Synergy System’s electric motor, Toyota Canada claims a 200- horsepower total output. That means the Camry is now the hot rod of the hybrid set, sprinting — OK, jogging really fast — to 100 km/h in just 8.1 seconds.

    Even the Camry’s comportment has been improved. Toyota still uses one of those infernal continuously variable transmissions — they are more efficient! — that normally has small engines droning on long with the endless monotony of a funeral dirge. But thanks to the extra torque, which sees the 2.5L engine spinning slower, as well as extra sound deadening, the Camry Hybrid doesn’t start sounding busy until the throttle is matted for maximum acceleration.

    There’s also a surprise in the pricing department. My normal criticism of hybrids, as I have mentioned, is not only their paltry fuel economy gains but the relatively large price hikes all their electronics engender. Well, the new Camry flips that equation on its head as well, offering the fuel economy advantages I’ve detailed yet costing $26,990, a figure that would have barely bought you a Prius five years ago.

    Only one aspect of the new hybrid’s performance disappoints. Toyota claims that by flipping an “EV” button one can get up to two kilometres of electric-only propulsion; I never made it past the end of my block, the disappointment enough for me to suggest that Toyota should remove the switch. But the 2012 Camry Hybrid delivers where it counts: superior real- world fuel economy at an affordable price.
    Numbers don’t lie and, in my estimation, 6.6 is a very powerful number indeed.


    7:42 pm on February 24, 2012
     
  • Nice, France • The up! is a funky urban runabout that’s just hitting Volkswagen dealerships in Europe. At its launch, it will be offered as a three-door hatchback; however, a five-door derivative is to be shown at the Geneva Motor Show in March. It is part utility vehicle and part passenger car, but it is all about function and choice — there’s Take up!, Move up! and, of course, the loaded High up!, along with the up! Black and the up! White, the car tested.

    At just more than 3.5 metres long, it qualifies as a compact, but there’s a surprising amount of room — enough that a cowboy can keep his 10-gallon hat on without making friends with the headliner. True, there’s not much rear-seat leg space if the front seats are fully rearward, and getting back there does require agility, but for a family of four or five, it works very nicely.

    The utility side is found in the car’s  cargo-carrying capacity. With the 60/40-split/folding-rear seat upright, it makes light work of 8.7 cubic feet of stuff, and it includes a hard privacy cover, which keeps prying eyes off any valuables stored back there. Folding the seats down opens up a generous 33.6 cu. ft. The fact the space is nicely squared off and the vertical hatch is wide and cut to bumper level makes filling it up an easy proposition.

    Up front, the function continues. The cabin itself is very nicely finished. Yes, there is a lot of hard plastic, but it is nicely textured and it is butted together with the sort of precision one expects of a more expensive ride. The cloth front buckets are comfortable and the driving position is very good, as are the sight lines to the side and rear. Beyond that, there are some clever ideas. The portable navigation system, for example, not only gives directions with a marble-mouth British accent, it also houses a detailed trip computer and it allows the driver to display oil and coolant gauges, pair a cellular phone and access the audio system via the touchscreen or by telling the system what to do.

    When it comes to the engine, the up! features a diminutive 1.0-litre three-cylinder motor that puts forth 75 horsepower and 70 pound-feet of torque. As they appear on paper, the numbers seem awfully underwhelming. A stopwatch backs that impression up! — zero-to-100-kilometres-an-hour runs take 13.2 seconds, which is verging on calendar-like. The up!-side, however, is that it feels so much more responsive and peppy. In fact, the only time the up! felt as though it could do with more motivation was when climbing some of the steeper hills north of here.

    If there is a knock, it is the same as all engines with an odd number of cylinders — the engine note, especially as the tachometer sweeps toward redline, is rather coarse and grumbly. At first, it really did bother me. However, time behind the wheel saw the aggravation factor fade into the background. That stated, if the up! is going to make the trip across the Pond, it should arrive with a four-banger. It would add a little more top-end performance and eliminate the engine’s plaintive tone.

    Much of the credit for the up!’s  surprising peppiness has to do with the five-speed manual gearbox — the only transmission offered at this point. The throws are short, the clutch is light and the ratios squeeze the best out of the engine. The first four gears focus on acceleration, while fifth brings excellent fuel economy. The up! has an average fuel economy rating (based on the European test cycle) of 4.7 litres per 100 km. That is as good as many hybrids.

    The up!’s ride and handling are also very good. The ride is comfortable and the handling is competent. The steering is also nicely weighted steering. When pushed down some pretty twisty blacktop, the up! stuck to the driver’s intended line without the sort of understeering characteristic I was anticipating.

    The up! also shines when navigating the tight confines of a European city. It’s biggest asset is the extraordinarily tight turning circle. At one point, I was heading down a back alley that was getting ever narrower. Right about the time I was beginning to regret following the navigation system’s suggestion for a shortcut, the road opened to about the width of a regular lane — the up! was turned around in a heartbeat.

    What the up! has going for it is a cute look, surprising utility and a great deal of refinement, all of which would seem to make it a no-brainer for Canada. Sadly, the up! is not likely to land here in the foreseeable future. It all has to do with price and the fact it is built in Europe.

    Ideally, for the up! to succeed here it needs to start at a loonie under $14,000. That, as it stands, is a tall order. However, an optimist might point to the fact that Fiat is managing to push 500s out the door for silly money. I would take an up! over a 500 any day.


    2:00 pm on January 27, 2012
     
  • Listening to the radio the other day drove home just how little is known about the Chevrolet Volt. The commentator, in an off-script moment, was lamenting the fact that electric vehicles such as the Nissan Leaf and Chevy Volt do not have the driving range demanded by the vast majority of commuters.

    While this is true of pure electric cars (most max out at 160 kilometres on a good day), it is positively wrong when it comes to the Volt. Its advanced powertrain has the ability to motivate it for up to 600 km. How can that give anyone range anxiety?

    The Volt is the first of what promises to be a slew of extended-range electric cars and, make no mistake, it is an electric vehicle as the electric motor does 100% of the driving. In simple terms, after charging the main 16-kWh lithium ion battery, the Volt purrs along using this power source for the first 45 km (Chevrolet says 60-plus km, but the reality is that cold weather takes its toll). From here on, the Volt relies on its 63-horsepower 1.4-litre four-cylinder gas engine. It drives a generator. In principle, it is much the same as diesel/electric locomotives — there is no connection whatsoever between the engine and drive wheels.

    Furthering the economy/driving range cause is a buffer that’s contained in the main battery. This is used to store the electrical energy captured through regenerative braking and the excess power developed by the generator. It is this extension that allows the Volt to pull away electrically, and run to 50-plus km/h, even when the instrumentation says there’s zero kilometres of driving range left.

    That’s the techy overview — the manner in which the Volt operates is far simpler.

    Push the start button and a high-tech sound signals you are ready to go. Get on the accelerator and the Volt pulls off the line surprising crisply. I say surprising because the numbers at play are not exactly standouts — the electric motor produces just 150 horsepower, which is not much for a car that weighs 1,715 kilograms. The secret lies in the torque — the electric motor twists out 273 pound-feet from Rev One. The combination delivers a 9.8-second run to 100 km/h and an 80-to-120-km/h passing time of 7.4 seconds.

    THE SPECS

    Type of vehicle Front-wheel-drive mid-sized hatchback
    Drivetrain Lithium ion battery, electric motor and 1.4L four-cylinder
    Power 150 hp; 273 lb-ft of torque @ 1 rpm
    Brakes Four-wheel disc with ABS
    Tires P215/55R17 (optional winters)
    Price: base/as tested $41,545/$44,135
    Destination charge $1,495
    Combined electricity/gasoline fuel economy L/100 km 3.9

    After driving to Detroit and back, a highway-based round trip of 700 km, I had averaged 5.9 L/100 km. At first blush, that’s not overly impressive. However, another 30 km in the city, where the battery and buffer pay the biggest dividend, and the end result was a 1,000-km average of 4.1 L/100 km. True, this does not take into account the cost of recharging the battery, but it is, nonetheless, the lowest average fuel economy I have ever recorded.

    As for the rest of it, the Volt is near normal — there is seating for five and 10.6 cubic feet of cargo space beneath the hatchback. Where the Volt differs is that basically all functions are controlled by touch. The white-faced centre stack is iPad-like in that one simply touches an icon to access that feature. The seven-inch screen at the top of the stack functions in the same manner. The instrumentation is equally out there — to the left of the speedometer is a ball wrapped in leaves. Balance the ball at the mid-point of the scale and you are attaining the best economy. Accelerate and the ball drops, loses its leaves and changes colour and it does the opposite during regenerative braking. In the end, keeping the ball all leafy became like playing Angry Birds — it is addictive, but it’s a good thing in this instance.

    Dynamically, the Volt is equally balanced. The suspension is comfortable without allowing too much body roll, the steering delivers decent feedback and the brake pedal has some semblance of feel — it is still mushy when compared with a conventional pedal, but given the regenerative side, it proved to be remarkably easy to modulate.

    One of the problems with electric cars is the fact they are near silent in operation, which invariably means sneaking up on an unsuspecting pedestrian. Of course, one could use the horn, risk surprising said pedestrian and being told you are Number One. The Volt has a solution — pushing a button on the end of the left-side steering column stalk elicits a discreet three-note “look out” warning.

    However, not all is perfect. If you want to maximize the driving range/fuel mileage, you must select the climate control’s economy setting. As long as the outside temperature is above 10C it works — the strategy relies on the optional heated seats to keep the occupants cozy. Below that temperature, your buns toast, but your toes freeze. This mandates using the less efficient comfort setting.

    Second, the charge time without a 240-volt outlet is long — 12 hours using 110 volts. The other hitch is the rear window. It not only needs a wiper because of its very lazy lie, it splits the rearward view in two. Thankfully, there is a backup camera — a $795 option!

    The Chevrolet Volt is, arguably, the most sophisticated car on the road at the moment — it is clean, efficient and the manner in which it uses its electric/gas combination to eliminate range anxiety represents the near-term solution to the electrification of the automobile. The fact the Volt drives like a normal car is its other endearing trait.


    9:00 am on January 27, 2012
     
  • First the good news: Porsche’s new Panamera Hybrid gets excellent fuel economy, especially for a car that weighs more than two tons, is the size of a small luxury liner and purports to be sporty. My overall fuel consumption after more than 1,000 kilometres of mixed city and urban driving was 10 litres per 100 kilometres.

    Even more impressive was the digital fuel economy meter’s readout of 8.0 L/100 km while I had the cruise control set to 130 klicks on the way between Toronto and Ottawa. That’s not quite the 6.8 L/100 km for which Transport Canada rates the Hybrid, but it’s mighty impressive nonetheless and enough to make anyone, even a cynic (that would be, yet again, me), acknowledge that there is some substance to this hybrid stuff.
    The bad news is that I have no idea how I did it.

    Porsche’s version of hybridization is of the parallel variety. There’s an electric motor sandwiched between the engine and transmission, but it can be decoupled from the V6. At least, according to the Panamera’s gauge set, it seems to have little effect; the little histographic readout of gasoline versus electric engine usage, common to all hybrids, shows precious little EV contribution during normal driving. Oh, you can feel the electric motor kick in when you’re pulling away from a full stop and the display says there’s a little extra kick in the pants at full throttle when the kickdown button invigorates the electric motor again, but in most other circumstances, if that little histogram is to be believed, the electric motor doesn’t seem very
    active.

    And Porsche’s claim that the hybrid Panamera can get up to almost 60 kilometres an hour on electric power alone seems like absolute hogwash. The big four-door Porsche will indeed pull away silently using electric power alone, but even my most sensitive touch — usually reserved for the handling of newborn babies and, er, delicate situations — was never enough to get much above 10 klicks before the Panamera’s 3.0-litre gasoline engine started up. And while having the electric motor kick in at full throttle does help the supercharged V6 feel a little more V8-like, it doesn’t help gas mileage.

    The stellar highway economy seems especially baffling. At 130 km/h, the Panamera is essentially running on the motivation supplied by the 333-horsepower 3.0L V6. This is exactly the same motor as drives Audi’s A7, a car almost as large as the Panamera. Yet the Audi did not achieve anywhere near the Porsche’s frugality on the exact same drive. Was I so profligate in the way I drove the A7? Was it because the lesser traffic on the 401 allowed me to rely on the cruise control more? Or is the Panamera’s electric motor making a contribution that its EV display is not showing? I have no idea. All I can say is that the Panamera Hybrid achieved surprisingly good fuel economy under my normally profligate right foot. Even if I am not quite sure why, that’s still high praise indeed.

    There are a few clues, however. One of the most noticeable aspects of the Porsche’s operation is how often the gasoline engine shuts down. Like most hybrids, the Panamera stops internally combusting at stoplights, shutting down the gas engine. But the Panamera takes it a step further, shutting down the engine as soon as you take your foot off the gas. You don’t have to apply the (regenerative) brakes; as soon as you release the gas pedal, the engine shuts down. That means you coast all the way to stoplights. Similarly, the engine shuts down on long hills on the highway. Whether that’s enough to generate such fuel economy gains, I simply don’t know (and I am not going to trust Porsche’s engineers with the question because they, like all automotive propellor heads, make all manner of expansive claims for their technology). On the other hand, the little screen that displays EV operation also has a readout that displays engine-off or “sailing” mode and you’d be surprised at how much time the Porsche spends with its V6 completely inert.

    As for the contention I’ve read from other autojournalists that the combination of electric motor and supercharged V6 effectively emulates Porsche’s V8, I’m a little more skeptical. To be sure, the electric motor’s low-speed torque makes initial acceleration quite entertaining and the Hybrid’s initial jump off the line is quite impressive. Porsche claims it is but 0.6 seconds slower (six seconds in all) than the V8 to 100 kilometres an hour, mighty impressive indeed for something that weighs 1,984 kilograms.

    Full throttle passing, however, isn’t quite as impressive. Porsche claims a total of 380 horses for the Hybrid. With the gas engine contributing 333 of those ponies, that means the electric motor adds 47 more when you mat the throttle deep enough. I didn’t feel it. The Hybrid is plenty powerful. It’s amazingly frugal. But it doesn’t feel as sporting as the Panamera V8. That it weighs some 184 kg more than the V8 surely contributes to its (only) relative lethargy.

    The major problem facing widespread sales of the Hybrid, however, is that its admittedly impressive fuel economy comes at a steep price. A base Hybrid retails for $108,700, $22,100 more than a base V6 (albeit with admittedly less power) and $5,500 more than even the base V8. My test unit’s manufacturer’s  retail price soared to more than $127,000 with options (speaking of which, charging $3,590 for a metallic paint job is just criminal). That would get you a well-appointed Panamera 4S with 430 hp of V8 goodness and all-wheel drive. And, if Porsche Canada ever decides to import the diesel version of its four-door, it will almost certainly be cheaper while being almost as frugal.

    Nonetheless, Porsche’s Hybrid did exactly what it was supposed to do — deliver superior fuel economy — a fact not diminished simply because I’m not exactly sure why it did it.


    9:00 am on December 22, 2011
     
  • The romantic view of engineering — if indeed there can be such a thing as a romantic view of engineering — is of the brilliant egghead toiling tirelessly in a lonely laboratory, the singularity of his or her genius conjuring up novel and unique ways to make his or her ever-evolving widget better. And, indeed, at the beginning of any engineering revolution, be it the first metal sword, the first airplane or the cars that are the subject matter of this column, the engineering world is full of ill-conceived contraptions as the adventurous but often misguided struggle to illuminate what is, at the beginning of any development cycle, a very long and dark tunnel.

    Of course, if this is a soap opera, the script has to devolve into the romantic notion that (pardon my Ayn Rand) the purity of the singular genius is continually being thwarted by an evil collective. Thus, Charles Nelson Pogue’s infamous 100-miles-per-gallon carburetor was quashed by the might of the oil companies, Ferry Porsche’s iconic 911 has been supplanted by Cayennes and Panameras thanks to a committee of share-price-obsessed bureaucrats, and automobile design has become stodgily homogeneous because the large automakers are all in cahoots.

    In reality, the homogeneity that purists so despise in modern automobile design is just the historical cycle of engineering development. At the birth of any technology, there are no rules, no guidelines and few expectations. Since whatever our mad genius is slaving over has not been done before, he or she can’t look back on previous developments, her or his drawing board literally the proverbial clean slate.

    Of course, those same scientists, if they are at all competent, quickly dismiss failure. Engineers are nothing but clever backyard inventors who simply keep on trying different widgets until one doesn’t explode. (Thomas Edison is said to have tested thousands of potential fibrils before “cottoning” — almost by mistake — on to the carbonized bamboo filament that became the first successful light bulb.) The more brilliant — and, one presumes, successful — of minds quickly rejects the cockamamie and hones in on the probable. Throw in 100 years of failure, the processing power of supercomputers to weed out the improbable as well as constant refinement and what one gets in the “mature” phase of engineering is a general consensus on what works and what doesn’t. Compare any current technology — be it airplanes, automobiles or even the relatively new world of computers — to the same products in their infancy and you will find an incredible sameness to the modern as countless engineers rejected the mistakes of the past and converged on consensus.

    The perfect automotive example of this evolutionary conformity is the recent introduction by BMW and Mercedes-Benz of small turbocharged fours in their entry-level luxury sedans. Once an idea singularly championed by Audi with its 1.8 and 2.0T fours, both BMW (in the X1, 328 and now 528) and Mercedes (C250) have abandoned their classic engine designs — normally aspirated in-line and vee sixes, respectively — for these same small turbocharged 1.8- and 2.0-litre engines.

    The reason for this conformity is simple and essentially the same whenever any previously diverse product range becomes homogenized: The criteria set before the engineers became increasingly specific. In the case, for instance, of the 3 Series, C-Class and A4, all faced the same challenge — retain their previous powerful performance while meeting new, very specific fuel economy standards all without complicated and expensive hybrid or diesel technology. The key word in the previous sentence is “specific.” Chances are that, had all the manufacturers simply been challenged to achieve the best possible fuel economy for real-world conditions, their solutions might not have been so uniform. Each might have accessed its customer’s needs differently and come up with a different design.

    But the fuel economy criteria that these engines were designed to meet are far more precise. Regulations governing fuel economy, it must be noted, are precisely defined test cycles that favour engines economical under light load conditions (low throttle openings at relatively low speeds), a forte of turbocharged engines. Whether these engines might actually improve real-world fuel economy appears to be incidental — or, at least, a secondary criterion. A cynic might even postulate that, like American high school curriculums, these new designs weren’t actually designed to improve the breed but rather pass some very specific tests.

    And I think we can expect many more of these turbocharger-based solutions from our German friends. BMW is already in the process of dumping all its signature high-revving naturally aspirated engines from its M cars in favour of equally powerful but more EPA- and Transport Canada-friendly turbocharged variants. Audi already uses relatively small-displacement supercharged engines for its S-line and Mercedes has already started reducing the displacement of some its AMG models and slapping turbochargers under the hood.

    That all three German luxury marques — Mercedes-Benz, BMW and Audi — have converged on exactly the same solution is simply the result of very specific requirements demanding a very specific solution. French philosopher François de La Rochefoucauld famously proclaimed that hypocrisy was vice’s tribute to virtue. Had Monsieur de la Rochefoucauld been an engineer instead of an autodidact, he might have instead noted that conformity is the price engineering pays for evolution.


    9:00 am on December 16, 2011