Story part 3
A half hour later, Darkhorse still hadn’t returned. Meanwhile, Henry had eaten breakfast and run off, and Earl and Wendy were on their second cup of post-breakfast tea, wondering what was taking so long. The magazines were still on the table, and they grabbed one each and proceeded to browse.
“Hey hon’, remember that suggestion you made, about beefed-up station wagons? Check this out…” Earl motioned her over, laying the magazine flat on the table.
Sport Utility Vehicles (SUVs) have been growing in popularity in recent years, the growth directly proportional to the distance gained from the type’s military and agricultural origins decades ago, in aspects of passenger comfort, roadholding, economy, and performance. To put it in a rather banal way, the more car-like they become, the more accepted they become as cars, by those with a need - real or imagined - for their defining capability to interface not only with paved civilization, but also with the unpaved wild.
This progress, however undeniable, still has a ways to go. More recently, it has been supplanted by a quantum leap in the opposite direction and from the opposite end: rather than trying to make the capable civilized, take what’s already civilized and make it capable. With versatility as the goal, the station wagon - arguably the most versatile form factor of the passenger car - is the logical starting point for such an endeavor. Enter the off-road station wagon.
The Principal Question is, as usual: does it work? Can you really crossbreed a santoku with a splitting maul to make a Swiss army knife? Or do car-like manners turn uncouth while offroad prowess turns incapable? To find out, we test five brand new station wagons, all four-wheel drive with knobby tires, plenty of daylight underneath, Premium-grade or better interiors, and pretenses - whether justified or not - of suitability for both the built-up human world and for the wild country.
Sayoko HW - 1600 woody
by @hilbert
By most of our test staff, the softer edges and more compact proportions of the Sayoko feel like a breath of fresh air among the rigid angular boxes typical of this segment. The wood paneling on the sides is a bold move for something so obviously modern and progressive, but most of us felt the HW pulled it off, thereby making not only an attractive stylistic statement, but also a bridge to the traditional appearance of station wagons. The curves of the wood panels are well assembled and match those of the excellent taillights, which feature shaped lenses to promote light dispersion.
On the downsides, the wood panels have no seams at the doors, and the lower greenhouse is janky. On the other hand, the front end is well done, showing the world a pleasant, very period-correct, not too upscale-looking but very much respectable face.
Inside, a lovely arrangement of black and various tans comprises the color palette, especially on the nicely shaped and padded dashboard. The backwards front armrests, awkwardly placed window cranks, oddly proportioned and overly upright seats are the flies in the ointment here, but for what we’re judging, none of that matters much; at the end of the day, the interior complements the overall looks.
By some margin, the Sayoko is the lightest of the bunch, weighing a mere 1008kg. This makes its engine - also by far the smallest here, a 1.6L iron/alu SOHC-4 flat four - reasonably well-suited for the car, where in most competitors it’d be undersized misery. It’s cammed relatively high, which gives it ample power but an unusually high idle of 1100rpm, a major contribution to its lackluster fuel economy (11.8L/100km). While some components received additional engineering attention, relatively little extra quality went into the engine, with predictable results: it’s by far the cheapest car here ($13400), and the least reliable (74.6 engine, 76.6 everything else).
Cute, cheap, practical, surprisingly comfortable (35.6), and as fun to drive as this segment gets (7.2, tied for first), the HW1600 does have some drawbacks. The rain on the parade begins with a drizzle of mediocrities: the aforementioned reliability, so-so corrosion resistance (34.7), and while it rides very well, at least on tarmac, it’s cramped. But the real downpour begins when the Sayoko is taken off-road (32.7). While well-equipped with all-terrain tires, skidplates, and a fully locking 4x4 drivetrain, the small tires (590mm) and low ground clearance mean that winter pavement and mild unpaved roads are about its limit. Furthermore, as you approach that limit, the surprising comfort takes a surprisingly big hit, as small tires are more affected by washboard and similar surfaces.
Advertising claimed the Sayoko to be revolutionary, and in some ways perhaps it is. We can recommend it for urban and suburban use cases - where off-road ability doesn’t much matter, smaller cars are easier to fit, and reliability is less a matter of survival. For more demanding conditions, however, we find it underdelivers on the implied promises of reliability and suitability for rough terrain.
Wendy: “Sounds like a fine choice for flatlanders, but I think we’d like something tougher and roomier than that. Too bad, I like the looks and what I hear of the ride.”
Earl: “The looks are alright by me too, and it sounds fun and practical, but I agree - not quite what we’re after.”
VERDICT: Declined. Rank TBA.
Ariete Solera OW-6D
by @bdub1 and @mart1n2005
The Ariete Solera OW-6D is one of the few vehicles on the market of any type to use pavement-friendly all-wheel drive, and the only one in this segment to combine it with locking differentials. That includes the center diff, making this a full-time four-wheel drive car. Combined with a reasonably balanced suspension tune, excellent brake tune, considerable engineering attention paid to weight distribution, and hydraulic rack steering, it’s a breeze to drive (57) and not entirely soulless while at it (4.7). Comfort is another highlight (40.6), owing to the double-wishbone front and semi-trailing rear suspension, a reasonably spacious Premium-grade interior, and medium-sized all-terrain tires.
The Ariete’s styling is a bit anonymous, but tasteful, and with plenty of subtle details that enrich the whole more the sum of its parts: the mid-door body moldings, the taillight frames well-matched to the relocated hatch seams, the detailing of the grill and lights. One foible here concerns the C-pillars; most of our test staff agreed that they are too upright, and that the rear windows needed to be split in order to open more than 20-25cm. Missing glass around all the pillars also put a dent in its visual rating, which was nonetheless good. With two shades of brown outside, and yellow and brown inside, it looks very much period-correct, too, though some of us felt that the yellow clashed slightly with the exterior tones.
The engine, an OHV 3.8 R6 diesel, is a paragon of reliability (91.6). It’s also smooth (78), torquey (240ft-lb at 2100), and very efficient (29.1%, resulting in 9.0 L/100km), though being not only a diesel but a direct-injection type, it’s a bit loud (38.7). We’re not sure about the visual merits of the baby blue paint on the block, but hey, it’s an engine and a pretty good one at that.
The Solera - whose name sounds very similar to Russian соляра (sol’ara, ‘diesel fuel’) - isn’t the cheapest to buy ($19600) or to service ($880), but for a long-term purchase, the fuel bill waters that down
considerably. Of course, that’d mean nothing if it were prone to rusting to death before that starts to matter, but with some extra attention paid to corrosion-resistant construction (43.0), that concern can be put to rest. Not outright concerning, but still worth mentioning is that everything besides the engine isn’t quite as reliable (76.8).
As an all-season wagon, it’s excellent. But what about all-terrain? Here, the Ariete can no longer hold its head quite so high. The drivetrain is as capable as they get, but the suspension choices yield to solid axles in capability. Like the Sayoko, ground clearance is rather low. Unlike the Sayoko, however, the tires are amply sized (660mm), and the resulting off-road ability (42.1), while mediocre, is nonetheless a meaningful improvement in the range of places it can go.
Wendy: “Well, this sounds very promising. The only thing giving me pause is the off-road ability. I mean, we don’t go rock-crawling, but is 42.1 good enough?”
Earl: “Maybe. It also might be a case of ‘how much would have to be sacrificed to get more’. I think it’s definitely worth checking out.”
Wendy: “Yes, especially if we can somehow get to test it offroad.”
Earl: “Hm, that’s not something a dealership ordinarily would do, but I’ve got a contact in Kelowna who just might allow that.”
Verdict: Worth a testdrive.
KPAW 107W 4x4
by @supersaturn77
Being rear-engined isn’t the only unique thing about the KPAW, but may well be its defining attribute, whence all others are derived. Consequences and implications of this layout begin with the visuals, with neither need nor presence of a grill, allowing its uniquely styled pointed nose to lead the way. Elsewhere the styling is quite generic, perhaps somewhat underdone. The slat vents under the taillights hint at a variety of interesting potential designs, but as is, the taillights are rather plain blocks.
The interior styling is as modern as the nose, if not more so. A bold three-color palette, no-nonsense layout, ample room, and excellent ergonomics enhance any purpose the KPAW is used for. The presence of proper armrests in the front is among the highlights.
Apart from its powertrain layout, the engineering of the KPAW is quite conventional, giving mostly average results, such as envionmental resistance (36.2), economy (11.6L), and a bit better than average drivability (52.6). The suspension tune, though somewhat sloppy, still ends up with the best dry-road handling here. It’s even good enough to make up for being somewhat underpowered (82hp, 125ft-lb), and our test team agreed that the overall enthusiastic driving experience tied with the Sayoko for first place (7.2). Surprisingly, its handling doesn’t come at the cost of good comfort (36.2), though contributions to that are noted from the high-end 8-track player, as well as the engine, the N6O2 2.2L - Konfig-L.
This motor, an undersquare 2195cc SOHC-2 V6, is remarkably light for its all-iron construction (129.5kg) underbored from a potential 2335cc. The forged internals are capable of far higher RPM than the engine
uses, which combine with a tried-n-true high-quality 2-barrel carburetor and extra exhaust quality to make for excellent reliability (83.8, second highest gasser). Elsewhere, reliability is merely ok (78). As far as chassis dynamics are concerned, the engine and layout are mutually sensible choices, though we would have appreciated a bit more power to go with the handling. Otherwise, there are two significant drawbacks - relatively high service costs ($936), and a major reduction in effective cargo volume and overall versatility of the car. Sure, there’s a frunk, but even if it were comparably sized to the space lost (it isn’t), simply being a separate space reduces its usefulness compared to the single cavern of a conventional wagon.
There’s a reason the KPAW is parked in the middle of the photo above, squarely on the pavement. In short, a transfer case and all-terrain tires alone do not an offroader make. For one deficiency, the driveline isn’t ideal for it; a clutch-type limited-slip diff is a lot better than nothing, and better-suited to bad roads than a locker, but when the surface becomes not only slippery but sufficiently bumpy, the clutch pack becomes less and less effective at delivering power where it’s needed. For another, there’s no skidplate to protect the driveline and body from whatever they may land on, exacerbated by the likelihood of that happening in the first place; the 635mm all-terrain tires aren’t quite made up for by the ride height, and just like with the Sayoko, the ride over washboard and other rough surfaces worsens more than it would with bigger tires. The result (32.7) is still much better than just about anything 2wd, but is outclassed by everything else here.
Earl: “I’m quite the fan of how it looks and is said to handle, but it doesn’t sound up to the job.”
Wendy: “Comfort and looks aside, it doesn’t have much going for it by me, and an engine taking up half the trunk… doesn’t work for us.”
Verdict: Declined. Rank TBA.
Bordeaux CS5 Familiale 4x4
by @the-chowi
Our test staff had very mixed reactions to the Bordeaux’ styling. Some drooled over its sharp and modern European lines. Others drooled even harder, seeing them over such beefy-looking running gear. Others thought that, on the contrary, the two visual themes clashed. Others thought it was awkward, if not quite ugly. And others had little to say about the form because they were too preoccupied with the car’s function, but more on that later. The yaysayers praised the clean lines and balanced overall proportions of the design. Execution and detail is half-decent, and nobody disputed that the overall appearance is one of justified confidence and tough capability. The naysayers pointed out the awkward angle of the rear side vent window, the uncertain alignment of the headlights in their housings, the strange taillights, and the seafoam green paint as less than visually successful.
More universally appreciated was the interior, with a pleasant black/tan two-tone color scheme, good ergonomics, and ample room.
The CS5 4x4 is the only one of this group to use a ladder frame, solid axles at both ends, or dedicated offroad tires, and the sum of these equipment choices begins to establish the Theme of just what we’re dealing with here. There’s a reason the Bordeaux is parked waist-deep in desert brush in our photo: leaps and bounds separate its offroad ability (61.5) from its nearest competitor. It even outperforms most actual SUVs, in part thanks to not being nearly as tall or heavy as one, yet with comparable running gear.
Motivating the Familiale is a 2.3L SOHC-2 inline four, an indirect-injection naturally-aspirated diesel. Understressed, and with +5 architecture, +5 bottom end, and +10 fuel system quality, the 2300D motor may as well be hewn out of solid granite, with stellar reliability (93.0). What’s more, it’s also very efficient, with thermal performance at 29.9% and overall economy a quite impressive 7.9L/100km. Less impressive is that it also has all the refinement of solid granite, rough (54.1 despite balance shafts) and noisy (42.7). Its song isn’t a terribly pleasing one, either.
Between the engine and the ground are a traditional part-time 4x4 5-speed manual drivetrain done at +10 quality, and +6 quality 680mm mud-terrain rubber. Extra build quality was also invested in the underbody armor (+3), interior (+5), hydraulic recirculating ball steering (+3), and suspension (+10). Besides the indestructible engine, the rest of the car is comparably reliable (85.6), and when something does need service, it takes little more than a stick and a hammer ($725). Nor shall it be destroyed by the tin worm, with its high-quality corrosion-resistant construction amounting to excellent environmental resistance (53.1). By now, the Theme is clear: this isn’t a car, this is a goddamn tank.
What do all these superlatives cost? Out of your wallet, $18900 upfront. Out of your backside and teeth fillings, however, the cost may be greater. In spite of a reasonably spacious, premium-grade interior, and exceptional engineering effort put into the coil-sprung suspension that isn’t especially stiff, the CS5 Familiale 4x4 rides like a shopping cart and handles not much better than one. The tire size does help it retain what passes for comfort (20.8) when going off road, but it’s by far the least comfortable car in this test. Worse than the ride is the noise - an unrefined diesel four-banging away up front, knobby tires underneath, and surprisingly meager soundproofing all around (+4.5%). But then again, who ever expected a tank to be comfortable?
Wendy: “Oof, this one might be too extreme.”
Earl: “Is 20.8 that bad? For context, the Flint was 1.5 and the Angus 25.8. Maybe we should see for ourselves. It’s got a lot else going for it…”
Wendy: “I dunno… I’d rather not downgrade in comfort, but it’s not a massive drop, and I do appreciate its upsides… alright, I suppose we should put it on the list.”
Verdict: Worth a testdrive.
Armor Ridgewood Brougham
by @gasstiresandoil
A luxury car crammed into this segment must be a gimmick, right? A dupe, a trick, a farcical stunt of advertising, a technically true but effectively empty claim made just to say they did.
Exhibit A: its name even bears that notorious epithet which sums up all the malaise, mediocrity, and delusions of grandeur in the midst of utter dreck that is the North American automotive industry in the mid-70s: Brougham.
Exhibit B: just look at it! That imperious, shameless grill. Those acres of fake wood paneling. The boxiness that declares, while peering down its nose, “the air will just move out of my way, if it knows its place.”
Well, why leave a stoning half-done? Let’s climb inside and find more to lambast… huh, that door feels remarkably solid. Wow, nice interior, but I’m sure it’s some flimsy plastic garbage… oh? Leather, indeed? This is real wood, you say? And the ergonomics are excellent… Wait, is this some kind of prank? Or do we realize that we’ve been wrong, that Armor made good use of a Luxury interior to make not only a luxury car, and not only a luxury off-road wagon, but a properly good one?
It’s fitting that the two cars with wood sides in this comparison should be so different. Where the Sayoko is modern and cute, the Armor is classical, regal, dignified. It doesn’t look out of date by any means, but takes a rather conservative approach to stylistic progress without eschewing it altogether. About the most visually daring part of it is the taillight arrangement, which falls well short of avant-garde but lands squarely at Classy.
Haven’t we always said that beauty is skin-deep, that it’s what’s inside that counts? With the Ridgewood, that holds abundantly true: the interior is beautifully done, intelligently arranged, and well-built. We’d even go so far as to say it doesn’t complement the exterior, but the other way around. It looks so good that we’re loathed to point out that white isn’t the best color for an interior on something designed to take you deep into the dirt. On the other hand, leather is easier to clean from mud than cloth. The interior is the star of the comfort parade, but far from the only member, joined in by tall, squishy tires and a tall, squishy suspension. It’s quite spacious for something that isn’t a land yacht, too. All this amounts to being comfortably ahead of everything else here when it comes to comfort (45.3).
Also contributing to the quality of life is decent refinement from the 3.3L OHV V6 under the hood. A well-rounded and impeccably tuned motor with plenty of quality invested, it’s reasonably smooth (62.8), reliable, easy to live with, and provides a reassuring reserve of power (136hp, 170ft-lb). While not the quietest (32.5), the noise it does make is a musical, refined note, combining with relatively brisk throttle response to make something vaguely enjoyable out of the driving experience. It’s not a lot (4.1), and the soft suspension doesn’t contribute much, but it’s there just enough to make up for so-so driveability (49.7).
So far, we’ve seen either good road cars that don’t especially like to get their hands dirty, or the opposite extreme, leading ominously to answering our Principal Question with No. Well, here’s arguably the best candidate to answer with Yes. While it doesn’t keep up with dedicated offroaders like a certain French tank, the Ridgewood’s off-road chops (48.2) handily outpace everything else here. The recipe is straightforward: independent front and coil-sprung rear suspension, huge (730mm) all-terrain tires, a conventional part-time 4x4 drivetrain, and ample ground clearance.
So it turns out you can have your cake and eat it too, but too much cake makes you fat and unhealthy, and some of that downside does manifest here. It’s the second most expensive of our five to buy ($19100), most expensive to fuel (13.9L/100km) and to maintain ($953), though the latter is mitigated slightly by the reliability of its engine (82.7) and to a lesser extent, everything else (77.9). Corrosion resistance is average in this segment (38.1).
Earl: This one might be excessive as well; do our backsides need that much coddling?"
Wendy: “It sure sounds good to me. It goes where we need it, it looks great outside and fantastic inside, it’s likely to last, doesn’t sound too bad to drive… I know it’s at about our budget limit, but from the sounds of it, I don’t foresee either it dying or us wishing it did.”
Earl: “Can’t say I do, either. The fuel bill might be mildly annoying, and I’d rather have a lower-spec interior that holds up better, but neither of those are dealbreakers. Let’s check it out.”
Verdict: Worth a testdrive.
