2009 Audi A4 3.2 Quattro Review




Over the last few years, the last generation Audi A4 was growing increasingly stale. Updated offerings from BMW, Lexus, Infiniti, everyone but Volvo have overtaken Ingolstadt’s brot und butter model. To keep the faith– or at least the faithful– Audi’s engineers initiated a massive redesign of the A4. Obviously, it’s a better car. Vorsprung and all that. But can the new A4 leapfrog the luxury brat pack? Or is it more of the same? Yes.

If the new A4’s front end looks vaguely familiar, it’s because you’ve already seen it (essentially) on the A5. I’ve never been a fan of the A4’s slightly bulbous looks (too much like a fancy-schmancy Passat). The new version is a cheeky twist on the old one, like a sci-fi cinematic remake that acknowledges its predecessor even as it blows it away. The new car’s wider track gives the A4 a more menacing look than before, and the rest of the design returns Audi to its recent understated aggression remit. Now, if they only modified Billy the Big Mouth Bass for U.S. license plates…

Inside, the A4’s impresses at one of the most important touch points: the steering wheel. Granted, the fat helm isn’t as ergasmic as the GTI’s tiller, but I’ll have what she’s having. Unfortunately, the rest of the Audi driver’s zone has been afflicted with the same button-itis infecting Acura’s offerings (paging Steve Jobs). Learning to master the farrago of functions puts drivers on a learning curve on par with differential equations. Fortunately, the A4’s fit and finish maintain Audi’s unique selling point. And thanks to a longer wheelbase, the A4’s rear compartment finally offers what Americans call “legroom.”

As before, the A4’s engine bay packs either a 2.0T four or a 3.2 V6. Despite making a class trailing 265 horsepower, the six-pot’s been tuned to deliver more of what pistonheads like at lower rpms. Combined with direct injection, both fuel efficiency and driveability are improved; there’s none of that nasty lag commonly associated with drive-by-wire throttles. Not even when you’re trying to recreate the official zero to sixty sprint of six point nothing seconds.

The A4’s automatic transmission is a very fine thing indeed. The six-speeds come and go with such ease that you’d be forgiven for thinking the A4 was packing a DSG instead of ye olde Tiptronic. Better yet, the slushbox rev-matches downshifts so smoothly they’re literally imperceptible. So, wafting.

The A4 sits on the model’s first new platform since the Manic Street Preacher’s singer walked away from his Vauxhall Cavalier (1995). There’s a better balanced body and a new Quattro all-wheel-drive system. The latter now splits torque 40 percent front/60 percent rear, making the A4 feel more like a rear wheel-drive car. While understeer isn’t banished entirely, it’s no longer the A4’s defining dynamic response.

And then there’s “Audi Drive Select.” At the touch of a button you can modify the vehicle’s throttle response, shift points, suspension, power steering boost and steering ratio. Switching between ‘comfort’ and ‘dynamic/sport’ changes the A4 from comfortable cruiser to corner carver. No really. You can also let the car decide: automatic mode reads your inputs and tightens or loosens all those variables as the car sees fit. Or, you can customize all your settings (good luck with that).

Audi brags that they adapted the A4’s steering system from the NASA moon rover program. On the dark side, you’re good to go. At speed, the ECU reduces the steering ratio such that barely a half turn of the wheel is required to follow even the tightest of hairpins. In “dumb down mode,” on long straight stretches of road, the A4’s steering wil leave you craving the slightest hint of gravity. Yes, the system eliminates the over-correction some sports-oriented sedans experience during an ‘OHSHIT’ situation. But Quattro or no Quattro, on-center feel is something Audi should, finally, fix.

It’s really too bad that you can’t buy/lease a BMW 335xi for the same amount of money as the A4 3.2 and have the fist of an angry God under-hood. But you can’t, so there. Besides, who needs all that power (other than you and me)? And the Lexus, Infiniti and the Caddy equivalents lack Audi’s Germanic, uh, stolidity. Anyway, the Audi A4 still has a big question mark over its reliability, but it’s a fine steer. And it no longer carries the stigma of offering less for more. It is, once again, a sensible choice for sensible people who want to appear slightly sporty in a sensible way and might, on the rare occasion, in bad weather, be late for a dentist appointment.



by: Megan Benoit



2009 Volkswagen Routan Review





A large percentage of TTAC readers arrive here via a Google search of a specific vehicle. They know nothing of– nor care much about– our “take no prisoners” editorials or Inside Baseball auto industry analysis. So, in their honor, let’s start with THE key fact: the VW Routan is a rebadged Chrysler minivan. Rebadged as in mildly reworked. So why buy a VW Routan instead of a Chrysler product? For the same reason you’d buy a Chrysler minivan over a Honda Odyssey or Toyota Sienna: no reason at all, really. But there’s more to it than that. At least in theory…

Externally, the Routan’s metalworkers have done what they could to differentiate their “German engineered” product from its American/Canadian cousins (i.e. nothing much). If the Dodge Caravan is a lunchbox, and The Town and Country a Chrysler 300 sedan inflated by 500 percent, the Routan is an inflated lunchbox with a VW nose. That said, the Routan’s schnoz demonstrates the importance of a vehicle’s “face;” VW’s plunging trapezoid re-brands the box, transforming it into a significantly more coherent vehicle. Whether or not the resulting VW-ness appeals depends on how many hours/dollars you’ve spent at a VW dealership.

The aesthetic improvements continue inside… somewhat. VW recast the Chyrsler product’s cheap ass dash in a faux painted metal. For those who remember the original Microbus, it’s a constant reminder of the innovative, iconoclastic vehicle that the Routan is not. There’s no disguising the Routan’s modern roots: a non-Germanic vehicle made for people comfortable living inside a box. If you can’t see the problem, blinded as you are by the steering wheel’s big-ass logo, you can feel it. The switchgear and cabinetry respond with Chrysler-esque imprecision.

Also lacking: Chrysler’s oh-so clever Stow-n-Go seating. Jumbo cargo schleppers will have to remove the Routan’s mid seats and leave them somewhere. On the flip side (get it?), the Routan’s second row seats are considerably more comfortable than Chrysler’s origami ones. If you’re going to be carting more humans than old armoires, the Routan is the way to go.

Our test van had a power tailgate, which is helpful. You can lift things out, hit the gate with your elbow and walk away. The power-folding rear seat is jewelry: a nice touch that serves no practical function. Minivanistas will know that reconfiguring seats means crawling around in the back moving CD collections, abandoned sippy cups, Tonka trucks and such before you can start the folding. After that, who cares if seat accordionage is just a button away?

They’ve Veedubbed the Dodge, but it’s still a Dodge. For example, the spare tire. You must lower it to ground from a knob on the floor near the driver’s seat. Had VW bolted the wheel to the front grill, I would have given this thing five stars just for old time’s sake. Hell, I may have bought one. As nice as the Routan is– with its cubbies and LED map lights and 13 cup holders (six passengers can two-fist it, with the driver leaving one hand on the wheel) and back-up video camera– it’s got as much character as Brooke Shields in The Muppets Take Manhattan.

The Routan offers the same engines as its supposed Chrysler platform mates (duh): a 3.8-liter V6 making 197 hp or a 4.0-liter V6 turning-out 251 ponies. Bigger is better. The larger-engined SEL is not slow; zero to sixty in 8.9 seconds is an acceptable sprint time for a 4621 lbs. family hauler. More importantly, there’s plenty of torque on tap, allowing smooth, predictable acceleration at all speeds. AND the bigger motor gets slightly better gas mileage.

VW claimed they spent millions on the Routan’s suspension to give it that “VW feel.” Marketing execs now join TV weather people and my high school guidance counselor as people whose information must be “recalibrated” with reality. The whole world is not a parking lot. There’s simply too much waft, wallow and float, even for a minivan. I’ve driven heavyweight Dodge Chargers and sprightly VW GTIs. Both donor companies can do better.

I didn’t take the Routan on the Autobahn. Maybe there’s a difference between this four-wheeled crate and Dodge’s version at 100-plus miles per hour. The set up did seem a tad more taut than the Caravan’s… if I concentrated. What I came to believe, after a couple of mixed miles, is that whatever VW spent got diluted. Tweaking a suspension, while keeping everything else, yields nothing very much.

Taken as a whole, the Routan is the most desirable of the three minivans sharing this platform– provided you don’t need the trick seats. If Honda, Kia and Toyota weren’t in this space, the Routan would rule. But they are, so it doesn’t.


by: Michael Martineck