Super Cool Auto Blog

After finally getting myself situated in the back of the Boeing, I notice the lady to my left wearing a Tesla fleece. As fate, the alignment of the stars and unbridled dumb luck would have it, I was seated next to Rachel Konrad, Tesla's Senior Manager of Communications... for the next 10 hours.




After exchanging pleasantries, discussing each other's plans for the Frankfurt Motor Show and getting acquainted, the topic of conversation naturally turned to cars, and the Tesla Roadster, in particular.

"It's not just about performance," an overly animated Konrad told me. "What journalists don't understand is how functional it is. Owners forget to clean their windshield because they never have to go to the gas station!"

Okay, sure. But if you're selling a vehicle that starts at $109,000, you're interested in more than avoiding dirty hands at the pump. You want the full sports car monty. Power, poise, engagement, the lot. And a bit of green cred to boot surely doesn't hurt.

So after several hours of discussion, I finally say, "Hand it over to us for a week. We'll give it a proper review on its day-to-day livability. No track tests. No slalom speeds. No smoky burnouts. Just a comprehensive assessment of functionality."

A handful of phone calls and dozens of emails later, I arrive at Tesla's flagship dealership in Menlo Park, CA to pick up a full-kitted 2010 Tesla Roadster Sport. After a tutorial on the charging procedure, the internal computer and signing my life away, I was off. The Roadster was mine for the next five days, so I promptly pulled off into a bus stop, set a destination for the coast, disabled the traction control and laid a set of elevens down the street from the dealership.

Ladies and gentlemen, it pays to fly coach.
Trip One – Fully Charged – Range: 187 miles

The plan for the first day was to mimic a typical weekend jaunt – a two-seat sports car's raison d'être – involving lunch on the coast, a stop in San Francisco and then a run to my flat in Fremont before heading to a house in Tracy where I'd be parking and charging the Tesla for the week (no garage means no 220-volt outlet).

Total trip: 135 miles.

After fiddling with the JVC-supplied navigation system, the first stop was Sam's Chowder House north of Half Moon Bay. The initial leg was a simple 25-mile combination of surface streets, freeways and backroads terminating at Highway 1 and providing the perfect opportunity to get acquainted with the Roadster's recently revised interior.



When Franz von Holzhausen left Mazda to join the Tesla team, one of his first orders of business was to give the inside of the Roadster a makeover. He's succeeded with an interior that finally looks like a finished product (including a glovebox!), striking a balance between sparse and upscale with carbon fiber trim and leather "Executive" appointments.

Unlike the prototype we drove two years ago, the two-stage transmission lever has been replaced by an aluminum center console with backlit buttons for Park, Reverse, Neutral and Drive. Just below is a slot for an iPod, with Apple's proprietary connector protruding from the bottom and a rubber backing to prevent the MP3 player from sliding around – a nice, functional touch.

Below that, the traction control switch is simply either on or off (huzzah!) and the two-stage seat heaters proved invaluable when we finally made it to a chilly, fog-ensconced coast.



Although the JVC stereo looks as out of place as any other aftermarket head-unit, it just works (however inelegantly) and doesn't detract from the incredibly cool display that's migrated from its previous position to the left of the driver's knee to above the center console. The screen displays every facet of information about the Roadster, from ideal to operating range, charge status, maintenance information and performance stats. It's both simple to operate and pure geeketry, but the majority of the time it was kept on the battery display.

After enjoying some of Sam's finest (New England-style, natch) and performing an effortless five-car pass on PCH, I headed north in search of a peculiar San Francisco treat. No, not Rice-A-Roni, but the illustrious infamous maple bacon latte served by up the Pirate Cat Radio cafe. Seriously, don't judge.

Scoring a spot down the street from the low-power radio station/coffee house, I enjoyed the oddly satisfying (and predictably stomach burbling) concoction before setting out on the second-to-last leg. I got back to the topless Tesla to find a pair of ten-year-olds peering over the windows and leaning on the front bumper as their mother took a few hundred cameraphone snaps of the kiddies. Yes, the "Very Orange" exterior is just that and perhaps a tad too extroverted for a vehicle that makes nearly no noise. I slotted the key into column, twisted, heard the reassuring chime and pulled away in near silence to both kids' amusement and apparent confusion.



With just over 100 miles left on the charge, I quietly trundled my way around The City to find a few streets I knew would test the Tesla's suspension. It didn't take long to land on a particularly neglected one-way road that sent jolts through the steering wheel and ten-way adjustable suspension. Having driven a handful of Lotus Elise and Exiges in similar conditions, unsurprisingly, the Tesla felt nearly the same – easily livable, yet slightly jarring, complete with a few squeaks and rattles from the interior when cold.

When I finally made it to the Bay Bridge, the battery indicator provided a bit of a shock (no pun, promise). I had 92 miles left on the charge and 86 miles to cover, including a bout through the Bay Area's notorious late afternoon traffic. The first pangs of range anxiety had finally set in.

By the time I made it to Fremont after enduring some start-and-stop traffic on 880, the charge was down to 52 miles. The trip to Tracy: a Google-estimated 43.6 miles. Close, but doable.



Packed up – including a 70-pound dog in the passenger seat – we headed out and I stupidly didn't fit the canvas roof buried in the trunk. As the sun went down, the temperature dropped in conjunction with the range, the battery readout changed from green to red, and a light on the dash indicating power was reduced.

In an effort to conserve the remaining juice (15 miles by the time I reached Altamont Pass), I shut off the seat warmers and heater, threw a beanie on and apologized to the dog. With visions of the puppy and I shivering on the side of the freeway awaiting a tow, I shifted into maximum conservation mode and 20 minutes later – with three miles left on the charge – we rolled into the garage, hooked up the three-prong, 220-volt cable to the dryer outlet, inserted the other end into the Roadster and with a twist and a snap the surrounding bezel glowed green, then blue, to indicate juice was flowing. The dog scowled in my general direction and then promptly passed out in front of the space heater.


Trips Two and Two-Point-Five – Fully Charged – Range: 185 miles

Despite Tesla's initial claim of a 250-mile charge on the battery, the upstart automaker has changed its tune to "over 200 miles." So why haven't we broken the that mark after a full six-hour charge? A combination of factors. First, we mistakenly only charged in either "Standard" or "Performance" mode during our five-day stint. If we had set it to Range, we've been assured by Tesla that we would have seen the range extend passed 200 miles. Secondly, one of Tesla's engineers disclosed that our Sport model – like all press fleet vehicles – has lived a rough life over the last year and it's taken its toll on the battery. Your mileage – literally – will vary. Oh, and if you're without a 220-volt outlet, Tesla supplies a normal 110-volt cable that works on any standard three-prong outlet. However, despite what simple math might indicate (half of 220 means a 12-hour charge?), the 110-volt cable can only transfer five miles for each hour of charging time. Translation: Over 40 hours to top off on a normal wall outlet. Disconcerting, but hardly a dealbreaker for Teslaphiles.



So after one sphincter-puckering test of the Tesla's range, the next two days were taken relatively easy. Most of the trips were composed of short jaunts around town – anywhere between five and 30 miles – along with a 104-mile round-trip to Oakland and a photo session on the outskirts of the city. As you'd expect, this is where the Tesla shines. Simply head out, do what needs doing and plug in when you get back. It's an easy set-it-and-forget-it affair, and while it's not on the feature list, a trip to Home Depot for 50-feet of plastic fencing and two dozen wooden stakes fits in the trunk... and the front seat... with your Mom holding them.


Trip Three – 90% Charged – Range: 176 miles

With daily livability off the checklist, the final night with the Roadster meant that a proper flogging was in order. After the aforementioned trip to Oakland, I set the Sport to charge for a few hours and then headed out on a late-night backroad bombing through the hills that separate the Valley from the (far) East Bay. After all, this is a sports car, and according to Tesla's Konrad, the ideal Roadster owner is someone who's just fitted solar panels to their roof and is about to trade in their Porsche 911 Turbo. So then...

The sub-40-mile roundabout run through the Altamont is the macadam playground of my youth, a combination of expansive straights and tight turns that still serves as my de facto test loop to this day. And one stretch, in particular, is strikingly apropos: Tesla Road.




By fiddling with the car's firmware, fitting a more efficient motor and hand-wound stator, the revised Roadster puts out 288 horsepower and 295 pound-feet of torque, the latter – and this can't be repeated enough – available at zero rpm. The tweaks drops two-tenths of a second from the standard Roadster's 0-60 time (3.7 versus 3.9 seconds), but the initial acceleration isn't what impresses the most. Passing isn't point-and-squirt, it's teleportation. Need to squeeze into the slot between the Cadillac Escalade and the (in comparison, low-tech) Toyota Prius? Before you can think it, you're there. Mid-range torque is so plentiful that when it finally begins to drop off a few ticks past 5,000 rpm, it doesn't matter. You're already where you need to be, hunting for another slot in traffic as the whir from the electric motor at your waist is quickly overcome by a combination of wind and road noise.

With the computer set to Performance (not the Max Range mode I'd used thus far), I was completely convinced of the Roadster's pavement pummeling chops. Although you're always acutely aware of the amount of weight behind your back (the battery comes in around 900 pounds and is mounted directly against the firewall), it strikes a balance between the rearward grip of a 911 and the edgy tactility of a mid-engine sports car.

While trundling around town, the regenerative brakes takes some getting used to, but once acclimated, they became one of my favorite features, providing a startling amount of "engine braking" without having to employ the AP Racing stoppers. Out of town and into the twisties, the system's abilities are magnified to good effect and the brakes, like the sublime unassisted steering, remain wonderfully pure to their Lotus roots.



Halfway up the mountain, the radius of the bends decreases in opposite proportion to the drop-offs, but despite a predilection for bacon-saving, I disable the traction control and things get even more interesting. For your average hack (yours truly), understeer at the limit is the order of the day, but with a little coaxing and a drop of the throttle (throttle?) the rear skips sideways as the front end aims for the apex.

A sweeping left-right-left-right combination at the top of the hill makes the Roadster's rear weight bias even more pronounced, but easily manageable. And then I notice an amber light on the dash. "Fault." Followed by the "Power Reduced" indicator.

The power gauge on the right won't swing passed 100 kW as I pull off at the next turnout to give it rest. After scribbling a few thoughts in my notebook and restarting the Roadster, all is back to normal – for another five miles. The same combination of "Fault" and "Power Reduced" appears on the dash and repeats two more times before I finally pull into the lot that marks the end of my run. Needless to say, I'm disappointed, yet after speaking with the crew at Tesla, they assure me that it was a momentary issue with the motor and a rare occurrence. Chalk it up to a well-worn tester. Regardless, it was a disheartening end to an otherwise spectacular experience, and when I finally return to the garage, the late-night assault proves that just like a traditional sports car with an internal combustion engine, fuel efficiency is scarified at the altar of speed. When I left, the display read 176 miles. When I plugged in: 63 miles. Actual miles traveled: 28.


Trip Four – Fully Charged – Range 184 miles

The trek back to Tesla was an easy 63-mile jaunt; the final test of its livability and prime reflection time. Just like the vehicle on which it's based, the Roadster Sport is an exercise in compromise. The interior is sparse, the cargo capacity minimal, at best. But as a means of daily transportation, with the – let's face it – rare stoplight drag and odd day-long journey, the Roadster is easily on par with similarly priced performance offerings. And even with my singular bout of range anxiety, the appeal continued to grow.

As a longtime Elise-lover, I could count down the days when the depreciation demons take their toll and the Tesla Roadster finds its way into the Lavrinc stable, but how long could that take? The short answer: A while.



Tack on the Sport package and you're looking at an additional $19,500 on top of the $109,000 base price. Add the carbon fiber exterior bits (totaling $14,000?!), premium paint, electronics package and Executive interior and the as-tested price swells to $155,850. Clearly, Tesla is taking cues from the Germans. But to simply crunch the numbers and calculate the payments is to completely miss the point.

The Roadster is a rolling proclamation that defines you as a futurist. It's not a toy, but it's a geek's plaything. It's not a track tool, but it's capable of unparalleled performance. The same could be said for a countless number of past, current and future exotics. And above all else, it works, something that can't be said for many erstwhile supercar upstarts. Factor in the (near) zero-emissions thing and the total tally for juice (around $40.00 for the week, maybe less if I was on a different power plan) and the Roadster rises above the hype to solidify its place as a proper sports car. Could it be lighter? Certainly. Could it be cheaper? Most definitely. But today, in this world, in this climate, it stands in a segment of one. That makes it something to aspire to. And aspire I will.

Toyota has made some serious money over the past couple of decades by making safe, reliable vehicles. There have been a few models, like the Supra and Celica, that have appealed to the enthusiast, but the rest of America hasn't really seemed to care. New Toyota chief Akio Toyoda has promised to change that paradigm, however, pledging to inject new vehicles with much-needed soul. But do we have to wait a few years for Toyota's designers and engineers to come up with something new and exciting? Maybe not.



While the enthusiast-inspired products like the FT-86 coupe are still a ways off, off-roading types have a new Toyota to test drive: the 2010 4Runner. We've long known that the 4Runner has been perfectly capable of wrestling with a bit of mud, as it helped define America's sport-utility genre along with the original Jeep Cherokee way back in 1984. But this new model is at once bigger, more capable and more luxurious – and its styling has been designed to stand out in an admittedly thinning crowd of proper SUVs. We spent a week with a Magnetic Grey Metallic 4WD SR5 to see if Toyota has been right to stand by its mid-size mainstay while the rest of the automaking world has been busy turning its body-on-frame gas-guzzlers into pump-friendly softroaders.
Looking at our $37,649 tester from the outside, it's abundantly clear that Toyota has zigged when the rest of the world's utility vehicles have up and zagged. Our naked eye tells us the 4Runner is a cross between a GMC Terrain and Sloth from the movie Goonies. That's a nice way of saying that we find the 4Runner a bit hard to look at. Its flat nose, square-rigged proportions and bold side moldings won't win any beauty contests, but after a few days, its "more is more" look began to wear on us, if only a bit. One trait we just couldn't get used to are the bulging headlights and taillights that protrude from the sheetmetal by a good two inches. We're thinking there isn't a huge market for taillights that appear to have an inoperable growth jutting out to the sides.

The 4Runner's exterior definitely makes a bold statement, and that theme has been deftly carried over to the interior. Toyota has continued the big and bold theme inside the cabin, with oversized seats, a wonderful Delmonico-inspired steering wheel and a shift lever that could double as the barrel of a Louisville Slugger. Even the knobs are over an inch in diameter. The wide, squared-off center stack very efficiently packs in all the 4Runner's supersized buttons and switchgear, and ergonomics are surprisingly good. The 4Runner's overall length, at 189 inches, is three inches shorter than the Nissan Pathfinder, but the 4Runner is a far more useful 2.4 inches wider. That means more shoulder and hip room for passengers, more presence in traffic, and perhaps most importantly, more stability.



We liked the 4Runner's comfortable leather seats, commanding view of the road and roomy dimensions, but there were a few notable problems within this Toyota's cabin. First, one of the most amusing buttons we've ever seen in any vehicle appeared in our tester: the "Party Mode" button. Sadly, Ryan Seacrest's short and suited self doesn't pop out whenever we pressed it. Instead, the sound system's music goes from clean to heavy on the bass and over-modulated. The stereo doesn't actually sound that bad in "Party Mode," but we're not sure why Toyota has elected to place the button a foot away from the headunit and behind that massive steering wheel we told you about. We didn't see the button for the first four days behind the wheel and may never have stumbled across it if one of our other editors didn't alert us to its existence.

Interior quality is also a bit uneven, as the 4Runner's dash plastic is unyielding, and touchpoints at the door and center armrest are surprisingly harsh and rubbery. We understand (but don't like) the use of hard plastics on a meat-and-potatoes SUV dashboard, but touchpoints deserve a bit more love. An even bigger problem presented itself in the form of our tester's third row seat, which is a $3,570 option that included leather seating surfaces and third row curtain airbags.




Since the 4Runner has a body-on-frame architecture, when the third row seat is folded, the load floor actually sits a few inches higher than in the standard five-seat model. The fully collapsed seats don't exactly stow completely flat, either, and the slight downward pitch of the floor makes it next to impossible to throw groceries in the boot without something flying out when the tailgate is opened. There is no convenient way to access that third row when it's needed, either. We found that we had to unfold the third row split-bench from the second row, which certainly isn't the most user-friendly way to access additional seating.

But while the interior wasn't exactly up to snuff, there were some considerable surprises once we got behind the wheel. The first area of delight came courtesy of Toyota's 4.0-liter V6 engine. This writer just finished a week in a Tacoma with the same displacement V6, and we came away from that tester wanting far more power. The six-pot beneath the hood of the 4Runner is a different beast altogether, with dual independent variable valve timing helping to achieve 270 horsepower at 5600 rpm and 278 pound-feet of torque at 4400 rpm. The extra horsepower (up from 236 ponies in the Tacoma) makes the 4,700 pound 4Runner feel surprisingly fleet-footed, and Toyota claims an impressive 0-60 mph time of 7.1 seconds. Perhaps more surprising than the 4Runner's perkiness is the impressive 19.5 miles per gallon we managed during a week of mixed driving (EPA figures: 18 mpg city/23 mpg highway). Not bad for a two-ton SUV with a five-speed transmission and large-displacement V6.



Our tester also proved to be very comfortable on the highway and around town, with the V6 providing reliable power and the chassis remaining well-controlled. Steering is a bit numb and could use a bit more heft when tooling around town, but it's about what you'd expect in an off-road capable SUV. It's true that the 4Runner's ride quality tends to get a bit bouncy when encountering less-than-ideal roads, but that's largely to be expected in a steel-spring off-roader like this.

The SR5 also has a not-so secret weapon in its very capable part-time four-wheel-drive system. On the highway, it can cruise comfortably using only the rear wheels for propulsion, but when the traction conditions turn foreboding, the driver can simply shift into Four High to keep momentum strong. When dirt turns to rock, the 4Runner can articulate over some pretty formidable terrain. Simply work your way into Four Low and let the 9.6-inch ground clearance, 25-degree approach angle and 24-degree departure angle work to your advantage. Toyota also has an even more rugged option in the form of a Trail package that includes a terrain response system, a locking rear differential, and skid plates for still more off-roading ability.



We rarely find ourselves short on fun when we're off the beaten path, and here the 4Runner revealed itself to be a very capable partner. Substantial P265/70SR17 tires and above average wheel travel made most pits feel like small potholes, and the 4WD system proved to be very difficult to overwhelm. One problem we encountered was that it was fairly difficult to switch the 4Runner's floor-mounted 4WD system shifter into 4WD High and Low. We got better with a bit of practice, though we'd much prefer a simple button or switch that interfaces with the 4WD system.

The Toyota 4Runner may be every bit as safe and reliable as Toyota models of the past, but it also has a bit of attitude in its design and capability, and that's a good thing. And with the Chevrolet Trailblazer gone and the Ford Explorer and Dodge Durango about to reinvent themselves as crossovers, the 4Runner has very little competition in a segment that just a decade ago surpassed well over one million units per year. In the end, customers will have to decide if they really do want to go off-road every now and again. The genre's sales may be dwindling, but with the 4Runner's history spanning a quarter of a century and 1.5 million units sold over four generations, we're guessing that Toyota will find enough loyalists who still think a bit of grit under their fingernails – and tires – is an attractive thing.
source by autoblog

When car buyers think of hybrids, the name that most often springs to mind is the Toyota Prius since it was the first really practical hybrid to come to market and has sold more than any other examples. Yes, of course, the original Honda Insight beat the Prius to market in the U.S. by about six months, but the tiny two-seater sold in equally tiny numbers and had limited appeal beyond hard core hyper milers.



In the coming weeks, Toyota dealers will start getting their first allotments of the all-new third-generation Prius, and while we got to spend a few hours with one on the west coast in March, we just spent a whole week with the new version of this iconic Toyota. While the efficiency of the Prius has never been in dispute, like many other cars from Brand T, its appeal as a driver's car has been, to say the least, limited. For its generation three model, Toyota has not given up on minimizing fuel consumption, but it has sought to make the Prius a bit more appealing on other levels. Read on to find out if the company has succeeded.
Many of the most avid fans of the Prius have been people who view cars as nothing more than a means of conveying occupants to a destination with the least amount of fuss. Minimal fuss often means minimal involvement, as well. That typically means finding the most direct route with the fewest number of directional changes. For those operators (we hesitate to call anyone who prefers to remain uninvolved in the process a driver), the first two generations of the Prius were utterly up to the task.



However, there is a fringe group of us who actually prefer roads with some twists and turns and enjoy the challenge of carrying momentum through corners without scrubbing off speed. Doing that effectively is aided by a car that transmits information about cornering forces back through the steering wheel and doesn't feel like it will scrape its door handles at moderate speeds. This is where the previous Prius was severely lacking, falling far short of other thrifty vehicles like Honda's new Insight and VW's Jetta TDI.

Somehow, Toyota has managed to muster its prodigious resources over the last several years to create a new model to address both of these extremist camps. Under the hood, the Prius now includes the latest iteration of Hybrid Synergy Drive, which operates more efficiently than ever. The basic architecture has not changed and includes an electronically variable transmission that acts as the power split device and a pair of electric motor/generators to provide drive torque and kinetic energy recovery.



The internal combustion engine remains a four-cylinder running on the Atkinson cycle to optimize its thermodynamic efficiency. However, the displacement has grown from the previous 1.5 liters to 1.8 liters, which has dual benefits. When the driver actually needs extra power in order to merge onto a freeway or complete a passing maneuver, the propulsive force is now readily available. The extra displacement means that it's available without unduly straining the engine so the impact on fuel consumption is actually reduced.

Inside, the new floating center console features a trio of buttons to help manage the powertrain behavior, one of which was previously available only in overseas markets. For the first time, U.S. Prius buyers now have an EV button available that sometimes allows the driver to force the car into electric drive mode. Since the Prius is designed as a parallel hybrid, the electric drive portion of the vehicle has limited capabilities (although far more than most current hybrids) to drive the vehicle. Therefore, the EV mode only allows the Prius to troll around silently at speeds below 25 mph. Of course, you can get kicked out of EV mode if the battery level is too low or the accelerator is applied with too much verve. With sufficient energy in the battery and an extremely light right foot, we were regularly able to go over a mile without the engine firing up.



To the right of the EV button is the ECO button. Like the similarly labeled switch in the new Insight, this one moderates the driver's commands before sending them to the various powertrain elements. The ECO mode essentially applies a slow filter to everything, smoothing responses to avoid the sort of sudden transient reactions that cause increased fuel consumption. During our time with the Prius, even these slower reactions proved to be sufficient for almost all day-to-day driving needs. For those times when you need just a bit more get up and go such as merging onto a crowded freeway, to the right of the ECO switch sits the Power button.

This one does the opposite of the ECO switch and speeds up throttle responses. While the 134 horsepower of the new Prius certainly doesn't give it the feel of a sports car, the 24 hp boost over the previous model means that it also never really feels inadequate. The biggest dynamic complaint about the old Prius, however, was the suspension and steering. Our own limited exposure with the prior model demonstrated excessive body lean and steering more in keeping with a video game that uses a non-force feedback steering wheel. The steering in the new model no longer feels so over-boosted and has at least a semblance of feedback about the cornering forces at work. It's not great but it no longer qualifies as scary, so that's a good thing.



As for the suspension, it actually has some roll control now, and the whole car feels tighter than ever. In fact, if anything, it might be a bit too tight in terms of damping. Small road inputs (on the rare occasion that you can find such a thing in Michigan) are transmitted a bit too directly to the driver's back side. While the ride and handling balance is certainly more geared to enthusiasts than before, it could still use a bit of tweaking. The Prius still understeers at the limit like most mainstream front-wheel-drive cars, but it never feels out of control.



The interior of the Prius now has a much more modern appearance than before with the high center console sweeping down from the dash between the front seats. The shift lever has the same basic functionality as before: a pull to the left and down engaging drive and left/up bringing on reverse. The shape of the console means all the controls fall readily to hand. Like the previous generation, Toyota has opted to use some unusual textures on the plastics to replace the usual faux leather graining. Since the simulated leather is typically exaggerated anyway and really doesn't fool anyone, that's a good thing in our books.



Much of the center console has a finish that looks something like brushed metal and is actually rather attractive. The leather seats in our level IV trim model have perforations in a sine wave pattern rather than the usual grid that gives it a bit more visual interest. The front seats themselves were reasonably comfortable during our driving time and never exhibited any unusual pressure points. The rear seat was also adequate for two passengers with plenty of leg room and improved head room thanks to the re-profiled roof-line. Behind the seats, the Prius has an ample 21 cubic feet of space available to carry all your stuff.

The Prius, of course, is all about fuel economy, and the new model has received some big numbers from the EPA. With ratings of 51 mpg city, 48 mpg highway and 50 mpg combined, one would expect it to be thrifty in the real world... and it is. During our week, the Prius returned a healthy 47 mpg with a driving style that was modest but could not be described as hyper-miling. It took comparatively little effort to get some very impressive numbers.



While a Prius can be purchased for as little as $21,000 for a stripped down model, our test example came to $30,150 including the leather interior, navigation system and solar roof panel. This pricing strategy will appeal to an even wider range of buyers than before, and the lower base price should attract a few cross shoppers from the less expensive though less frugal Honda Insight.

The new Prius is no longer just an appliance for commuting. It's almost fun to drive. Toyota just needs to apply some more of its Kaizen philosophy of continual improvement to the ride and handling and we can call it good.
source by auyoblog

The small crossover segment, where the neo-sorta-trucks live, is one of the hottest battlegrounds for consumer dollars. Small skirmishes go on in the border regions; confused vehicles don't know whether to be mud-slingers with brash attitudes or optioned-up urban sophisticates. Toyota's RAV4 certainly brings sophistication, and though it can venture off road a bit, it's not a jumbled, mixed-up mess. The RAV's classification-straddling lets it serve the whims of a broad array of potential buyers.



Wanting to cover all the bases, the RAV4 can be had in a variety of configurations, from a basic front-driver with four-cylinder power up to a leather-lined, four-wheel-drive Limited with a silly-powerful V6. A Sport version seeds right in between the base and Limited, carrying a satisfying level of equipment. There's an allure to the big horsepower delivered by the six – especially when it costs as little on EPA ratings as the RAV's 3.5-liter – but these days, "adequate" is riding a wave of newfound popularity as Americans struggle to pinch more pennies. In keeping with that spirit, when it came time to test a RAV4, we decided to try life with a four-cylinder 4WD Sport.
All grown up in its third generation, the RAV4 has swelled significantly since the model launched back in the 1990s. The Highlander's newfound gigantism left room for the RAV to expand beyond its Corolla roots. The CUV's styling has shed its old stubbiness and is now far from the weird of the original. There's a strong face, a slight hint of gaping maw suggested by the trapezoidal grille, but the overall design is generally restrained and safe. Nowhere do you find a hint of cladding or overly fussy detailing, making this not-so-small small CUV a cleanly-styled contender.



The Sport trim level gets body colored fender flare appliques, as well as painted door handles, fog lamps, and sharp looking 18-inch alloy wheels. Sport badges taped to the doors are backed up by sharpened suspension reflexes; check out those blue painted struts. The Sport manages to differentiate itself from a base RAV4 the same way a Z06 looks more special than the standard Chevrolet Corvette. No version looks bad, but there's a little extra zoot to the step-up model, differences that are most noticeable when parked side by side. Unlike the Corvette, though, absolutely nobody is going to gawk at your RAV4, not even with that tumor of a spare tire on the back door.



The Sport has its own interior scheme called Dark Charcoal, which teams with the deeply tinted rear glass to lend a dour atmosphere to the interior. Lighter interior colors, like in other versions of the RAV, feel friendlier. New ground is not broken with the RAV4 inside or out, but Toyota has taken a file and rasped off any rough edges, so the execution is all but flawless. Even without the niceties of leather and oodles of tech, the RAV4's cabin sets the standard for its class. Others come close to Toyota's combination of good materials and attentive ergonomics, but the RAV4 manages to be a smidge better. Surfaces that look luxuriant are surprisingly hard to the touch, just like everyone else, and there are other spots where the plastics can easily collect scuffs. Tolerances are tighter than you'll find elsewhere, though, and the easy nature of all the controls gives the RAV4 an edge.



HVAC controls are three foolproof knobs. No fiddly rockers or digital displays here, just elegant, functional simplicity. There's no hunting around for anything in the RAV, with the exception of the miniscule fuel door release on the floor. The seats are the same story. Nothing exceptional, maybe not even the best, but when taken together with the rest of the vehicle, the whole still adds up to a sum that wins the day. Ferrying people? The second row slides and adjusts for rake, too. There's plenty of legroom for those passengers who didn't draw a long enough straw to sit up front. Child seat fitment, however, can be a little tricky if you're using the LATCH system. The top tether secures to a loop way down low on the seatback, a location that's very difficult to reach as it's blocked by the cargo organizer directly behind the seat.



If the RAV will be dragging your amazing collection of JEM paraphernalia from the 1980s, your entire stock should fit behind the rear seats. With the spare tire on the back door, lots of space is freed up. Remove the normal cargo area floor panel and you'll also find a deep well. There's even a cargo organizer at the base of the second row seatbacks. If more space is needed, folding the seats is accomplished by pulling a lever on either side of the cargo area. For really big merchandisers, the V6 RAVs can be ordered with a trailer-prep package.

The rear door, hinged at one side, is less practical and studied than we've come to expect from a star student like Toyota. Tight parking situations can sometimes make swinging the door a challenge, and the weight of an 18-inch wheel and tire bolted to the other side doesn't help matters. Surely, a full size spare is welcome when you blow a tire, but if you're parked on a hill, it can be beastly to yank open the cargo hold, and if gravity gives an assist, you could inadvertently be whisked into next week. Besides, externally mounted spares don't always allow the bumper to do the...well, bumping, so a routine slow-speed back-up oopsie can end up costing many thousands in sheetmetal and broken glass. We think the RAV4 would be better with a top-hinged hatch, but at least Toyota paid attention to the fact that people will actually want to load things into the vehicle. There's a deep cut into the rear bumper that makes liftover height reasonable, and the door has a welcome "hold-open" feature.




2009 marks the arrival of Toyota's 2AR four-cylinder in the RAV4's engine room. The AR series engine is used in the Camry, Highlander and Venza, though the larger 2.7-liter 1AZ is in the larger vehicles, leaving the 2.5-liter 2AR for the RAV and Camry. The new engine features an aluminum block with cast-in iron liners, dual balance shafts, variable valve timing on both intake and exhaust camshafts, and employs a low friction design. Other techniques like tumble control valves and newly designed fuel injectors are also employed to ensure clean, efficient running. The result of the impressive spec sheet is a 2.5-liter engine that delivers 179 horsepower and 172 lb-ft of torque while returning miles-per-gallon in the mid-20s. Even with a four-speed automatic transmission crying out for updating, the powertrain returned 25 mpg in our driving. Unfortunately for Toyota, that's not nearly efficient enough to beat newcomers like the redesigned 2010 Chevy Equinox, which is expected to achieve 32 mpg on the highway compared to this Toyota's best effort of 28 mpg.



The RAV4's transmission is a demerit, making performance feel soft when merging or passing. Once the tachometer needle swings past 4,000 rpm, the pleasantly powerful engine puts its shoulder into it and moves things along smartly. The four-cylinder RAV is not down on gumption, but it would be more pleasing and lively with either a modern automatic with more ratios, or a manual.



The sport-tuned suspension of our Sport model was well behaved, but it felt slightly stiff-kneed, something that non-enthusiasts might find objectionable. Tightly snubbed body control is good, but there's more bobbing and head toss than we'd have liked. That said, if we had to pick, we'd take stiff over floaty. The electrically-assisted power steering surprisingly manages to avoid being shot up with Novocain, too. Thus, cruising down the road is relaxed in the RAV4 Sport. Overall, there's a Lexus-like sheen about its demeanor, and the attention to detail and care that's been taken with its design let it get away with some demerits. The RAV4 goes down the road in a calm, relaxed and muted fashion, and opting out of the V6 doesn't put you in an underpowered penalty box. Pricing in the mid-$20,000 range is competitive, and when compared with other small SUVs on the market, the RAV feels like a bargain that offers a level of sophistication that's head and shoulders above most.
source by autoblog