What's In My Driveway Now

Like a lot of modern duel-income families, we own two vehicles: a Ford Escape XLT-V-6, driven by my wife, and a Volkswagen Passat GLS, my daily driver. Considering that they are completely different vehicles, they largely accomplish the same purpose: both are five-passenger chariots capable of schlepping the kids wherever they need to go and both are 2001 models. The Ford is a compact SUV with a hard-as-nails interior, a mouse fur headliner that pulled away at the back in 2003, and a crappy original equipment sound system.  The Duratec 3.0L V-6 engine sounds coarse, the four speed automatic gearbox is about two gears understaffed, and paltry sound insulation makes the entire driving experience only slightly more fun than getting a dental filling. Frankly, I hate it. However, it has proven to be extremely reliable, survived three children's baby-seat-and-stroller stages, made numerous road trips to Grandma's house, and been my first mate on countless home improvement projects. Maybe hate is too strong. I like SUVs, including pretend SUVs known as crossovers. Anyone who needs to haul people or stuff on a regular basis will not find a more versatile conveyance. They are the Swiss Army knife of the car world. My gripes with the Escape is its lack of refinement. I do not expect Lexus luxury at this price point, but how much would some more sound insulation add to the cost? Ford probably had way too many accountants on the project management team that produced the Escape, judging by the choice of interior materials, but at least they had the good sense to use proven, if not very exciting technology. For all of its flaws, the Ford Escape has consistently been a big seller, and may have helped keep the Ford Motor Company out of bankruptcy last year.

The VW is smallish midsized sedan that has gone a long way toward mitigating a midlife crisis. It is a practical family car with three-point seat belts for all five occupants, high quality interior materials that are a pleasure to touch, more airbags than the US Senate, and much easier on your wallet. The 1.8L turbocharged four cylinder engine is smooth and refined, although it does suffer from turbo lag until it hits around 2500 RPM. Do not attempt a stoplight drag race in this car unless the other car is also equipped with the same 150 hp engine; you will embarrass yourself. Once the force feeder is wide awake, though, the rate of acceleration rises with authority.  My Passat is equipped with a five-speed manual, so making a 50-70 mph pass on the Mission Valley freeway is as simple as dropping from fifth to fourth and flooring it. I chose a manual because it makes the turbo lag liveable. When I was shopping for this car, I had test driven another 1.8T-powered Passat with an automatic and found it unbearable. Stepping on the gas from a standstill gets the same reaction as telling a cat to roll over. That would never do on a metered freeway on-ramp. With a proper gearbox, a relatively quick takeoff is a matter of some deft footwork between gas and clutch, kind of like opening a can of tuna and seeing the cat materialize, suddenly eager to please.

2001 was the last year of this particular generation. Halfway through that model year, the 2001.5 Passat was substantially improved. Among the changes were a more powerful 1.8T engine with 170 horsepower. When VW brought out a completely new Passat for 2006, the four-cylinder engine was enlarged to become the 2.0T which is not only more powerful (200 hp), but I can attest  that it is virtually lag free, even with an automatic.

The cockpit is all business, and nearly every major function is operated with substantial, easy-to-grab dials. The seat fabric is soft to the touch yet just slightly rough so as to hold you in place during a high-speed lane change. I have 138,000 miles this car, I live in the sunbelt, my garage has not hosted a car in the ten years we have owned the house, and there is not a tear, sunburn, or crack on the seats, dash, or door panels.

During the day the gauges are white on black, but at night the display is bathed in a cool shade of blue that reminds me of a curacao margarita that I once had at El Torito. A few years ago, I took a solo trip, mostly at night, from San Diego to Tucson. It is the only time I can remember making that trip (I have done it at least a hundred times) without my eyes burning from fatigue.

Quite simply, I love this car.

That is not to say that I have no gripes about it. I have one: the console. Not just the storage bin between the front seats that doubles as an armrest, but the entire kit from the bottom of the dash all the way back. The front cupholders are cleverly hidden behind a narrow panel that you access by pushing the right corner. The holder assembly slowly opens out at a forty-five degree from which slide two  rings that are designed to hold only a twelve-ounce tin can each, supported from underneath by a small plastic bar that looks like a spoiler from a Mistubishi Evo that has been been shrunken and inverted. It folds into the assembly when closed, but open it is only an inch or so below the ring, creating a very shallow holder. It holds a tall Starbuck's cup, but not snugly, causing it to stand crooked. Any bumps or turns with a full cup will result in a spill. And a grande or larger drink is so top heavy that just moving is out of the question unless you drink at least a third of it before setting off on your journey. The fake leather boot around the gear shifter looks like the skin on a sun worshiper who did a lot of drugs in the '60s. The aforementioned armrest/storage bin is infinitely adjustable (good), but the padding, while soft (also good) is covered in fabric that has taken on an unhealthy shine (not so good), like a black eye that will not heal. While it appears to be the same material as the seats, I do not see any shiny spots where my butt has been parked all these years. The clip that holds the bin closed is so flimsy that it broke off (twice) when one of my kids let gravity close the lid. The second clip did not survive the week. Finally, the cupholders for the rear passengers are not only useless, but the trim panel that conceals them when closed snaps off so easily that just a dirty look pops them open. Who designed this console, Ford's accounting department?

Thankfully, Volkswagen redesigned the console for 2001.5 and later model years. The cupholders now occupy the space next to the hand brake and are set into the console. They are deeper, wider, and are concealed by a lid. Venti lattes can ride in safety and comfort, and carpets stay clean. Incidentally, my Ford Escape has two nice, deep cupholders with a notch to allow clearance for commuter mug handles. I think this one got past the accountants.

But, I still love my 2001 VW.

Putting aside my emotional attachment to it, I cannot fully explain why Volkswagen has sold relatively few Passats. Considering that Southern California is the world's largest market for Mercedes-Benz and BMW, I would think that there are lots of people who might appreciate its rock-solid German engineering, elegant simplicity, and reasonable (though not cheap) price. They are an incredible value, and much more fun to drive than the competition. I realize that VWs generally do not have the reputation for reliability as, say, Honda. I have owned three Hondas and, at least in my experience, have not found my dark blue Passat to be any less reliable or any more expensive to maintain or repair. I asked my mechanic what the deal is with VW, and he said that the parts are more expensive than Japanese parts, and they are a pain to work on. However, Mercedes and BMW are more expensive and way more expensive, respectively, to repair than the People's Car.

I think that Europe's largest car company does not understand the American market, but that is another article.