Yesterday, I wrote about Toyota allegedly cranking up Japanese production of its new Aqua a.k.a. Prius C to 30,000 a month. After I did this, jargon vigilantes protested the use of “engineering feat.” Keep protesting. Today, we will see why the Prius C is an engineering feat. We will also learn how the height of batteries and gas tanks can influence aerodynamics.

In order to research these phenomena, I traveled on your behalf all the way to scenic Keihinmakuhari, Chiba, Japan.

There, in the parking lot of the New Otani Hotel, Toyota had parked a whole fleet of feats.

Soon, this reporter would be able to test drive the Japanese version of the Prius C, which will land on U.S. shores some time this spring. Allegedly, it will come with an EPA city fuel economy rating of 53 mpg, and a starting MSRP of $19,000.Which is said to be one of the best fuel economies on this tortured planet, or, to mollify the jargon vigilantes, pretty darn good.

These get-togethers are being conducted in the charmingly vanilla Toyota style: You meet in a nondescript location, you receive a stack of paper and a quick PowerPoint. Then you get a car. The beauty of these events is that while the members of the Fourth Estate are out driving, you can sit down with the people who actually created that car and talk to them.

We had already talked to Chief Engineer Satoshi Ogiso months ago. (Attention jargon vigilantes: Dirty word in headline of linked article!) Therefore, I had a sit-down chat with the Prius C Project Manager, Masahiko Yanagihara.

Right away, Yanagihara denied The Nikkei’s 30,000 a month claim, in a very diplomatic way.

Yanagihara did not even mention The Nikkei. He however pointed out that the Aqua/Prius C is being built in the Iwate plant of subsidiary Kanto Auto Works in Kanegasaki, and only there. (Keep that in mind, we will revisit this.) He also noted that this specific plant has a maximum capacity of 30,000 units a month, “if we do overtime and such.” He then added that “other cars, such as the Ractis, Belta, Blade etc.” are also being made there. Then he looked me in the eye. A non-verbal “Wakarimashita ka?” (capisce?)

Wakarimashita!

Let’s revisit this: The Aqua/Prius C is being built in the Iwate plant of subsidiary Kanto Auto Works in Kanegasaki, and only there. That includes all cars that are exported. The Prius C is and for the foreseeable future will not be built anywhere else. Now you know how many Toyota expects to sell. For now.

But why (vigilantes, start heating the tar and plucking the feathers) is a compact car with a 1.5 liter 74 hp Atkinson cycle engine an engineering feat? I’ll let you in on  a little industry secret: Building good large cars is fairly easy. Building good small cars requires heavy engineering. In a way, large car owners are the guinea pigs for the small car masses. Large car owners get the latest technology in its expensive, awkward and bulky self (think first generation cell phones). Once technology reaches the masses, it must be elegant, small, and affordable. (Think the phone in your pocket.)

To make all the gadgetry fit, the engineers at Toyota put the Hybrid drive on a diet. Even after shrinking, fitting the components wasn’t easy.

The battery had no room behind the seat, therefore, it had to go under the rear seats. Together with the gas tank. (If you think a gas tank and a hot battery are strange under-the seat fellows: Toyota put both in their own steel casing.) When Toyota did that, battery and tank did not quite fit under the seats. “No problem,” would the usual answer be, “let’s raise the rear seats a few inches.” Not good. The rear roofline would have to be raised also in order to avoid heads bouncing into the headliner. That again would have ruined the beautiful 0.28 drag coefficient.

Solving this simple-sounding, but nasty conundrum did cost Toyota 1.5 years. In that time, extra inches and banging heads were eliminated by reducing the height of the battery and that of the gas tank. (Now you know why the Prius C has a 36 liter tank, whereas, say, the Yaris has a 42 liter tank.) Moving the (heavy) battery and the (heavy when full) tank below the rear seat had another advantage: It lowered the center of gravity, which makes that miserly car rather fun to drive. There are many more engineering feats in this car, but this review (of sorts) is already approaching 800 words, and I have yet to drive it.

At 10.7 seconds from zero to 100 km, the car won’t win drag races, but hey, it’s about the same as the Prius (and, come to think of it, the MK I Golf GTI.) Now if you think this is a lead-in to my test drive, then I must disappoint you. Sure, I drove the car. But driving through Chiba while more or less observing the 50 km/h (31 mph) speed limit is no test drive. I am also not willing to criticize the haptic qualities of the plastic used in a trim which you will never see, unless you move to Japan. We will leave this in the hands of our master reviewer Alex Dykes, who hopefully soon will get his hands on, and his butt in a Prius C in the proper U.S. spec.

Toyota paid for a tank of gas (which was hardly used), a boxed lunch and two coffees. I paid the train fare from my home to Chiba, and attention.

Today was the day Toyota’s FT86 was officially revealed. Actually, it will be officially revealed at the Tokyo Motor Show, which will open its doors to the public on December 3. Today, the international media had a sneak preview of the car. Us, and maybe 20,000 people who lined the galleries of the Fuji Raceway where Toyota and Gazoo Racing held its TGRF (Toyota Gazoo Racing Festival).  The masses could witness from afar as Akio Toyoda climbed out of an orange sports car, removed his helmet and waved at the adoring crowds.

The press corps had a chance to drive the car. That opportunity that was immediately turned into hoonery by a rough and tumble contingent from Australia. One of them drove the car with so much enthusiasm that it spun out , did a few twirls and had a near-miss with an Australian cohort. We immediately had proof that the car provided only the barest necessities in computer control, and that one has to know how to drive, unless a rendition of Swan Lake is desired.

Before we get to that, the essentials. The name of the car had been the target of endless speculation. Until yesterday evening, Toyota steadfastly referred to the car as nothing else than a “compact real-wheel-drive sports car.”

Some at TTAC had recommended that the car should get a Japanese name. Toyota listens to its customers and complied.

The car will be called “Hachiroku.”

This is Japanese and means 86.

Yes, Toyota simply dropped the “FT”. It also wants to carry on the spirit of the AE86 of lore.

For me, the most interesting part of today was to sit in a quiet room with Tetsuya Tada, and a handpicked group of journalists. (The man on the right is Hans Greimel of Automotive News.) We could listen to Tada’s comments about the car. We had talked before, in August, but this time, the Chief Engineer of the 86 could be less circumspect and was able to talk openly. He sure did. For starters, I learn that Toyota’s test drivers had given him a very hard time:

“Mr. Toyoda almost continuously participated in the development of this car. Not as President, but as a test driver. Usually, when they say that the president of a company is test driving a prototype car, then it is mostly ceremonial. Mr. Toyoda’s participation was not simply ceremonial. He was a serious test driver and had some pretty tough comments. In some phases of the development. he said: “If that is the best you can do, why not quit now.” One by one, we overcame these problems.”

In the grand scheme of things, Akio Toyoda had been polite. Stronger words came from Hiromu Naruse, Toyota’s chief test driver who found an untimely death by crashing his LFA into a BMW 3series on a rural highway close to the Nürburgring. Tada remembers:

“When Naruse-san was still alive, he participated in the tests many time and gave us some quite harsh comments, like: ‘This is a miserable car. You are doing very poorly.’

We tested this car at the Nürburgring. Naruse-san died very close to the Nürburgring, and each time we testdrove the car later, we made sure to pass by the memorial of Naruse-san. We tried to keep Naruse-san’s spirit  alive.”

One by one, the challenges thrown up by the test drivers were met. But there were other people, Tada had to contend with.

“We visited with car enthusiasts in Japan, America and Europe. The feedback we received was almost always the same. They said there are a lot of sports cars with high horsepower that are very fast, but these are not the sports cars that they want to have. They want small compact cars that are controllable, that they can tune themselves. However, that kind of sports car is not on the market. Therefore, these sports car enthusiasts are forced to continue to use older cars from a long time ago, because there is no new alterative on the market.”

Their requirements clashed with another group: Toyota’s board. The board wanted a car that goes faster than other cars. Tada’s colleagues at other car companies had to contend with the same problem:

“We also went to competitors and asked them: “Why do you focus on fast cars?” The response almost always was: ‘Actually, we really don’t want to develop these kinds of cars. But once we bring a plan to develop that car to our board, the first question the directors of the company would ask is: How much faster is that car compared to what the competition has? How many seconds faster around the Nürburgring? What about the acceleration? These questions always come up because numerical performance is the easiest to understand.

Now how did we get the permission from our board? The only reason was that among the directors, there was a person called Akio Toyoda, who is a car enthusiast himself.”

Tada not only had to convince a board that was fixated on numbers. He also had to do something highly risqué: Ditch the Toyota Way of developing cars:

“There is a Toyota standard for designing new cars. This standard was to a large extent ignored. Why did we do this? There are cars that are accepted by a lot of people. Practical cars that are easy to drive and that do not break easily. These are standard Toyota cars. The 86 is not a car like that. We had to change our design approach for this car. We may have to do this again for other cars.

It is impossible to develop a sports car that appeals to everybody. If you try to please everybody, the car would be half-baked for everybody, and not particularly good for anybody.  This car is not developed by a committee, or by consensus.”

And would you believe that even Toyota’s advertising department did not like the car?

“When we first presented this idea to our advertising people, they were drastically opposed to this idea. They complained that the car doesn’t have a particularly fast time on the circuit, it does not use any new technology. They also could not think of a catchy headline for the catalogue.”

Someone should have a chat with that advertising department.

The word of mouth enthusiasm for this car is so strong, maybe it doesn’t need any advertising.  Thousands of grassroots racers around the world are looking forward to a car they can tinker with.  Tada built it for them:

“To make the car customizable, we did away with computers to the highest extent possible. A lot of the cars on the market today are controlled by computers. People have the feeling that they are driven by the car instead of them driving the car. That makes for a boring experience. That is why we decided to go back to the basics of car making. With the low center of gravity, the driver now is in personal touch with the road again.”

How much will this car cost? This remains a state secret. All Toyota says is that it will be “affordably priced.” Asked what that means, Tada launches into a dangerous discourse, with his press handlers getting visibly nervous:

“30 to 40 years ago, there was an AE86, and the price of this car was 1.5 million yen. At the time, that was the starting salary was for a university graduate. We kept that in mind when we priced the car. In the meantime, there has been a rise in prices, and the starting salaries rose also.”

The starting salary of a university graduate in Japan is around 2.5 million yen. In today’s undervalued dollars, this would be around $32,000. We will have to wait until early 2012 when the car is officially released. There will be no pricing announcement at the Auto Show.

All the specs that are available can be downloaded here.

Ah, the test-drive.

I drove the same 86 the Aussie hoons pirouetted through a sharp turn. All I did was make the tires chirp. At a test drive, I like to return the car as I found it. It drove very nicely. It does not press you into the bucket seat with jet fighter g-forces. I am told it will do 230 km/h (143 mph) and will go 0-100 km/h (0-62 mph) in 6 seconds.

Would I buy it?

Yes.

Today, the 7^th generation Camry was shown to the Japanese press in Tokyo. It was weeks after the new Camry had been shown in the U:S. and tested by the creme de la TTAC. Actually, it feels like Japan was the last country to get a Camry launch. And honestly, the country deserves short shrift: Less than one percent of the total worldwide Camry production (692,000 in 2010) is sold in Japan. With 14 million made up to date, the Camry is one of the world’s best selling cars, and the Japanese snub their noses at it. More than half of the production goes to the U.S., 22 percent are sold in China, the rest of the world takes the rest.

Frank Greve who had flogged manufacturer largesse with journalists would love Japanese car launches, especially those by Toyota. No business class flights to Scotland, no private planes to Sicily, no free iPads. The only thing you get for free at Toyota is an invitation and a bottle of water when it’s hot. They don’t need freebies: The A-list of the media, from the Nikkei to Dow Jones, from Reuters to NHK shows up, they report what they see and usually hit “send” before the event is over.

Today’s launch was a masterpiece of essentialism. It took place in a drab meeting room of the Japan Auto Manufacturers Association. Test drives?

Forget it: There was exactly one black Camry parked next to the building, and it wasn’t available for driving. Honestly, I like these frugal events. They are real press conferences, not a sales show.

And we could clear up something that had vexed the Best and Brightest for a while: The was a rumor going around that the U.S. would get a different Camry that “the Asians.” Let’s have a look, at least as far as a part of Asia is concerned that is called Japan.

From the front: Not so much difference:

From the side: Not so much difference.

Under the hood: Whoa. All new Camry models for the Japan market are propelled by the Toyota Hybrid System (THS) II. It uses a newly developed 2.5-liter Atkinson engine (2AR-FXE) with reduction gear. Hybrids account for 14 percent of all regular cars sold in Japan, so Toyota offers the Camry in Japan as hybrid only.

This is its battery.

“The Camry doesn’t sell as much here as it does in the States, so we decided to focus on fuel economy,” deputy chief engineer Keiichi Yoneda explained. The car gets 26.5 km/l under the Japanese Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism (MLIT) test cycle and 23.4 km/l under the JC08 test cycle. That would be 62.3 mpg and 55 mpg respectively – definitely non-EPA. Still, the JDM Camry is basically the USDM Camry Hybrid.

There is one thing Americans won’t get, and that’s Made in Japan Camrys. Most U.S. Camrys are made in Kentucky. However, in the past a few Japan-made Camrys found their way stateside. This will stop, as it was announced at the press conference.

“When we started working on the FT-86 we had no idea where we would end up,” said Tetsuya Tada, whom I met last Sunday to talk about his work.

“Was it going to be a ridiculously expensive car? Or one anyone can buy? All we knew it was going to be a sports car. The rest was a blank sheet.”

The FT-86 that eventually took shape on this blank sheet will be in showrooms down the street from you, all over the world, next year.

The FT-86 ”may just be the car to herald Toyota’s ‘second renaissance,” if some enthusiast blogs are right.

At the very least, this car will change how we think and dream of a sports car: We won’t. This is not a dream car. For most of us, it will be an impulse buy.

Tetsuya Tada tells its story.

Tetsuya Tada is the Chief Engineer of the FT-86, Toyota’s new sports car that had powered the rumor mills for many years. Some enthusiast blogs enthusiastically painted Tada as the “Jason Bourne of Toyota Sports car development.” If that is the case, then he is the friendliest and most unassuming Jason Bourne I ever heard of. He is the man I’d expect to see carrying two bags when I take out my carefully sorted garbage after midnight in a quiet Japanese neighborhood. As a Toyota Chief Engineer however, Tada carries more responsibility and more power than the Ludlum hero. Scott Bellware once described the role of a Chief Engineer at Toyota like this:

“He is the person responsible for the design, development, and sale of the product. He is the organizational pinnacle and the hub through which authority and ability flow. The CE isn’t just an architect or technical lead or just a customer proxy or just a project manager or just process master. He’s all of these things and more. He doesn’t just pass along customer requirements for the product, he defines them. He doesn’t just implement the business’s design for the product, he creates it. He’s large and in-charge, and he’s uniquely and deeply qualified to be so.

Because all of these abilities and authorities are invested in one extremely capable, senior, trusted product development person, the coordination of the various perspectives, values, and vision of a product and its execution don’t suffer design-by-committee issues. And because the CE has these many responsibilities and abilities, he’s a rare person.”

Tada indeed is a rare person. Dressed in khaki pants and a striped shirt, the affable attitude accentuated by rimless glasses, he hides all that power well.

We met last Sunday at Toyota’s Megaweb down by the waterfront. Megaweb is part theme park, part test drive venue. We met there, because an FT-86 prototype is on display. We didn’t go there to drive it. First off, Megaweb is not a test track. It was barely appropriate to give the iQ a slow spin. Second, most of the FT-86 is still a secret. Doors and hatches of the car on display are locked tight. So were the lips of its Chief Engineer.

“You can ask anything except specs and price,” Tada-san announced after we found a quiet space away from the din of the Megaweb.

“In that case, let’s have lunch,” was my answer.

In lieu of talking about cars, we found out that Tada lived where I lived during his time in Germany: In Düsseldorf Oberkassel, me because of its watering holes, him because of the Japanese school. Japan’s Jason Bourne is a dad who rather did a 100km round trip commute to Toyota Cologne each day than put his children’s education at risk. Speaking of lunch, we established that we both had regular lunch at the Kikaku, Düsseldorf’s best sushi place. That created a bit of bonding, and Tada started talking about the car.

When Tada stared at a white page, it was 2007. He didn’t know what to think:

“We did know from the very beginning that it was going to be a sports car. I said, well, if it’s going to be a sports car, it has to go fast. We were looking at the Nissan GT-R, the Mitsubishi Evolution, those cars were in our heads at the original stage.

Then we thought: Should we make a car that is faster than the GT-R?

You know what we did then? We did a lot of research. We talked to owners, fanatics, real buyers of sports cars around the world. They told us: Speed isn’t everything. If it’s just an incredibly fast car, they don’t really want it. What they want is a sports car that is small, compact, light, and that handles just the way they want it to handle.”

The customers wanted more: They wanted a sports car for less. A Veyron makes for good copy and dreams. But it also causes can’t-have-it frustrations. Tada listened intently to his future customers:

“The super-super-super fast cars are only for the super-rich. Even most super-rich don’t want to buy them. The people I talked to were looking for something like the 80s kind of a sports car, echoes of an AE86. They wanted a stripped-down, basic sports car with the price more like that of a piece of sports equipment, not the price of a house. Those people wanted something that doesn’t exist.”

Tada and his team set out to design the impossible. A year later, they had the design, the specs, and the price point. Tada presented it to the board of Toyota. The concept was approved. The project had an important advocate on the board: Akio Toyoda. At the time, the CEO was Katsuaki Watanabe. The time was 2008, and all over the world, the skies were falling.

Tada puts it in his trademark humble words when he describes the boardroom discussions:

“Sometimes, it is a little hard to explain why this kind of a vehicle is needed for the Toyota brand. If you just take the commercial point of view – it won’t make a lot of money, and of course, there are some people who object to that. But as they say, money isn’t everything – especially when it comes to branding.”

At the height of carmageddon, Tada received the go-ahead for what we would call an “enthusiast car.” The Japanese have a more befitting description. It’s a “nekkyousha car” a car for maniacs – in a good way. It helped that Toyota’s resident auto otaku, Akio Toyoda, was behind the concept, and it helped even more that he became President of Toyota a year later.

Asked what changed for the FT-86 when Toyoda took the helm of Toyota, Tada says: ”He became one of our test drivers.”

Asked what it means when you work in the shadow, but also in full view of the President of the world’s largest carmaker, Tada changes the subject. His true boss is the customer, and the customer didn’t want another rice racer:

“It is possible to soup-up sedans or hatchbacks to make them sporty. But what these people are after is a body that is already very low to the ground, very sleek, a body that they can then work on – if they want.”

As for low to the ground, Tada promises a “production car with the world’s lowest center of gravity.” The FT-86 will be a tinkerer’s car. The car is named “FT-86” for a reason. Toyota wants to make a mental connection to the AE86, the archetypical cult-craze car from the Star Wars era. Nearly 20 years later, the hachiroku (Japanese for 86) still commands a following for which some modern day Messiahs would kill. Toyota wants to build a new millennium hachiroku so bad, they even kept the number. Says Tada:

“The 86 was such a popular maniac car not because of what the maker did, but what the users did with it. It created its own aftermarket and a tuner industry. The idea of the FT-86 is basically the same. We want to create a car that is easy for people to tune and to play with.”

Tada indeed is a rare person. The Teutonic engineers I grew up with used go into convulsions or threw screaming fits when people modified “their cars” – except maybe using factory-approved and overpriced accessories.

Tada smiles when you ask him whether is hurts his pride as an engineer when the people of SEMA gang-rape “his car.”

“Yes.”

A short, but honest answer. Isn’t it painful to spend years designing the perfect car, and to make it so perfect in a sense that some guys in a garage can modify it beyond recognition without even breaking a sweat or lighting a welder?

“Yes.”

The Chief Engineer’s sensitivities are touched by the most benign act of modding – the choice of tires:

“We usually come up with a designated tire, a tire that is optimal for the car. We arrive at this decision after long tests. That some guys go and decide their own tire steals a little something from the enjoyment of the engineer – but that’s the concept of this vehicle. It is not made for the enjoyment of the engineer – it is made for the enjoyment of the owner.”

That owner may not need a lot of money, but he will need to know how to drive. He will need to use his own brain and the seat of his own pants. Tada had jotted down the principle in his self-derived design guide, and he sticks with it:

“From the beginning, the concept was to put the driver back in the driver’s seat, and to eliminate computers as much as possible today. Powerful sports cars use a lot of computer technology so that anyone can drive and handle them. We decided not to go down that road.”

The FT-86 has about half of the computing power that is dragged around in a modern day car. The preferred shifter is a stick. An automatic is optional. The slushbox is nothing fancy. “No DSG or anything of that kind,” says Tada, and is proud. Sure, the automatic has a computer, but the shift points cannot be changed – at least not at the flip of a switch in the dashboard. Computers want to keep you on the straight and narrow, but some FT-86 owners want that car to go sideways. If you need nannies, go down to the children’s hospital.

The FT-86 will be built at Fuji Heavy’s Subaru, and when I mention that, the engineer’s pride shifts into low gear – for extra revs. Tada quickly explains that this is just contract production, and it’s the same as “when we make cars at Central Motors or Kanto Auto Works.” Both are separate companies, but they are also part of the greater Toyota empire. Toyota owns a good chunk of Fuji Heavy, so Subaru is part of the family – in a way.

Subaru will produce its own version, probably called the BRZ. Both companies also developed the car together, and that must have been an interesting exercise. Recalls Tada:

“The first year was actually quite tough. The character and processes of the two companies are quite different. In the beginning, we sat down and decided who does what. That didn’t work out very well, because of the cultural differences between the companies. When people started to become more interested in the car itself, people from both sides ended up becoming one team. In the end, it wasn’t so much Toyota doing this and Subaru doing that, but people working together with one goal.”

In the maniac, well, enthusiast scene, it is pretty much gospel that the cars use Subaru’s flat four “D4-S” boxer engine. Depending on whom you believe, the production engine ranges from a tried & true to a refined & modified D4-S. That elicits protests from Tada, as loud as the softspoken man can manage:

“No,no, no – it is a completely new engine. The engine is still a boxer. The technology, even the engine block are completely new. Everything is new. The only thing that remained are the mounting points.”

Imagine how much engineer’s pride that one did cost. A completely new engine was developed. At the same time it comes with an invitation to be swapped for whatever follows the Subaru bolt pattern.

After years of concept cars, the production version of the FT-86 will debut at the Tokyo Motor Show, December 2 – December 11, 2011. “Next year” (most likely in spring), the car will be launched. It won’t be available in Japan first and years later elsewhere. It will, says Tada, be available next year “all over the world.” In the U.S., it will definitely by a Scion. In the rest of the world, it will be a Toyota.

Jack Baruth and Sajeev Mehta equipped me with a long list of questions. After Tada’s initial admonition that we can talk about everything except specs and price, I didn’t have much hope for answers, but nonetheless, I tried. The following Q&A ensued:

“Can you tell me the weight?” “No.”

“Can you tell me the horsepower?” “No.”

“Can you tell me the weight distribution?” “No.”

“Can you tell me the price” “No. It will be affordable.”

“Suspension?” “McPherson, double wishbone.” And a smile.

And so it went while Tada was conspicuously consulting his watch, signaling that time, patience, or both are running out. All I could do was to use the old investigative reporter trick, put two versions on the table, and ask which one is close. I used the crowd-sourced specs from the fountain of knowledge.

Tada eye-balls both. And gives his verdict. See above.

Last question time!

“Mr. Tada – is it true that you compared the color of the FT-86 to the ass of a monkey?”

Ooops. The Chief Engineer covers his mouth in feigned shock and explains that he indeed had experienced “some trouble” after magazines had written that he indeed had compared the car’s color to a monkey’s derriere. He quickly adds that he had referred not to just any monkey, but to a genuine Japanese monkey, those amicable animals that visit hot springs in wintertime, with icicles dangling from their furs – parts of Japan’s storied heritage.

And that’s not all, says Tada. The FT-86 red can also be compared to the world famous Japanese sunset (no sunrise is mentioned) and to the dragonfly. In Japan, the dragonfly is a symbol of courage, strength, and happiness – it even symbolizes the whole Japanese archipelago.

So there you have it. The FT-86 is so customizable, so tunable, so hot-roddable that it gives you a choice of associations triggered by its color. Depending on your mood, you can pick sunset, dragonfly, or an entirely appropriate greased monkey. As long as they are Japanese.

Most driving enthusiasts have written off the entire Camry line as the poster child for dull driving appliances. But those who overcame their prejudices and took the 2007-2011 Camry SE for a spin discovered surprisingly firm suspension tuning and, with the V6, a smooth, powerful engine. The most courageous even tried to spread the word. Encountering an anti-Camry diatribe, they’d respond, “But what about the SE?” For 2012 there’s a new Camry. An earlier review covered the overall changes and specifically the non-sport, non-hybrid variants. And the SE?

The Camry SE once again receives a bespoke exterior. For 2012 the side skirts are less aggressive, but the front fascia is more so. Especially welcome: the regular Camry’s chrome grille is given the heave ho. The four-cylinder’s five-spoke alloys appear a little undersized. The V6’s racier 18s more completely fill the wheel openings and look better in person than in photos. Overall the tweaks make the SE a more attractive Camry (such things being relative—little lust is likely to be incited), but I continue prefer the more complex (if also more commonly criticized) curves of the 2011.

With most Camry interiors, there’s a choice between beige and gray. In contrast, the SE’s interior continues to be offered only in the coolest or hottest of hues (depending on whether we’re speaking figuratively or literally): black. (Waiting for red, or even brown? Keep waiting.) With the 2007-2011 Camry, the dark shade helped obscure the poverty of the interior plastics. While this is less necessary with the 2012, the effect remains welcome. But the #1 reason to opt for the SE trim: the front seats. For 2012 the regular Camry’s buckets have been stripped of anything resembling lateral support. The SE’s seats have much larger, more closely-spaced side bolsters that comfortably and effectively cup one’s lower torso. A power-lumbar adjustment is standard, avoiding the lack of lower back support in the LE. Missed: rear air vents are available only in the XLE. Happily not missed: unlike last year, the rear seat folds to expand the trunk in the SE. Apparently they felt that the revised body was stiff enough without adding additional bracing.

The 178-horsepower four-cylinder engine does a decent job of motivating the Camry. But the sounds it makes don’t encourage frequent exercise, so it’s a poor fit for the intended character of the SE. I was only able to spend a few minutes with the sweet 268-horsepower V6, and intend to more completely review it once I can get one for a week, but for enthusiasts it’s clearly the way to go. Though unchanged since 2007, the V6 continues to match competitors with its effortless power and surpass them (and especially the Hyundai turbocharged four) in terms of sound and feel. Compared to the 2011, the SE V6’s curb weight is down 63 pounds (to 3,420) but the final drive ratio is a little taller, so acceleration remains about the same.

Fuel economy is up, especially with the four, which now leads the segment with EPA ratings of 25 MPG city, 35 highway. The V6’s 21/30 can’t quite match the Sonata 2.0T’s 22/34.

A funny thing has happened with the suspension tuning. For 2012, the regular Camrys receive slightly firmer suspension tuning and improved suspension geometry, so they handle with considerably more precision and control than before. At the same time, the SE’s suspension has been softened relative to the 2007 SE’s (the last year I drove one). As a result, the sport model’s ride is no longer borderline harsh, but its handling, while marginally more taut than the regular Camry’s and similarly more precise than the previous generation SE’s, is a less dramatic step up. With both ride and handling, most of the difference comes from the tires. Compared to the regular Camry’s Michelin Energy rubber, the SE’s Michelin Primacy tires (17s with the four, 18s with the V6) clomp more loudly and firmly over tar strips while sticking much better and with less fuss in hard turns. Even with the performance treads the Camry and I didn’t quite meld.

Engine choice makes a big difference. The V6 adds 180 pounds, all of them in the nose, and you feel every one of them in the heavier (but at least equally mute) steering. This difference is a mixed blessing. The SE V6 feels more solid and jiggles less, but it also feels heavier and less agile. As with all 2012 Camrys, the silky low-speed feel that has distinguished the line for the last two decades is much less in evidence, apparently a victim of the pursuit of higher EPA numbers, better handling, or lower costs.

Overall, the 2012 Toyota Camry SE is a better car than the 2011. The interior is much improved, body motions are better controlled, and fuel economy (Toyota’s primary focus with the redesign) has improved. But, as with the regular Camry, some chassis refinement has been given up. The biggest problem, though, concerns the cars’ character. The four-cylinder SE goes about its work with admirable precision and control, but feels soulless. Add in the buzzy four, and the car just isn’t involving. The V6 adds a healthy dollop of thrills, but in my brief drive its additional mass seemed to dull the car’s handling. Though handling is generally my top priority, if I had to have a Camry (and no other car) the SE V6 would be an easy choice. I’d recommend the same choice to non-enthusiasts not interested in the hybrid for the SE’s more cosseting seats alone.

But no one has to have a Camry. Even with its more dramatic suspension tuning, the 2007-2011 SE failed to break through most enthusiasts’ prima facie rejection of the Camry. With its less overtly sporting character, the 2012 is unlikely to do better. Toyota should not be surprised by this rejection. We were told about their active participation in NASCAR, which this year includes the Daytona pace car (which was brought to the Camry launch event). But, as Volvo has also discovered, if you build a brand around practical concerns (in its case safety) it’s very difficult to then market performance-oriented variants. Toyota primarily pitches the Camry as a safe, dependable, economical, “worry-free” appliance. To then turn around and sponsor fuel-guzzling, maintenance-intensive, potentially deadly race cars will, at best, have little impact. At worst, car buyers could become confused and wonder what Toyota and its best-selling model are really about.

Toyota provided fueled and insured cars along with a light lunch at a press event.

Michael Karesh operates TrueDelta, an online provide of car reliability and fuel economy information.

]]> http://www.thetruthaboutcars.com/2011/08/review-2012-toyota-camry-se/feed/ 51 http://www.thetruthaboutcars.com/2011/08/a-tale-of-two-three-more-camrys/ http://www.thetruthaboutcars.com/2011/08/a-tale-of-two-three-more-camrys/#comments Thu, 25 Aug 2011 16:05:11 +0000 Bertel Schmitt http://www.thetruthaboutcars.com/?p=408751

Apparently, this is Camry week. TTAC has already thrown two of its most feared and revered auto testers, Michael “Hard  Plastic Killer” Karesh and Alex “Yellow Fever” Dykes, into the battle – with similar, yet finely nuanced results. Yours truly has arrived in Tokyo, where he cools his heels (as much as a thermostat set to electricity-saving 82F allows,) until the JDM Camry is unveiled on Sept. 5 to by then totally Camry-numb members of the media.

Alas, your correspondent of the car wars has left China too early, because the global Camry conflict has shifted to the Middle Kingdom, which finds itself in search of the core Camry character.

Our MrWhopee (which I hope is a riff on “making whoopee” and not on the same-named cushion) opined that the reviewed Camry is “sold in U.S. only, the rest of the world (well, at least Asians) got different look Camry.” After the admonition to use “Asians” a bit more sparingly (they are – sometimes fiercely – proud of their differences, and despite alluring alliterations, one rarely sees Camrys created for Caucasians) – it seems that Whopee is right! At least in a large part of “Asia” called China.

Chinacartimes reports that “it seems that the Chinese Camry and the US Camry will have some minor differences when they both make it to dealerships.” Says CCT:

“The Chinese one seems to have minor changes around the front fog lights that has turned them from diagonal into sweet little round buttons, on the inside the two Camry’s look quite similar, but look closely at the central area and you will see that the GPS buttons are different and the Chinese version doesn’t have any drinks holders. The Communists stole our drinks holders!”

(The writer – I can attest to that – loves his drinks, so I will not editorially touch his “drinks holders.”) Now are these the only items that are different? TTAC’s image analysts have provided side-by-side views of official Toyota Camry (U.S. spec) and utterly unofficial Toyota Camry (Chinese spec) imagery, and in the wise words of Fox News: We report, you deride.

But whoa, that’s not the only difference! If Chinacartimes is correctly informed, “Two Camry’s will also be sold side by side in the Chinese market, the older Camry will become known as the Camry Classical.” That would not be unusual. In this part of “Asia,” people are prudent, and they just hate to throw away perfectly serviceable stuff, such as previous gen platforms.

In ten days, we’ll know what Camry-incaration will be sold in that other part of “Asia,” called Japan. There, they absolutely despise anything that is “boro-boro” (tired, worn out, old) and they always go for the latest “hayari” (craze, fad, fashion).

I never thought I’d have to look whether buttons are round or on the egg side of things, but I guess this is how it – shapes up.

Back in 1994, I bought a brand new Toyota Camry. It drove like an underpowered Mercedes with an advanced sixteen valve, four-cylinder engine. Unbelievably quiet, refined, and durable beyond compare. The Camry offered a level of quality back then that most other automakers couldn’t match at even twice the price.

This good news spread throughout the land. Within eight years, everyone in my family along with millions of other new car buyers had a Camry or a Lexus ES300 in their garage. By 2002, Toyota had made the Toyota Camry a gold standard in the American marketplace and annually decimated the rest of best selling car rankings. The Camry was dominant, price aggressive, ubiquitous, and even hated.

Hated it was first and most of all by those enthusiasts who always lust for a mainstream car that can offer more thrill. If your desires were more on the pistachio and less on the vanilla side of things, the Camry was not for you. As Jim Press, when he still was at Toyota, used to say: “We make the best vanilla there is.”

Then there was a mainstream backlash. De-contenting and quality related recall issues gave a number of competitors an opportunity to convert the Camry faithful. Not to mention those who had yet joined the Camry fold.

Toyota had already been losing the conquest of non-Toyota owners due to the outgoing generation’s staid styling and it’s near-SUV like massiveness. The recent recalls and quality issues did hurt. Since 2008 Camry sales have collapsed while Fusion, Sonata and Altima have all gained ground.

The Toyota Camry has a tough road ahead. Can this brand new 2012 Toyota Camry LE carry on a once proud tradition of outclassing the competition? Or is it simply just one of the herd? The truth is…

Toyota is no longer in a dominant position. The new Camry offers a lot of virtues that the old model could not satisfy. It still does not excite.

The exterior has become trim and handsome in a way that is eerily reminiscent of the 2002 – 2006 generation. The front offers a slightly sporting pretension very much in line with today’s combination of sharp creases and low cowls. Side profile is contemporary without being bloated. The rear has removed the bloat, and to be frank… it’s a nice mainstream design. Nobody will reject the Camry for it’s good looks.

When you get into the driver’s seat, you have all the features of a nice vehicle circa 2011. The seats have good side bolsters. Toyota’s new Entune multimedia system allows you to perform a slew of modern commands and conveniences. From getting movie tickets. To getting directions and restaurant reservations. To letting you use your cell phone in a hands off by integrating your phone’s features and contacts with those of the Entune’s wireless system. Toyota will even upgrade this system as new features become available… and the system’s ease of use is commendable. Nobody will reject the Camry for it’s multimedia features.

The interior offers many of the elements of Toyota’s better selling models. The thin stitching of the dashboard is carried forward from the Lexus CT200h while many of the controls seem to be derivative of other upscale models like the RX and Highlander. The steering wheel is nice, thick, and has a quality feel to it. To be frank, the only weaknesses in the interior are the wafer thin wood and aluminum accents. Along with the cheap plastic buttons that surround the standard sound system controls and optional Entune system. A weakness that is shared with every one of the Camry’s modern day competitors. Nobody will reject the Camry for it’s interior quality. It leads the midsized segment.

The Toyota Camry will hold the line well at $22,500 for the LE version which is $200 cheaper than the outgoing model. The 2.5 iter 4-cylinder engine offers 178 horsepower along with a class matching 28 combined mpg (26 city / 35 highway). 10 airbags, a long list of vehicle safety control systems, and an anticipated 5 star NCAP and IIHS safety rating will likely make the Camry LE a class leader. Nobody will reject the Camry based on the specs.

The handling and suspension tuning is also at the head of the pack. The outgoing model didn’t do Toyota any favors when it came to attracting buyers seeking some sport in their drive. The new model is a tour de force. There is a precision in handling, and a flatness in the cornering, that is as unexpected as it is alluring. If Toyota were the only one offering this level of performance in today’s marketplace, it would be 1994 all over again (albeit a 1994 Camry SE). Nobody will reject the Camry based on how it drives. But then again…

The Camry has a lot of competition: Altima, Fusion, Optima and Sonata, just to name a few. The Altima 2.5 and Fusion SE offer comparable specs to the Camry LE without the reputation baggage of being the car of choice for older folks.

Are they better cars? Time will tell. But even with the Camry offering better fuel economy and safety than either Ford or Nissan models, and comparable real world handling, the Fusion and Altima will continue to be perceived as more sporty and youthful than the Camry. Still, some people might reject the Camry for it’s reputation as an ‘older persons’ car. Even if the content measures up.

The Optima and Sonata have the added advantage of price and warranty. The Sonata and Optima are approximately $1800 cheaper if you look headlong into the MSRP. When you start looking at features and advantages, the deficit narrows considerably. But in this marketplace the price advantage is partially one of perception. A car that seems to be the better deal may be chosen over the better car.

Then there is the warranty. Toyota only subtly acknowledged the recent recall issues during the press event. Paying stronger attention to the vast reduction in inventory from 250,000 cars to 113,000 due to the tsunami. That is not what shrank Camry’s marketshare from 18.8 percent in 2009 to 13.8 percent today.

The reality is that a 10 year / 100,000 mile warranty offers a lot of peace of mind for folks who are looking beyond the Camry. The Hyundai/Kia models do turn off some buyers who don’t like the more aero and European look. On the other hand, the design has been a net plus with both vehicles now selling at their manufacturing capacity in a depressed market. Still, some people might reject the Camry for other cars offering a more European design and a longer warranty.

Overall, I believe the Camry LE will lose some folks who want the ‘sporty’ car along with all the usual virtues of a class leading midsized sedan (high content, safety, and reliability). It will inevitable lose sales to the Hyundai/Kia juggernaut that now offers a better warranty and a cheaper price. Who knows? It may even lose sales to the next gen Malibu? Or the Passat which offers an authentic European reputation wrapped up in an all-American design?

The Camry will not lose any sales to any of these current competitors in the one metric which matters most. Is this Camry the better car? Time will tell on the long-term measure of durability and owner satisfaction. But when you look at the overall fuel economy, safety, reliability, and comfort of the Camry, the answer will likely be an emphatic yes.

The 2012 Camry LE should inevitably overcome the baggage of the recent past. It’s a great car that doesn’t turn off most of the mainstream buyers who seek ownership contentment for the next 10+ years. It’s a bullseye…. among a midsized segment that seems to attract more bullseyes than ever.

The year: 1992. The rental car: the then-new third-generation Toyota Camry. My father was surprised how much the car drove like his Lexus LS 400, it was so smooth and quiet. While enthusiasts might deride the Camry as an appliance, it had this, and for the last two decades has served as the midsize sedan segment’s benchmark for refinement. Despite dull handling and an interior that grew cheaper with each redesign, sales increased, to the point that the Camry has been the best-selling car in the U.S. for 13 of the last 14 years.

But with competitors more stylish, more powerful, better-finished, and even poised to pass the Camry in refinement, the Camry increasingly trades on past accolades, incentives, and a reputation for reliability. Consequently, younger drivers go elsewhere, and the average buyer has hit the big 6-0. Many have bought their last car. To maintain its leadership, the Camry must improve. With the 2012 redesign, does it? (This review covers the regular Camry. The SE and Hybrid will be evaluated separately.)


Time was, Toyota entirely revised its cars every other generation. But the 2012 Camry is the third generation on a platform that dates back to the 2002 model year. Exterior dimensions are unchanged, and interior dimensions increase by only fractions of an inch. Consequently, the Camry remains considerably smaller than the Honda Accord, the Mazda6, and even the new Volkswagen Passat. But many buyers have rejected the Honda and Mazda as too large; for them the Camry was already the right size.

Toyota notes that every exterior panel is new. At first glance the midsection looks much the same, though a closer study discovers simpler surfacing. The ends of the car have changed more dramatically, giving up their Banglesque curves for boxier shapes. Neither striking nor laden with controversial flourishes, the new exterior recalls the Camrys of the 1980s and 1990s in its utterly forgettable inoffensiveness.

Criticisms of the 2007-2011 interior clearly hit home, for Toyota has upgraded the Camry’s cabin for 2012. The instrument panel top has stitching in a contrasting color molded into it (a technique also employed by Buick and Lincoln), some other surfaces are somewhat soft to the touch, the instruments have a more sophisticated appearance, and the doors feel more solid when opened and closed. Though plenty of hard plastic lingers, the thin velour seat fabrics verge on chintzy even in the XLE, and the “stitching” molded into the trim pieces flanking the lower center stack (why?) could not be less convincing, the overall effect is a substantial step in the right direction. Not class-leading, but solidly average. The hard plastics feel solid and none of the switches screams cheap. The controls are easy to reach and generally intuitive.

The seating position and perceived roominess of the Camry have changed much more than the minimally changed interior dimensions suggest. The base of the side windows and especially that of the windshield seem higher and more distant. Part of this is real, but the interior panels have also been reshaped to provide the appearance of a roomier interior, with more horizontal lines, sharper corners where the doors and instrument panel meet, and fewer intrusive curves. The seats also seem to have been repositioned. The downside: forward visibility takes a modest hit in the front row and a more sizable one in the second row.

About those front seats: they’re larger and less contoured. Better for regular patrons of Old Country Buffet, less supportive for the rest of us. In the LE, the non-adjustable lumbar support is lacking, with a small bulge high up the seatback. The power lumbar in the XLE helps, but also hits a little high. The rear seat, perhaps the segment’s roomiest a decade ago, can’t match those in the Honda and VW for limo-like legroom and sits a little low. Rear air vents are only fitted with the XLE. Trunk room is much more competitive.

With an intense focus on what car buyers are willing and unwilling to pay for, and perhaps on minimizing first-year glitches as well, Toyota has carried over last year’s 178-horsepower 2.5-liter four-cylinder and 268-horspower 3.5-liter V6 engines. Meaning no direct injection, but the Hyundai Sonata and Kia Optima are the outliers here. Everyone else is in the same ballpark with their fours. Others’ uplevel engines kick out just a few more horses—is there an industry-wide gentleman’s agreement to limit midsize sedan buyers to 280 horsepower? (Not that it would make sense to channel much more through the front wheels alone.) Paired as before with a six-speed automatic, even the four is easily quick enough for most drivers. The manual transmission has been dropped, but the automatic is manually-shiftable in all non-Hybrid Camrys. The four’s shakiness at idle and buzziness when revved are larger issues. Winding the four out gets the job done, but is more irritating than exciting. Those seeking a smoother, much better-sounding engine should, as before, opt for the six.

Car buyers have put a higher priority on fuel economy than horsepower in recent years, and Toyota focused its efforts accordingly. Toyota cut curb weights (by 117 pounds for the four, 63 for the V6), smoothed the underbody, thinned the oil, raised the final drive ratios, fitted electric-assist power steering, and so forth to pick up a few tenths here, a few tenths there. The end result: EPA ratings of 25 city / 35 highway for the four, up from 22/32 last year, and 21/ 30 for the V6, up from 20/29. The four’s numbers are best-in-class (for now), tying the Hyundai Sonata on the highway and beating it by one in the city. Toyota claims best-in-class honors for the V6 as well, but this somehow ignores the Sonata 2.0T’s 22/34. A BMW-style instantaneous fuel economy gauge and attending row of green LEDs attempt to encourage more fuel-efficient driving, but they often swing wildly following a lag, so I found them of little help.

So far, incremental rather than game-changing improvements, but improvements nonetheless. The chassis changes are iffier. Revised suspension geometry reduces body roll and improves body control, while low-effort steering helps the car feel lighter than it is, almost agile. But the old car has a more fluid, natural feel. Steering is part of the difference. Though the old system was hardly chatty, the new, electric-assist system is light on-center and, though it weights up as the wheel is turned, provides hardly any feedback.

Then there’s ride quality. Especially for those first few feet and at low speeds, the last few generations have felt like they were gliding down the road. Well, this silky, cushy feel that has been a Camry highlight since 1992 is all but gone. Though large bumps are absorbed with more control than before, the small stuff is no longer almost entirely filtered out and the ride is more jiggly over patchy pavement. Toyota seems to have benchmarked the Ford Fusion or Honda Accord instead of the other way around. Toyota claims the new car is quieter, but my ears beg to differ. Sometimes objective measures are one thing, and the subjective experience another. The new Camry has the character of a “numbers car.”

Apparently aware that the incrementally improved, conservatively styled new car isn’t going to take the world by storm, Toyota has cut prices for every trim level save the loss-leader L, in one case by $2,000. Standard content reductions will likely offset much of the reductions; details to come. Toyota also touts the Camry’s storied reliability, pitching it as the “worry-free” choice. This remains to be seen, but with so many parts carried over, including the engines and transmission, bugs should be few and minor.

In the end, while the new interior is a definite improvement, efforts to improve fuel economy and handling, and perhaps to also cut costs, have robbed the Camry of a key distinguishing strength. If my Lexus-loving father rented the 2012 Camry, he’d notice…nothing. The new car isn’t coarse, but it’s no longer the segment benchmark for refinement. With their own redesigned midsize sedans on the way, and the Toyota and VW of years past in their crosshairs, Chevrolet and Ford will now vie for this title.

Toyota provided fueled and insured cars along with a light lunch at a press event.

Michael Karesh operates TrueDelta, an online provide of car reliability and fuel economy information.

How does one test drive a car that is only available in India? In my case, easier done than said. I took the train from Yugawara three stations to Mishima.

Then a bus up a windy road, and between Mount Hakone and Mount Fuji, Indian cooks, Indian curry, and Indian cars awaited me.

Did I say Mount Fuji? Sure did: The Indian cars are from Toyota. And they were at the Fuji Speedway, one of Japan’s two F1 circuits. The race track is owned by Toyota, and they don’t like to talk about F1, because they had exited the sport last year.

Last December, I wrote about the Toyota Etios, Toyota’s car for third world domination. Now, it was ready to be driven. On the Fuji Speedway. I think last time someone from TTAC was here, it was Stein X Leikanger, who drove a Lexus SUV. Perish the thought of barreling down the track and setting new kita no rūpu (that’s tortured Japanese for “Nordschleife”) records in a 1.2 liter 80 hp hatchback or a slightly better engined 1.5 liter 90 hp sedan. The test drive took place on Toyota’s driver training facility, tucked into a corner of the speedway.

The Etios is a car that stands third world production on its head. Usually, carmakers try to foist current or preferably former generation models onto emerging markets. When roads are bad, as they sometimes are in those markets, the cars are jacked up a bit. If the market wants more rugged cars, mild mannered family mobiles receive faux wood trim, all season tires, a roof rack, and a woodsy name.

The Etios is none of that.  It is a SUV in family car clothing. It has a 170mm (6.7 inch) ground clearance. It has skid plates to protect the underbody from the rigors of unpaved roads. Made for hot India, it doesn’t have cupholders. It has huge water bottle holders, seven of them.

And it has a huge cooled – no, one cannot possibly call this 13 liter cavity a “glove compartment” – it has a huge cooled whatever with room for eight more bottles.

The cool comes from a monster air-conditioning unit the size of a small car engine. A duct punched into the “glove compartment” turns it into a refrigerator.

Inside, the car is roomy. It is built for five ruggedly-built Indians. In a pinch, and breaking all rules, it probably would seat seven skinny Japanese.

The car even has a little shelf space in the dash where to put the appropriate driving deity. A Toyota branded statuette of Ganesha, the cheerful, food-loving god of travel is available. (From a Japanese view, this is nothing unusual. Japan also has gods for everything. My personal favorite is the Tanuki, the god of restauranteurs.)

The engine – well, what do you expect?  A French team that edits Akibaranews.com managed to kick the car into making sporty noises, and to squeak around the rubber cones while they shot the video above.

Martin Kölling, Japan correspondent of the German version of the Financial Times, complained that he “had to stay in third to get the car to 100 km/h” (62 mph). Ran Kim, the Japan auto industry correspondent for Reuters Tokyo, drove around the circuit “mostly in 5^th gear” in the mild mannered Japanese way. Driving styles are worlds apart, and this is a car for another world.

The Etios sedan had been on sale (but not immediately available) for six months and had sold 37,000 units, more than Toshihiro Takeda, manager of Toyota’s India product planning group, had planned for.

We also saw and drove the Etios Liva, the hatchback version of the Etios.  It was launched just a few weeks ago in India, and received 1,400 orders in the first four days.

The cars were introduced by Etios chief engineer Yoshinori Noritake who explained that Toyota  started in India, because this country provides the biggest challenge: Competitive, geared towards cheap cars, the bulk of which provided by Suzuki, a market that holds Toyota in high esteem, but thinks it is expensive.

“If we are successful here, we will be successful in other emerging markets,” said Noritake, adorned with a sporty red polo shirt.  Officially, those other emerging markets are a secret. The Etios will be exported from India to other undisclosed locations (figure South East Asia). It is an open secret that Toyota engineers in Brazil are working on a Brazilian car based on the Etios platform. There are less reliable rumors that Russia might be next.

First and second world auto writers might wrinkle their noses at this car. But it definitely can be a serious player where the action and growth is: In the emerging markets. Ultra-low-cost cars, such as the Tata Nano, usually are a very transitory phenomenon in these markets. They might get people off their scooter and under a roof. But eventually, people will demand a real car with room for bags and the family, and one that doesn’t advertise “I can’t afford something bigger.”

In a far away corner of the facility stood the competition of the Etios. Two Suzuki cars, one from Tata, all three with huge “No photograph” signs on them. I kept a respectful distance.

The Etios will give the competition something to think about.

Every time I drive a hybrid – EVERY time – someone asks: “so where do you plug it in?” It’s as if more than 10 years of hybrid sales in the USA have gone by without the public knowing that a hybrid is not an electric car. Finally, however, Toyota has announced there will be a hybrid Prius on sale in the US where the answer isn’t “um, you don’t, the gas goes in over there.” Now the answer will be: “you plug it in up here and put gas in back there.” Yep, the 2012 Plug-In Prius is coming, so be prepared for blank stares as passers-by try to process the information. Toyota tossed us the keys for a week’s drive in a pre-production version so we could see what the hype is all about.

In 2010 Toyota kicked off their plug-in program by sending 150 Prius-Plus-Cords to the USA. All are powder blue, all destined for the press, commercial or government fleet use. Toyota has been cagey about how much the 2012 plug-in will cost and exactly when it will appear in showrooms, but the online rumor mill tells us the premium will be $3,000-$5,000 and we should see them before the year is over. The price difference doesn’t buy you bigger motors or fancier interiors; the only real difference lies in the battery pack under the carpet in the trunk and the software under the hood.

A regular Prius uses a 1.3kWh nickel metal hydride (NiMH) battery pack, the same technology that powered my first 1990s cell phone and my Apple Newton, the plug-in Prius uses lithium-ion cells, the same thing that’s in your trendy iPad2. Of course trendy batteries cost a pretty-penny, but they also pack a bigger punch: capacity is up from 1.3kWh to 5.2 kWh in the plug-in. Rather than popping in a single larger battery, the plug-in actually uses three packs all hidden under the cargo area. There is one small pack with a similar capacity to the regular Prius and two larger packs with a capacity of approximately 2kWh each. When charged, the Prius will first discharge the two larger packs, and when the car drops out of EV mode it uses just the smaller pack and runs just like a regular Prius.

In addition to the capacity bump, the new pack allows a higher discharge rate than the NiMH pack and that’s important. What does this mean in English to a regular Joe? It means that the new Prius can operate electric-only in every-day driving, even up hills at speeds up to about 50 MPH while accelerating normally and up to about 70MPH if you are ginger on the pedal. The cost of this electric-only fun will run you some $0.50-0.60 depending on your electric rates and, unlike a Leaf it won’t take you all day to charge going from empty to full in 3.5 hours on 110V or 1.6 hours on 220V.

Inside, the Prius is the same as always: the dash still wears wavy-patterned hard plastic, the 1980s modern disco-dash is still in the center, and the overall theme is still focused on weight reduction. Indeed the only interior difference is the EV icon on the dash, a charger under the passenger seat, and the bigger battery in the trunk. Despite the changes, the plug-in Prius weighs only slightly more than the standard model as lithium batteries weigh less per KW than the nickel units, so even though capacity is up 400%, weight is only up 100lbs or so.

OK you say; it has a bigger battery, so what? Well, with that bigger battery you store electricity that was (hopefully) generated more cleanly than the Prius’ onboard gasoline engine can muster. If you live on the right or left coasts, using your household electricity would (supposedly) result in lower CO2 emissions, if you are into that sort of thing. Since you’re adding electric mojo to the mix, your gasoline usage will of course be reduced on your daily commute. Here’s where the disclaimer “your mileage may vary” has never been more appropriate. ABC News Polls claimed in the results of a 2005 survey that the average American commutes only 16 miles a day. Our own informal Facebook poll revealed similarly short commutes for our followers. I however commute 109 miles a day (because I’m insane). Because of my commute, my first reaction to the 14-mile range was: it wouldn’t make enough of a difference. 14-miles? Who cares? Right? Well, here’s how it worked out for me:

Starting with a full tank of gasoline and a charged battery, I made it from home at 1,100ft above sea-level to the 2,250ft mountain pass on the fumes of electrons and then started downhill. First thing I noticed on my way down to sea-level on the other side is; the larger battery pack in the plug-in provided greater capacity for regenerative braking, a real benefit on my terrain as a regular Prius fills it’s battery to capacity before I am 1/3 of the way down. At 20 miles from home my commute-route turns from mountain terrain to flat highway. By this time, the engine had run for brief moments with negligible fuel consumption resulting in some 130 MPG average. This is where most Americans would end their day. At 30-miles my average had dropped from the high triple digits to a (still) lofty 96 MPG. At 40 miles, my average dropped to 93 MPG, 50-miles came in at 85mpg, and by the time I reached work (54 miles later) my economy dipped to 83.4MPG. That’s the point of the larger battery.

Just to verify my mileage calculations were grounded in reality and not based on some optimistic ECU, I topped off the Prius at the gas station around the corner from the office and my informal calculations bore out the ECU with an estimated 82.5 MPG. (Gas-pump mileage calculations on such a small quantity of fuel are difficult, so keep that in mind) How does this compare to a normal Prius? On my same journey in a regular Prius I averaged 52.9MPG, and the plug-in Prius with a discharged battery averaged 55.6. Why the difference? The plug-in’s larger battery pack seems to take greater advantage of regenerative braking on my mountainous commute.

My round-trip commute average, only charging at home resulted in an average of 72MPG meaning my commute of 109-miles required only 1.5 gallons of gasoline. I tested a regular Prius on the same commute and it required 2.1-gallons for the same journey. Meaning for me, it would take 5-8 years to pay off with the expected price premium of $3,000-$5,000. Is it worth it? Let us know in the comment section. As fate would have it, two weeks after the Plug-in-Prius, GM loaned me a Volt for a few days. With a full battery charge and an EV range of 40-miles, the Volt averaged a startlingly low MPG average of 48 on this same 109-mile trip primarily because the economy after the battery ran out averaged a paltry 30.1MPG. Comparisons to the Leaf are tricky since the Leaf is electric only, I’ll let you draw your own conlusions.

Out on the road, the plug-in handles just like a regular Prius: the low rolling resistance tires deliver moderate road noise and precious little grip in the twisties. If you have ever wondered why hybrid drivers drive so slow around corners, it’s the rubber to blame. The steering is numb and a bit over-boosted, body roll is average and acceleration is leisurely. The Prius’ mission is efficiency rather than driving pleasure, so keep that in mind before you trade-in your 335i. The one area the plug-in differs from the regular Prius is acceleration. When the battery is fully charged you have to exceed approximately 3/4 throttle to involve the gasoline engine. Even in mountainous terrain gentle-to-average throttle is met with only the light whine of the electric motor, an experience you can only get in a plug-in or fully-electric vehicle. If you treat the pedal gently, it is possible to break 70-MPH electric only, but that does mean you have to piss off everyone behind you on the freeway on-ramp. If however you drive it like a normal Prius, then somewhere around 45-50 MPH the gasoline engine will turn on (this is accelerating at a normal pace to freeway speeds). Unlike a normal Prius which will use the engine for the majority of the locomotion, the plug-in lets the engine more-or-less idle when accelerating gently using the plug-in battery for most of the oomph. Contrasting back to the Volt, flooring a Volt with a charged battery doesn’t involve the engine [Ed: unless it's cold out or you're over a certain speed or the Volt's algorithms only know what else].

Since this is a pre-production car, we will have to wait until Toyota releases official pricing and produces a production car to assess final range figures and posit an opinion about whether or not it will be “worth it”. However on the face of things it looks to be a must better proposition than the Chevy Volt providing you some obvious mileage benefits and a possibly plausible pay-off date, something the Volt has trouble achieving. If you live in one of the 15 states where the Prius plug-in will be available, stay tuned for a full review when the production models start rolling off the line.

Toyota provided the vehicle, insurance and fuel for this review.

Not a fan of our Facebook page? Too bad. For our facebook peeps, here’s what you wanted to know: Eric R: nope, not possible. Brian J: Yep, I have to say I did feel green-superior while driving it, probably because of the “plugin” stickers on the side. Jamie F: It is more practical than a Leaf, but less “whiz-bang.”

Fuel economy average over 870 miles: 59.9

Percent of time in EV mode: 16%

Performance statistics as tested:

0-30: 3.42 seconds

0-60: 10.35 seconds (“regular” Prius: 9.5 Seconds)

¼ Mile: 17.7sec @ 77.9 MPH

Brand extensions aren’t common in the auto industry, perhaps because they rarely (if ever) succeed. Chrysler and Oldsmobile hyperextended the LeBaron and Cutlass brands, respectively, into oblivion. But Toyota has struggled as much as anyone to sell hybrids that aren’t named Prius, so it will now attempt to sell additional models under that highly successful nameplate. First up: the Prius v (with the lowercase v for “versatile”). How far and how effectively does a second model extend the reach of the brand?

Brand extensions require finesse. If the additional model is too different than the original, then it becomes unclear what the brand stands for. But if it’s overly similar, people wonder what the point of it is, if they become aware of it at all. The naming system of the new models suggests that Toyota is more likely to err in the latter direction. The original Prius and the new Prius v will later be joined by the Prius PHV (for “Plug-in Hybrid Vehicle”) and the more compact Prius c. None of these names provides much basis for an independent identity. With a Taurus X in my driveway, I’m painfully aware of the confusion that ensues when people hear a familiar model name with a single character appended. Most alphanumerics give people two or three characters to latch onto.

Worse, many people already consider their Prius a Prius V, with the V (in this case a Roman numeral pronounced “five”) denoting the top trim level. To avoid the absurdity of a Prius v V, Prius trim levels are now spelled out. So the top trim will be the Prius v Five.

The exterior styling of the Prius v similarly errs on the side of anonymity. Every exterior panel is different, and the new model is larger in every dimension (three inches more wheelbase, six inches more overall length, three inches more height, and about an inch more width). Nevertheless, few people will mistake it for anything other than a Prius with a larger, squarer rear end. Which is essentially what it is.

It took three generations, but the Prius eventually evolved into a somewhat attractive car (at least when fitted with the Five’s 17-inch alloys). With the new Prius v, we’re back to the ungainly appearance of the first two Prii (the official plural, as decided by a public vote). Engineers likely dictated the basic shape of the car, and left its designers little latitude to pretty it up. The Prius v’s interior is similarly significantly less stylish than that of the current Prius, with none of its artful curves.

This styling (or lack thereof) suggests that the Prius v is first and foremost about function. The stylish “flying buttress” center console of the regular Prius is absent. Instead, there’s a much lower, much less intrusive center console with open compartments for iPhones, purses, and such. The hood over the centrally located instruments is narrow, so the view forward is more open. To the side, the base of the side windows is more horizontal, while to the rear a much boxier rear end enables a taller, single-piece rear window. With all of these changes the Prius v feels more open and roomier, but also less stylish and less sporty. This could very well be a response to second-generation Prius owners who dislike the more encapsulated, “starship pilot” driving position of the third-generation car. In both cars interior materials are the hard plastics typical of current Toyotas, but they appear cheaper inside the Prius v. The silver plastic trim on the doors appears dated.

Like that of the regular Prius, the Prius v’s front seat is comfortable and provides more lateral support than 99.9% of economy-minded drivers will ever need. But the rear seat disappoints. Though it includes an inch more headroom and two inches more shoulder room, there’s actually a little less legroom despite the new car’s longer wheelbase and overall length. Worse, the seat cushion is lower to the floor, less comfortably shaped, and further compromised by front seats that (unlike those in the regular Prius) don’t have enough room beneath them for the rear passenger’s feet. Add up these shortcomings, and the Prius v’s rear seat is considerably less comfortable for adults than that of the regular Prius. Toyota’s product development organization dropped the ball here.

One factor: the car’s packaging had to allow for the cramped third-row seat offered elsewhere in the world. This third row isn’t offered in the United States because it requires a more compact but also far more expensive lithium-ion battery pack (in place of the standard NiMH pack). Only one buyer in twenty has been willing to fork over about $900 for the similarly limited third row in the RAV4 compact SUV. So a $5,000+ third-row seat would clearly have few takers.

With the rear seat actually less comfortable, it falls to the Prius v’s larger cargo capacity to justify its existence. The regular Prius has 21.5 cubic feet behind the second row and 39.6 with this row folded. Thanks to its longer, boxier tail, the Prius v slightly exceeds the latter figure even without folding the second row if you slide this row forward a few inches (a feature the regular Prius does not have). The average adult will still fit in this mode, just with knees grazing the front seatbacks. Sliding the rear seat all the way back leaves 34.3 cubic feet behind it. With the seat folded, 67.3. These figures, a substantial improvement over the regular Prius, compare well to the compact SUVs Toyota names as the car’s primary target. A folding front passenger seat would make the Prius v even more versatile, but one is not offered.

The Prius v’s 134-horsepower (98 from the 1.8-liter gas engine) hybrid powertrain is unchanged from the regular Prius. A shorter final driver ratio (3.70 vs. 3.27) compensates for the larger car’s heftier curb weight (3,274 vs. 3,042 pounds), so acceleration is about the same. As in the regular Prius, the powertrain mode makes a big difference. Select “eco” and acceleration is couldn’t be more leisurely. Though accelerating very slowly feels surprisingly good in the Prius v because the powertrain in this mode is so smooth and so quiet, the drivers in your rearview mirror clearly find the experience much less relaxing. In the default mode, the powertrain feels substantially more responsive, and in “power” it feels almost quick. Work the powertrain hard, though, and it makes quite a bit more noise and has the unnatural, non-linear feel common with a CVT.

EPA ratings are much lower with the Prius v, 44/40 vs. 51/48. The differences compared to the regular Prius aren’t large—a little less slippery (the drag coefficient is 0.29 instead of 0.25), a little more frontal area, a little more weight, a shorter final drive ratio—but they apparently add up, at least within the EPA’s lab. Perhaps the Prius v wasn’t as thoroughly tweaked to gain a few tenths here and a few tenths there?

Suspension tweaks for the Prius v focused on ride quality, and the car does ride more smoothly and quietly than the regular Prius. Handling, not a Prius strongpoint to begin with, is a little less sharp but still more controlled than with the first- and second-generation Prii. Understeer and lean in hard turns are moderate. The tires rather than the suspension are very much the limiting factor. When they slide they do so progressively and without much audible fuss. Given its role as an efficient appliance, the Prius v handles well enough. Those seeking a more involving driving experience should check out the similarly functional, similarly efficient Volkswagen Jetta SportWagen TDI.

Since the Prius v shares its powertrain and many other parts beneath the skin with the regular Prius, reliability should be excellent. Prius owners participating in TrueDelta’s Car Reliability Survey have consistently reported very few repairs. Critics of the car have often stressed the danger of expensive battery pack failures, but these are hardly ever needed before 150,000 miles. A new battery pack runs about $2,500, but people have paid only a few hundred for packs out of wrecked cars with low miles.

Toyota hasn’t yet announced pricing for the Prius v, but suggests it will cost only be a little more than the regular Prius. The difference had better be $1,000 at most, for the Prius v doesn’t offer much more than the regular car. There’s significantly more cargo space, better outward visibility, and a less constricted driving position, but fuel economy takes a hit and the rear seat is surprisingly less comfortable. The Prius v doesn’t risk damaging the brand—it’s too similar to the regular Prius for this—but since the car is essentially a Prius wagon it’s hard to see why Toyota went through the trouble of developing an all-new exterior and interior. With a largely clean sheet and more inches to work with, why aren’t the exterior and interior more attractive, and why isn’t the rear seat much roomier? Unlike with the regular Prius, no one was swinging for the fences. The Prius v certainly isn’t a bad car, but it is nevertheless an opportunity squandered.

Toyota made this vehicle available for review at a regional launch event. A pre-production review can be found here.

Michael Karesh operates TrueDelta, an online source of automotive pricing and reliability data.

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Once upon a time Japanese cars came to our shores promising high fuel economy and despite feeling small and cheap, buyers flocked to the dealers. Over time however, the Japanese auto industry grew up. “Small and flimsy” are qualities that modern Japanese imports do not possess but as is the way with the world, better quality came with a price: lower fuel economy. The first generation Prius proved that good fuel economy did not mean jamming yourself into a two-seater light-weight vehicle full of compromises a family of four just couldn’t make. Still, it was far from perfect; it was dreadfully boring, felt small and cheap and was not large enough for many families.

In an era when ginormous SUVs were all the rage, the Prius’ mileage was nothing short of show-stopping and they sold like hotcakes once the Hollywood set made them the latest fashion accessory. When the third generation Prius saw the light of the automotive press, it was obvious that the upstart had grown up. Unlike the other Toyota family members however, the Prius becomes more efficient and larger with every revision. One complaint however has stuck: the Prius is just too small for some.

To show us how versatile Toyota’s Prius platform can be, Toyota invited us to the press preview of the Prius V (pronounced “vee” not five). The shape is familiar to anyone overseas as the V is known as the Prius Alpha in Japan and the Prius + in Europe. What is the V? It’s basically a Prius Wagon, but Toyota would prefer we just called it the largest and most versatile Prius on the market. It’s not a crossover because it retains its car-like ride height and FWD based hybrid drivetrain.

The biggest change from the Prius Alpha that has been exciting the green bloggers for a few months is the lack of a third row seat in the American Prius V. Toyota tells us that less than 5% of RAV4 buyers choose the third row option citing their research that buyers interested in a third row opt for the Highlander. Still, this seems like fuzzy logic to me since a buyer that is seriously interested in a 40+ MPG hybrid wagon is really going to be happy stepping up to a large SUV. Prius shoppers have always marched to a different drummer and may just be happy with jamming two extra passengers in the cramped back seat to save some MPGs. The real issue is a lithium-ion battery pack is required to make the 3rd row possible, and in the Prius +/Alpha, Toyota stashed a portion of this battery in the center console making the overseas models a little shy on storage space. Toyota claims that the EPA rating of the lithium-ion Prius would not have been any higher than the NiMH version either making it just more expensive in a market that just wants to jumbo-size their Prius combo for 99-cents.

Our brief encounter with the V started on an unusually sunny Monterey afternoon. We were paired up and sent off on a 98-mile road course, and like good children we shared the wheel-time. Toyota graciously allowed me an additional 40 miles of solo time to explore the car and a brief photo shoot.

Inside the V, the Prius family resemblance is obvious with many of the parts lifted right out of the liftback. Rather than just inflating the sheet metal and calling it done, Toyota chose to introduce a new three-color instrument cluster that is far more readable than the one in the liftback and some new soft-touch panels on the dash. Fit and finish was adequate, but as we were driving a pro-production vehicle I expect the final product to have these wrinkles ironed out.

The rear seats in the V are the biggest difference compared to the liftback, providing about three-inches more leg room along with seats that recline up to 45-degrees and can be moved forward/aft. The increased dimensions mean that it is possible to comfortable fit two rearward facing child seats in the rear with normal-sized parents up front. In addition to kid-friendly rear seats the V delivers more cargo room than 80% of small SUV/CUVs on the market in the US including the Escape Hybrid, Equinox, and Jetta TDI wagon. Even the payload capacity seems beefy at 1,056lbs. Just keep in mind that you still have to motivate that additional ½ ton of weight with the same 134HP as the regular Prius.

During our short stint in the V, we averaged 40.1 MPG in mixed driving which jives with the newly announced EPA estimated numbers of 44/40/42 (City/Highway/Combined) compared to the liftback’s numbers of 51/48/50, this is a 16% reduction for a 60% increase in usable cargo space and decent improvement in passenger space. The difference in fuel economy is largely due to the V’s larger profile, longer wheelbase, additional weight (230lbs) and less aerodynamic profile.

Pricing has not yet been announced, but we expect it to ring in around $26,000 base price based on Toyota’s statements that the V will command a price premium over the liftback. Toyota only expects to sell some 25,000 examples in the USA, but I suspect the take rate could be higher. Be sure to check back with TheTruthAboutCars.com for a full review including comparisons when the production model becomes available. In the meantime, if you have any review suggestions, post in our comment section or on our Facebook page and let us know.

Toyota provided the pre-production Prius V, one night’s stay at a swanky hotel in Monterey and the $10 admission fee to the “17-mile drive.”

In a normal world, an automaker wants to time the announcement of a new car just right: In time to build anticipation. Not too early, because that would hurt sales of last year’s models. In Japan, they keep things simple and have the press event the day the car goes on sale. Today, I was at a press event in Tokyo that celebrated the Prius Alpha, a bigger, roomier minivanish Prius that can seat 7. If you’d order it today, you would get your car in a distant future, in April 2012. No typo. 11 months from now. Next year.

Welcome to the new world of post-tsunami car launches.

When asked today when the car will be delivered, Chief Engineer Hiroshi Kayukawa said: “Well, we are trying to get our production up and in order, and having received so many orders in advance, we want to do this as quickly as possible, and it looks like it’s going to be April 2012.”

Instead of a tsunami, a ripple ran through the audience, assembled in a pavilion in the garden of the Tokyo Prince Hotel, where the members of the media were treated to the first samples of hot and humid Tokyo weather with the A/C turned to barely bearable. Perspiration for a powerless nation.

That’s how Prius Alpha is written correctly, by the way, hold the trademark suits, Alfa.

“You said April twothousandtwelve?” asked an incredulous reporter. “Is that related to the earthquake crisis kind of thing? Is that the problem?” Under fire, the Chief Engineer says: “Well, ok, now, originally we were planning to launch this in late April. The launch event has been set back a couple of weeks. So in that sense, there is a direct relationship to the natural disaster. However, in terms of actual production, we have all the parts lined up, we are ready to make it.” More flabbergastedness.

Here is what we could unearth at the sidelines of the first launch event of a car that will become available a little less than a year later: The Prius Alpha will be made at the Tsutsumi plant in Toyota city on line 1. On the same line, the Prius and other sedans are being made. There is such a backlog of orders for the Prius and other cars that the fabulous new guy Prius Alpha will have to take a number and wait for its turn.

And it’s getting even more complicated, as are a lot of things in the post-tsunami age. 25,000 orders for this car had been received, and some of them may already have been filled, I heard today from Toyota spokesman Dion Corbett. I told you it’s complicated.

But if I would go down to my neighborhood Toyota dealer in Tokyo and say “sumimasen, I’d like to buy that new Prius Alpha,” I would be told to expect delivery sometime in April next year.

The U.S. launch, originally planned for June this year, most likely will become a victim of this situation. But who knows, maybe the Prius Alpha will be launched in the U.S. in June, and will arrive at dealerships see volume shipments arriving in May 2012? Now mind you, this was a JDM event, and great pains were taken not to talk about anything American (or European, for that matter.) All speculations are strictly mine.

If the March 11 earthquake could shift the main island of Japan by 8 feet, you can be sure that it will cause many other shifts. Including many extra shifts.

PS: Toyota U.S.A. said later in the day “that the Prius v is still on track for delivery to U.S. customers this fall.” The Prius Alpha will be called Prius V in the U.S.

It’s not every day that an automotive blogger gets to drive the future of transportation, a radical rethinking of how we interact with our private transport, and yet that’s exactly what I recently did. And no, I’m not talking about the Prius Plug-In Hybrid (PHEV)… that’s just a Prius with some larger batteries and re-worked software. No, what makes our time with this particular Prius noteworthy is that it isn’t technically private transport. Welcome to the future: the public plug-in hybrid (PPHEV).

This Prius Plug-In is not some press-fleet hack, nor is it a carefully-fettled launch vehicle, but a publicly-accessible, real-world test fleet vehicle that Toyota uses to gain insights into how its evolution of the Prius holds up to the rigors of regular use. Toyota has produced some 600 Prius PHEVs, and has delivered about 150 to different testing partners around the US, who are helping the Japanese automaker test its first lithium-ion battery-equipped plug-in ahead of regular production sales, which begin in 14 US states in 2012.

This particular model is one of two operated in Portland, OR, by the car-sharing firm Zipcar. As a publicly-accessible plug-in vehicle, this is one special Prius; after all, as TTAC has explained, private ownership of EVs is a problematic proposition. The biggest issue with buying a plug-in: batteries degrade significantly over time, raising the specter of killer depreciation. As a result, the more conservative automakers like Daimler and BMW are looking at Zipcar-like car sharing schemes for their forthcoming EVs. But, as we found, publicly-shared plug-ins aren’t exactly a silver bullet either.

The major problem with shared EVs? Like Blanche DuBois, they rely on the kindness of strangers. When we showed up at a Portland State University parking structure to pick up our Plug-In Prius, its mobile charging unit was plugged into a 120V outlet, but its charging plug lay on the floor next to the decal-wearing Prius. So much for a full test of the Prius PHEV’s electric range and fully-charged performance then… but the experience was an important real-world lesson in the downfalls of EV-sharing. And as the industry transitions towards greater electrification, business model innovations are as important as technological breakthroughs. So what’s worse: wallet-melting depreciation, or total dependence on the last driver’s conscientiousness?

In the case of the Prius, at least the forgetfulness of Joe College Student won’t leave you stranded. Had I rented a Nissan Leaf or a similar pure-EV from Zipcar, I would have been as good as stranded with less than a third of the battery left. Instead I got a as many miles as I wanted of relaxed hybrid driving. Not only is Toyota’s decision to rigorously test its PHEV in public vindicated by our experience with the uncharged Zipcar, but its decision to incrementally improve the Prius rather than leaping into a pure EV also delivers a far more practical vehicle for handling the downsides of car sharing.

Unfortunately, the decision to evolve the Prius also means there’s not much to report in terms of driving impressions that a jaunt in a regular Prius wouldn’t have covered (whether fully-charged or not). When fully charged, the Prius PHEV gets a claimed 13 miles of pure-electric driving before switching into EV mode, a feature that Toyota say plays well with car-sharers who typically take short trips. With less than a third of the Li-ion battery’s charge remaining, we got less than a mile of silent running before heading up into the hills above Portland, when the PHEV kicked into the mixed-hybrid mode that Prius owners know and love. Strangest of all in a vehicle that wears its electric credentials all over its sheet metal: there’s no “EV Mode” button as in the standard Prius.

And, as it turns out, we weren’t missing out on too much pure-EV fun anyway. Over the last 2,790.6 miles driven by our Prius PHEV, EV mode was only used some 15 percent of the time, and in our time with it (granted, without a full charge) it took a seriously light foot to keep it running on Grand Coulee Dam current. The Prius PHEV’s gas engine kicks in early and often as its 650-Volt electric motor’s 153 lb-ft of torque struggle to motivate all 3,130 lbs (about 240 lbs more than the standard Prius), at all but the most leisurely speeds. Only in “Power” mode, does the Atkinson-cycle gas engine woof with conviction, giving the Prius PHEV the kind of acceleration that won’t leave your buttocks clenching uncontrollably on freeway on-ramps. In “Eco” mode, the Plug-In resists every pedal application until just shy of WOT, when it finally booms into action. Strangely, “Eco” Mode doesn’t seem to make accessing electric drive any easier.

So, what kind of mileage can you expect from the Prius Plug-In? We will have to hold a more thorough test (once we figure out how to ensure the thing is fully charged when we pick it up) for definitive results, but the PHEV’s on-board computer indicates that, like the Volt, the Prius PHEV is as efficient as you want it to be. For short trips of 26 and 29 miles, drivers received about 60 and 75 MPGs respectively. A longer trip of 54 miles returned near 99 MPG, indicating a near-delta of distance and efficiency. After all, the farther any PHEV is driven, the worse its mileage becomes, as evidenced by 50 MPG results for two “trips” of 440 miles and 2,296 miles. Of course, none of these numbers are exactly scientifically verified, but short there are numerous reports of Prius PHEVs returning in excess of 99 MPG on short trips, with long-range mileage dropping to regular Prius levels (or even lower, thanks to the extra battery weight). In any case, we will certainly be testing the Prius PHEV again with an eye towards obtaining a better sense of its mileage capabilities (and of course we will report Toyota’s official test data when it becomes available later this year).

But despite the fact that we weren’t able to take home solid efficiency numbers, we learned a few important lessons from our time with the Prius PHEV. For one thing, ride sharing will not be a viable alternative to EV ownership until operators learn how to require users to plug in vehicles when they’re done. For another, until plug-in enforcement takes place, the Prius PHEV is the plug-in to share. Under similar circumstances, a Nissan Leaf would have been effectively stranded and a Chevy Volt would have returned only slightly better than 30 MPG. Also, the Prius’s uninspiring but wholly competent performance is unchanged by the addition of extra Lithium-ion batteries. And between its joyride-inhibiting handling, modest power, anodyne styling and easy-to-use, minimalist interior, the Prius was already the straight-out-of-a-vending-machine car of the future.

The Volt beats the Prius PHEV for efficiency if you typically drive between 13 and 40 miles between charges, but then the pure-electric Leaf is the plug-in commuter of choice for green conscious consumers with a sub-100 mile commute. Otherwise, the Volt handles considerably better than the Prius PHEV, has a handy regenerative “low gear” and its performance feels less computer-strangled… but the Prius’s (likely) lower price, superior interior space and design and better efficiency over long-distance trips could well make it the more practical, flexible choice. But until we test a production car, that’s all speculation. For now, car-sharing programs looking for some green-car hype have only one real choice… and given how inconsiderate some car sharers can be, it’s a pretty good one.

]]> http://www.thetruthaboutcars.com/2011/02/quick-review-toyota-prius-plug-in/feed/ 37 http://www.thetruthaboutcars.com/2010/12/review-2011-toyota-avalon/ http://www.thetruthaboutcars.com/2010/12/review-2011-toyota-avalon/#comments Wed, 29 Dec 2010 21:37:41 +0000 Alex L. Dykes http://www.thetruthaboutcars.com/?p=379020

Panthers get a lot of love here at TTAC, but my automotive soft spot is actually for big, softly sprung front-drive sedans. When I bought a brand-new Chrysler LHS back in 2000, I probably single-handedly dropped the average age of the LHS buyer by double digits. I can’t say exactly what the attraction was, but there’s something pleasing about wafting around in a big, smooth sedan with just enough get-up-and-go. Around the same time as Chrysler attacked the large front driver market with the LH platform, Toyota was getting into the full-size arena with the Avalon.

But, just as the LHS tended to live in the shadow of the 300M, Toyota’s full-size model has always suffered from its little brother’s success: the Avalon never stood out enough to tempt buyers away from the (none too cramped) Camry and its smaller price tag. Now, tackling Buick, Ford and Hyundai rather than Chrysler for the large FWD sedan market, Toyota has given the Avalon a thorough going-over with the goal of distancing the near-luxo-barge from its mass-market cousin. But will this makeover help the “forgotten Toyota” reclaim some spotlight?

After more than 15 years into the game, the Avalon now looks less like a “stretched Camry” than ever. Designed in Toyota’s California styling studio, the Avalon’s new look is more harmonious than its predecessors’, although it’s still a study in subtlety compared to something like the Buick LaCrosse. From the outside the revised front grille and headlamps echo the Lexus look at least as much they do the mid-market Camry. Out back, LEDs and light pipes combine to make something I would never have thought possible on an Avalon before: an attractive rear end.

Another way to distinguish the Avalon: consolidating the available trimlines and option packages trim lines to two models with high levels of standard equipment and relatively few options. The base car gets standard Bluetooth, steering wheel audio and climate controls, XM Radio, USB and iPod connectivity and leather seating.. The Avalon Limited adds keyless-go, HID headlamps, heated and cooled front seats and a power front passenger seat to the party. Starting at $32,445 in base trim and $35,685 for the Limited trim, our Limited trim tester came equipped with the only factory option on offer: the $1,450 navigation and up-level sound system.

Beating under the hood of the Avalon is Toyota’s corporate 3.5L V6. For Avalon duty, the 3.5L engine is equipped with dual independent variable valve timing “with intelligence” which reduces emissions to California ULEV status and helps the engine to deliver 268HP and 248lb-ft of torque (at 6200RPM and 4700RPM respectively) while feeding on regular 87-octane gasoline. Though the engine may not seem overly sporty, the relatively light curb weight of 3572-3616lbs (depending on options) means that the Avalon will scoot to 60 in a TTAC verified 6.2 seconds which is non-too-shabby for the full-size sedan market. For the sake of comparison, the Buick Lucerne when equipped with the thirsty 4.6L V8 took 7.7 seconds to get to highway-speed.

Inside, Toyota has replaced the frumpy dash of the 2010 model with a much more Japanese looking “second hump” to contain the optional navigation LCD, climate control and vents. While passenger opinions were mixed, I have to say the look worked for me, as does the fake-metal trim surrounding the radio. This same faux-metal can be found in the cockpit of the new Subaru Legacy, but in the Avalon it’s applied more liberally and with more taste. Sadly the plastic wood trim that the doors and portions of the dash are covered with is fairly terrible. Chrysler’s K cars had more convincing wood trim. It’s a pity that Toyota chose not to make the brushed aluminum-look-alike trim available instead; I’d certainly pay extra for that look.

If you have seen any Avalon TV commercials lately, then you know that Toyota’s biggest selling point for the Avalon is the rear seat. The commercials use an airline motif describing the rear accommodations as 1950s jet-set airliner travel quarters. I am glad to say that the rear thrones are far more comfortable than airplane seats, the recline feature however has about the same range of motion as the last Southwest Airlines flight I was on. I am disappointed to say the stewardesses were not included with our test car.

And though the rear recliners are nifty, I would gladly give it up for the utility of a folding rear seat, even it if was limited to the center 20% section. Otherwise, the rear of the Avalon is huge ginormous. The Avalon is one of the few vehicles that could transport four American football players in comfort, or for a more family-friendly metric: three child seats abreast in the rear. Speaking of those kiddies, parents will be happy to know the Avalon has snagged the IIHS top safety pick award in 2010 (for the 2011 model).

Out on the road the Avalon yields relatively few surprises. The chassis delivers a compliant ride that is more smooth and refined than I would have expected from a long wheelbase Camry. Although wind noise is higher than any of the Lexus models, I’d submit that the highway ride quality is closer to the Lexus LS than the Toyota Camry. When the road gets twisty, the front wheel drive platform and somewhat narrow rubber remind you that you are driving a premium full-size front-wheel-drive sedan, not a sports sedan by any measure. Torque steer may be limited, but so is grip with the all-season tires that are standard on both Avalon trims. In an odd twist however the handling of the Avalon feels very confidant and well balanced, no doubt due to the low curb weight. While I can’t imagine many Avalon buyers will try to pass on curvy mountain roads, it is possible to do so.

Let’s talk competition: The Buick Lucerne has escaped the executioner’s axe for yet another year but is seriously long in the tooth. The Northstar V8 sounds pleasant but is low on performance and two cogs short of the competition with its ancient 4-speed automatic. I was unable to find official figures, but when equipped with the ancient 3.9L V6, it is safe to say that 0-60 times are north of 8 seconds. The closest real competition for the Avalon can be found in the Hyundai Azera. The Azera boasts a lower price tag ($32,980 similarly equipped) but unlike the rest of the Hyundai line that is earning raves from the automotive press for the stunning new designs, the Azera’s interior and exterior fail to impress. On the other hand, a new Hyundai Azera and its Kia cousin are coming, and though the LaCrosse is a bit smaller, it won’t be confused with a Camry. But if, as history indicates, size, smoothness and subtlety rule this segment, the Avalon has a safe future.

At the end of my week with the Avalon I was actually sorry to see it go. The Avalon is the type of car that Toyota executes to perfection. The car may be low on soul, but it offers comfort, value and the promise of above average reliability in a form that will never set your heart on fire, but won’t turn your nose after a few years either. New car shoppers seem to forget the Avalon exists despite the bevy of campy-TV ads Toyota has been airing over the past few months, which is a shame the Avalon might just be the best full-size sedan for sale at the moment.

Toyota provided the vehicle, insurance and one tank of gas for this review

“This could be Toyota’s iPod,” said UK’s Fifth Gear. The iQ is Toyota’s (some say much smarter) answer to Daimler’s Smart. But the trouble is: The iQ is only available in Japan and Europe. Its impending arrival in the U.S.A. has been announced many times. More on that later. While in Japan, I wanted to test-drive the smallest car of the world’s largest automaker. But first, there were huge obstacles to overcome.

I don’t have a driver’s license. Technically, I don’t.

While discussing the test drive, I was asked whether I’m properly licensed, and I proudly produced three licenses: German, American and Chinese.

Not good enough for Japan. In Japan, you MUST have an international driver’s license if you don’t have a Japanese license. That international driver’s license is simply a translation of your license, and usually a waste of time and money: Show a foreign cop the thing and he either waves it away and wants to see the real one. Or he arrests you: Some countries, such as China, insist that you get their license, or a driver.

Japan is an orderly country, and don’t even think of walking up to a rental counter without an international driver’s license. And don’t go to Toyota and want a test-drive.

In the time it took me to figure out that I can simply go to downtown Tokyo, spend an afternoon and 3,000 yen at the JAF, the Japanese version of the AAA, and walk away properly documented, the friendly folks at Toyota had already figured out something else: They have a closed course down at the docklands of Tokyo, and if I come early and chaperoned by someone of their PR department, they would waive the license requirement. This time.

Coming early meant taking using Tokyo’s fabled public transport system during morning rush hour. There is no better preparation for the test of a city car than being squeezed into the JR train with millions of other sardines. After that, even the smallest car will feel spacious.

The car to be tested turned out to be a recently face lifted iQ. The trim of that model has a slight problem. It is hard to type. It’s called iQ with an arrow behind it. As in iQ → . Because “iQ with an arrow behind it” is a bit cumbersome, the Japanese usually call it “iQ Go.” The iQ Go is supposed to be a sportier version of the iQ. It can be had with the Super CVT-i continuously variable transmission, or with a six speed manual. They gave me the CVT version. According to the rumor mill, this will be the version that will show up stateside as the Scion iQ (and hopefully not as the “Scion with an arrow behind it”) if and when the iQ shows up stateside.

You should always approach an iQ carefully. It’s easy to trip over it. This car IS SMALL. Small on the outside. Inside is another story. My chaperon sized up my 5 foot 8 figure, and said: “The Chief Engineer of the car is taller than you.”

And indeed, after I hefted my slightly overweight frame into the car, I sat pretty and comfortable. When you adjust the seat to the proper driving position, it nearly touches the rear bench. The front passenger sits slightly ahead (and in Japan to the left) of you, and can still stretch his or her legs. This provides enough legroom for the backbencher behind the front-seat passenger. Daimler has a Smart ForTwo. Toyota has an iQ of 3+1: Three grownups and a baby. Or a few shopping bags.

Speaking of bags: Don’t even think of bringing any luggage if you fill the iQ with three grownups plus one. The luggage space behind the hatch of the iQ barely fits a thin attaché case and a newspaper, as long as the paper is not the weekend edition.

And again, the car demonstrates its superior iQ: If you want to go on a weekend trip with wife, or hot date, you flip the split rear seatback forward, and presto, space for his & her (small) suitcases, but no room for any witnesses.

By the way: Small size does not diminish your safety. The iQ has a 5 star rating from Euro NCAP, the whole complement of electronic gadgetry, and you are surrounded by a whole army of airbags. There is even an airbag for the rear window. Just in case.

The Toyota iQ Go is powered by Toyota’s 1.3 liter 1NR-FE Dual VVT-i engine that makes 93hp and converts 1 liter of precious gasoline into 23.5 km. Converted to U.S. specs, that’s 55 mpg (non-EPA.) The 1.3 liter engine produces 101 grams of CO2 per kilometer. If you want to have the green creds of under 100 grams, then you need to get the 1 liter version. It produces only 99 grams, but also only 67 hp. A whole lot of other interesting technology comes in that small package, too much for a capsule review. Refer to the Fifth Gear video. They explain it pretty nicely.

Speaking of videos: YouTube is chockablock full of videos that demonstrate one of the iQ’s finest features: It’s parkability. Despite being a few inches longer than the Smart ForTwo, its turn radius is tighter.

But how does it drive? Honestly, the closed circuit is no high speed test track, and the IQ Go is not turbocharged. It did fine for the city conditions under which I drove it. (If you want to take the car for a virtual spin, there you go.) In Japan, you can buy an “iQ GAZOO Racing tuned by MN.” If you can find one, limited 100 piece edition. It comes with the same 1.3 liter engine. Buying the Aston Martin Cygnet, which is mechanically identical, won’t get you more oomph either. The iQ is what it is.

And now for the big question : When can you have it stateside? The Unofficial Guide To The Scion IQ by Toyota had it on good authority that the car would have been available in the U.S. last September. September went by, the U.S. remained devoid of iQ. Later, Autoblog reported that “Toyota representatives expect it to hit dealer showrooms around March of next year.”

Well, I had my very own Toyota representative right (well, left) next to me, and I asked:

“So, when will it come to the U.S.?”

Shrugging of shoulders.

A few minutes later, I parked the iQ (not with the élan shown in the videos, but effortless no less) and I asked: “Will you go to the Detroit Motor Show?”

“Sure.”

“Will the iQ be on display?”

“Look over there! A Toyota Century! It probably has its name because it gets redesigned once in a century. Hahaha! Do you want to drive it?”

Sometimes, you’ve got to know when to stop asking. If you see a Scion iQ in Detroit, you know it will come.

The Toyota iQ Go as tested starts at 1.6 million yen (including Japan’s consumption tax, $19,300 at today’s rate.) With leather, the price goes to 1.7 million yen ($20,500 incl tax.)

Disclosure: Toyota provided chaperon, closed track, car and less than a liter of gas.

One of Toyota’s best selling cars, with cumulative sales exceeding 3.5 million units since its first-generation launch in 1999, and with sales in more than 70 countries around the world, is the Vitz.

The what?

Well, Vitz is what the car is called in Japan. You will probably know it better as the Yaris. The first generation Vitz was sold as Echo in some markets. Now it’s Vitz in Japan and Yaris in most of the rest of the world.

Today, Toyota showed the 3^rd generation Vitz (Japanese spec) to the Japanese press in Yokohama.

As I had already been in the neighborhood, I popped in and checked it out. Dozo.

About half of the worldwide production of the Vitz is sold in Japan. The Vitz is Toyota’s top-selling gasoline powered car in Japan (the top-top selling car is the Prius hybrid.)

In Japan, the Vitz is duking it out with Honda’s subcompact-class-leading Fit and Nissan’s March. With the new Vitz, Toyota wants to give Honda a fit.

With so much at stake, Toyota laid on a big event at the Osanbashi Hall, right on Yokohama’s cruise ship pier. Akio Toyoda himself, assisted by chief engineer Hirofumi Yamamoto and goateed design group manager Takeshi Goh introduced the car.

When asked what he thinks is the perfect car, Akio Toyoda answered: ”This is the topic of my life. But it is not for me to say. The perfect car is decided by the customer.” Toyoda’s solution to the dilemma? “That’s why we try to give the customer many choices.”

Goateed Goh has designed a little edgier Vitz/Yaris, with sharper corners than its slightly rotund predecessor. Goh praised the “smiling face” that becomes Toyota’s full frontal signature design. Goh talked about the challenge faced by A-Class designers around the world: How to build a car that is small on the outside but large on the inside. He managed to squeeze 35 mm (1.3 inches) more space into the Vitz.

Chief engineer Hirofumi Yamamoto had been faced with a much bigger dilemma. The Vitz/Yaris became infamous for its body roll, especially at higher Autobahn speeds. This trait coined two expressions in Toyota-speak: “Buru-buru” and “hyoko-hyoko.”

The former is translated in a dictionary as “walk with a tremor,” the latter as “unsteady steps.” Again, we are amazed at the frank and open words of a chief engineer with the national press corps in attendance, and his boss keeling over with laughter.

But not to worry, Yamamoto-san says that both “buru-buru” and “hyoko-hyoko” have been eliminated in the 3^rd gen Vitz. Yamamoto has two years of European test drives to prove it.

Europe is the second largest market for the Vitz under the Yaris name. About 40 percent of the production is sold there. “The competition is tough in Europe, and the customers are demanding” says Yamamoto.

It will be a while until the Vitz-turned-Yaris will face the European competition and you can inspect the Yaris up close and personal. Although no official launch date is given, end of 2011 is probably a good guess. By that time, the Yaris should also be available in the U.S. and Canada. In Canada, the Yaris attracted quite a following, but nothing compared to Japanese and EU numbers.

In Japan, the Vitz has become the darling of the ladies. The new Vitz chases women even more than the previous generation model. That target group has become so important that Toyota established a special UV department, and its leader Ito-san praised the front windshield in the Vitz that filters out 99 percent of harmful UV rays. Japanese women are very protective of their skin, and use an umbrella more when the sun shines than when it rains. We doubt that that feature will make it to places where people are proud of their tan.

Two of the three Vitz trim levels (U, F, and RS) can be had in a special “Jewela” version that adds “exclusive body and interior colors and interior and exterior ornamentation with a plated finish to convey vibrancy,” all favored by the fashion-forward Japanese lady.

When the Vitz turns Yaris and lands on EU and North American shores, it probably will have lost its effeminate accents along the way, and will be available in more manly trims. In Japan, the male Vitz buyer is the target of a sporty RS version with a 1.5 liter engine.

Speaking of engines, the Vitz comes with a choice of three. There is the one liter 1KR-FE engine, a 1.3 liter 1NR-FE engine and said 1.5 liter 1NZ-FE engine. All engines are mated to a “Super CVT-I” (Super Continuously Variable Transmission-intelligent) transmission. The manly RS is the only Vitz that can be had with a stick. For the F1-feeling, the CVT-I version has paddle-shifters in the RS.

The 1.3 liter engine is Toyota’s secret weapon. It gets 26.5 km/liter (62 mpg, non-EPA), beating the March (26 km/liter) and the Fit (24.5 km/liter.) The 1.3-liter engine sports Dual VVT-i (Dual Variable Valve Timing-intelligent) and can be had with a super responsive idling-stop feature that restarts the engine in a third of a second – literally in a blink of an eye.

Japanese MSRPs for the Vitz range from 1,060,000 yen ($12,700) for the base 1 liter model all the way to 1,790,000 yen ($21,400) for the RS model.

The Viz comes equipped with all whizbang electronics such as EBD (electronic brake-force distribution), ABS, VSC (Vehicle Stability Control) and TRC (Traction Control). The navigation system is optional. People familiar with the Yokohama waterfront can inspect the picture and will receive proof that TTAC had actually been there.

Disclosure: I paid my own fare on the JR train for Frau Schmitto-san (who provided the cross-cultural edification) and myself. Toyota provided a free bottle of water.

On December 1, a B-sized sedan went on sale in India without a single car in the showroom. It is called the Etios, it is made by Toyota, and sight unseen, it already received 12,000 pre-orders as of today. Production of the Etios will start on December 20 in Toyota’s factory near Bangalore, India. Boring story so far?

While in Toyko for the rest of the year, I had a chance today to talk to Toyota’s lead engineer of the Etios, Yoshinori Noritake. And a much bigger story emerged: Toyota is engineering and building new cars, made for the special demands and targeted at the world’s new growth markets. Developed markets may not apply.

Noritake is a soft-spoken, humble man. None of the often arrogant hubris I grew up with in Europe and in the U.S. Dressed in a dark blue suit with a light blue tie, he explains that the Etios is not a car taken from the Toyota rack and sold in India under a new name. It is a brand new construction from the ground up. It is not even a car for India. It is Toyota’s car for the emerging markets, commonly called “BRIC.” As in “Brazil. Russia, India, China.” But it is also for the other populous markets that take the step to mass motorization.

“India is a competitive market,” says Noritake. “If we succeed in India, we can apply this in other markets as well.”

Noritake and his “BRIC” team of engineers studied India well before they designed this car. He describes India as a country with often narrow and bad roads, where people “lack driving manners”, where there is “intense competition at the traffic lights” and where “goats, cows, bicyclists and more coexist on the roads with cars that often have no rearview mirrors.”

He reports of “sometimes 8 people in a car” and “a number of other people that attach themselves to the outside of the car.”

He doesn’t say it, but he clearly indicates that in his mind, something like the Nano is not the right car for India. “People aspire to a real sedan with room for the family. They tell us they would like a Toyota, but our price is much too high.”

So Noritake and his team built a car from the ground up for the harsh roads, for the demanding passenger load, and at a price Toyota hopes the Indians will be able to afford.

The Etios is an amazingly roomy B-Class car, with a cavernous 595 liter trunk, and room for five. A lot of room for five. “You know, Indians are kind of big, at least compared to us Japanese,” says Noritake, and muses that the reason might be the menu based on oily curry. But indeed, the backseats of the Etios offer legroom otherwise found in a long version so popular in China.

And speaking of legs, “people in India often sit barefoot in the car.” Therefore, the metal underpinnings of the front seats have been armored with plastic coating to avoid injury of shoeless feet.

Toyota’s BRIC team truly sweated the development of the car. They drove prototypes for 200,000 kilometers (125,000 miles) on all kinds of roads in India and soon decided that the Etios needs the strongest A/C as standard equipment, with a galeforce airflow, preferably at full blast into the face of driver and passengers. The A/C is augmented by clean air filters to protect the passengers from third world dust.

“The dust in India is tremendous,” recalls Noritake, and a shudder goes through his lithe body. “You want to keep watered–up all the time.” Seven cup holders, make that seven one liter bottle holders were distributed to strategic points within the vehicle. Toyota punched a hole with a bezel into the wall that separates the glove compartment from the A/C duct: Bingo, a refrigerated glove compartment. Did I say “glove compartment?” This 13 liter deep carmoire keeps a healthy number of one liter bottles cool and protects a large shopping bag from prying eyes when the car is parked.

At the outside, the car sports a 170mm (6.7 inch) ground clearance, quite the standard (and necessary) for Indian roads. However, instead of jacking up existing models, that ground clearance is built-in. And it wasn’t enough: During their 200,000 km endurance race through India, debris on the road killed some essential lines at the bottom of the car. The production model received underbody-armor.

More improvements were inspired by firsthand experience: During the monsoon, Noritake and team were soaked when walking up to the car. Cellphone and keyfob died. The Etios production keyfob is now waterproof. As long as your cellphone doesn’t come from Noritake’s team, keep it in a Ziploc® bag during the Indian monsoon season.

The Etios is powered by a newly developed 1.5 liter 16 valve DOHC engine that produces 90 hp and has a torque of 132 Nm to give you an edge in the competition at the traffic lights. The transmission is a 5 speed stick.

Now for the price of the car Toyota hopes people will be able to afford. Well, it’s no Nano. The following prices were converted from rupees to yen by Noritake, and then to dollars by me, so please no discussion about purchasing power. Prices start at a little over $10,000 for the base, or “J” model, and go up to $14,300 for the “VX” model. There are two other trim levels (“G” and “V”) in-between.

“Naturally, this car is not just for India, but for other markets too,” says Noritake. Toyota plans exports of the vehicle, and “naturally, the platform can be adapted to other markets as well.”

Noritake puts great emphasis on having the right car for the right market. “Toyota has a global standard for its cars. The local necessities take precedence over this global standard.” The car for India doesn’t have to start in Siberian winters. An Etios made for the R in BRIC possibly doesn’t need a galeforce A/C, but a stronger electrical system.

Is the car crashworthy?  Noritake imparts the frightening news that India has no legal requirement for crash worthiness, but fear not, “we build the car to European crash standards.” He concedes that Euro-NCAP is complicated and in flux. “The Indian buyer may want to trade some airbags for space or lower price. In Europe, we’d probably need the full complement of airbags and a little work on the pedestrian protection.”

He doesn’t seem to be too keen on exporting the BRIC car to the developed markets anyway. When asked, he lowers his voice, says “I cannot comment – there could be a potential.” In other words: No. The BRIC car will remain a BRIC car first and foremost.

It’s a rugged car, but it’s not a street car in plaid clothing and faux wood. It hides its ruggedness under an elegant suit. The front seats are racing style bucket seats. A roomy $10,000 Toyota would be an easy sell in China, especially during those sandstorms. It would seat 5 beefy Russians in full winter gear. Most of all, it’s a real sedan, with a real and huge trunk, and that’s what people want when they have outgrown a cheap hatchback.

Toyota could be up to something with this car and further cars of that type. Other automakers used to ship previous gen tooling to emerging markets. Now, they just ship what sells at home, maybe adapted skindeep, or decontented. The BRIC car is nothing of that. It is not even available back home. It is built for and in the emerging markets. The Etios already has 70 percent local content, and when the engine is built locally in India in 2012, and the gearbox in 2013, only 10 percent of the parts will need to be imported, limited to “the ECU, some sensors and other small high reliability items,” says  Noritake.

Not just the people would love such a car, governments and local industry would love it too.

Disclosure: The fare from Kamata to Iidabashi was put on my personal Suica card. Toyota paid for the coffee. The car was a preproduction prototype, photography verboten.

After ruling the American roads for most of the 1990s and 2000s, the conventional midsize SUV has rapidly become an endangered species. GM, Ford, and others have abandoned the segment entirely. The Grand Cherokee, from its inception intended for more of an on-road role than other Jeeps, has become ever more refined and luxurious in a bid to survive. Nissan still offers the Pathfinder, but will it still be a conventional SUV if and when it’s redesigned? The Borrego? A mistake Kia won’t be making a second time. Only one company has had the guts and/or cluelessness to recently redesign a midsize SUV that is first and foremost an SUV. Could the 2010 Toyota 4Runner be the last of its kind?

While competitors have become more car-like with each iteration, the 4Runner has been moving in the opposite direction. Unlike the 2011 Grand Cherokee, the fifth-generation Toyota wasn’t intended to be pretty from any angle, and isn’t. Instead, dramatically chunky styling, upright pillars, and short overhangs proudly proclaim that it’s no crossover. Valets at fancy restaurants won’t be parking it in the front row, or even the second row.

The mucho macho aesthetic continues inside the 4Runner. Children and even shorter adults struggle to get in and out. You sense every inch of the 4Runner’s height when gazing over the vast expanse of the hood (actually visible) through the distant, upright windshield. You’re most obviously not in a car. Everything from the steering wheel to the shift lever to the door pulls to the secondary controls on the center stack is sized for Real Men. As with the Hummers that were likely an inspiration, heavy use of boombox-quality silver-painted plastic undermines pretensions to ruggedness. Within this environment, comfortably upholstered door panels are an unexpected surprise. A concession to commuters? Or to cushion elbows while traversing boulder fields? The large seats, though upholstered in leather, aren’t as cushy or luxurious. The first and second rows are roomier than in past 4Runners. A tight third row is available, but wasn’t present on the tested vehicle. Continuing a 4Runner tradition, the rear window can be lowered to let the breeze flow through.

The DOHC 270-horsepower, 278-pound-feet 4.0-liter V6 starts with a loud, old-fashioned roar—the cooling fan seems on by default. No V8 is available this time around, and unless you’re especially hungry for torque it’s not missed. Though down 20-horsepower compared to the 3.6-liter “Phoenix” V6 in the new Grand Cherokee, the Toyota engine feels considerably stronger, if not quick to react to throttle inputs. Curb weights are about the same (4,675 lbs. for the Toyota, 4,660 for the Jeep), but the Toyota mill has a stouter midrange and gets a boost from shorter gearing. The EPA ratings of 17/22 are easily attained. In suburban driving I mostly observed 16.5 to 18.5, with the occasional stint pushing 20. Not impressed? Remember that this is a heavy, conventional SUV with the aerodynamics of a barn, relatively short gearing, and wide truck tires.

The on-road handling is very much that of a conventional SUV. Live rear axle? Gone from the Jeep Grand Cherokee, Nissan Pathfinder, and Kia Borrego. Still here. The moderately light steering, though decently weighted, is numb and slow. The chassis heavily understeers initially, but thanks to the rear end’s greater propensity to lean transitions to oversteer as cornering forces build, prompting the stability control to aggressively intervene. (The Limited’s X-REAS suspension system, which hydraulically cross-links the shocks, might reduce lean and improve balance; the tested vehicle was an SR5.)

The most-definitely-not-low profile 265/70R17 Dunlop Grandtreks provide limited grip, though there’s enough to confidently take curves at their posted speed. (The Limited is shod with 245/60R20s, but if you’d prefer those then the 4Runner probably isn’t the right truck for you.) With so much evident mass in play, slides don’t stop quickly once they start. Driven quickly over severely disheveled pavement the 4Runner bounds and heaves, but otherwise rides smoothly, if sometimes with a touch of float. The tires are quiet for SUV treads, but can get a little noisy on concrete. Poor on-road handling by any objective measure, and yet a refreshing change of pace from anodyne crossovers. I struggle to remember what the new Grand Cherokee felt like, because it doesn’t feel like much of anything. There’s no such issue with the 4Runner.

Venture off-road, and suddenly the 4Runner’s throttle, steering, and suspension tuning makes sense. There’s little danger that the engine will provide more thrust than you’re asking for. Ride quality is excellent on dirt and gravel roads. Washboard surfaces? Not a problem. Manually shift into 4-Lo to traverse some deep ruts, and the steering remains undisturbed—so little gets through it’s uncanny—while the tall sidewalls and soft springs suck up impacts. The body structure feels rock solid throughout (as it should given the curb weight). Retain any doubts about the 4Runner’s intended mission? There’s a switch to disable the rollover sensor for the airbags. One slip: the molding around the rear wheel opening collects mud. Don’t want off-road-friendly tuning when on-road? Too bad. Unless you spend more for the Trail model, there’s no terrain-based mode selector like the one Ford and Jeep have cribbed from Land Rover.

With the latest 4Runner, Toyota made few concessions to the primary market served by SUVs during their boom. Want a midsize four-door SUV that remains every bit an SUV, for doing things that only a real SUV can do? Then this might soon be your only choice. Hate it? My wife certainly did. Then Toyota will gladly sell you a Highlander.

Toyota provided the vehicle, insurance and one tank of gas for this review

Michael Karesh owns and operates TrueDelta, an online source of automotive pricing and reliability data

My in-laws live in an Arkansas county that only received its first traffic light in the late 1990s. So it goes without saying that there’s no major airport nearby. Pay airfare for six then still need to rent a three-row vehicle and drive for a few hours? We simply drive the full 800 miles. Extend the route to include Nashville, Memphis, and Chicago, and could there be a better way to test the redesigned 2011 Toyota Sienna?

Manufacturers are well aware that exterior styling isn’t a high priority for minivan buyers. So with a minivan, designers are generally given a box and told to do what they can with it. In this context, the designers of the 2011 Toyota Sienna did well. Where the previous Sienna suffered from a droopy face and bland styling, the new one looks solid, bold, and even a touch sporty without the bloat that afflicts the current Honda Odyssey. Credit a higher, more horizontal hood, squarer greenhouse, and subtly sculpted bodysides. While not pretty the way the 1990s Chrysler minivans were, the new Sienna stands a much better chance of competing with crossovers. All of this said, hardly anyone over the course of two weeks commented on the new Sienna’s exterior styling.

Inside, the new Toyota Sienna’s designers appear to have enjoyed a bit too much freedom. As in other current Toyotas, the instrument panel appears overstyled, with many details that neither serve a purpose nor meld to form a coherent whole. What’s the point of the swoosh in the instrument cluster, and why is the gear indicator to the left of the speedometer? The shifter is, of course, to the right of the steering wheel. The way the faux wood sweeps across the dash might be interesting if it formed part of a coherent whole. As it is, it joins forces with the shifter to squeeze the HVAC controls into a narrow band that extends far beyond easy reach of the driver. Everything on the right side of the center stack, including the radio-tuning knob, similarly requires the driver to lean well out of position. A protruding center stack as seen in other minivans would greatly improve ergonomics, even if it would cut into perceived roominess.

Much of the IP and door panels are covered with the textured hard plastic that Toyota has been using in everything lately. It looks like hard plastic from ten feet away, feels like hard plastic, and clearly communicates that even with a copious amount of faux timber you’re not in a Lexus. But minivans tend to be abused vehicles, so the hard stuff is more defensible here than elsewhere.

Aside from the IP ergonomics, the 2011 Toyota Sienna’s driving position is excellent. The instrument panel has been raised just enough that you don’t feel like you’ve got nothing ahead of you as you rocket down the highway. It’s still plenty low to provide excellent forward visibility. With a much lower beltline than you’ll find in a crossover, visibility to the sides and rear is about as good as it gets in a vehicle this large. Compared to the Flex we drove last year, the Sienna is much easier to drive on Chicago’s city streets and in crowded parking lots. My wife also found the Sienna surprisingly easy to drive for such a large vehicle.

A rearview monitor helps when backing up. The monitor has both normal and wide-angle views. There could be a situation where the latter provides an advantage, but I didn’t encounter it.

The moderately cushy driver’s seat proved comfortable during 400-plus-mile stints behind the wheel. My lower back isn’t the best lately, but any soreness during this trip was the fault of some overly soft hotel mattresses. The driver’s seat also provides better lateral support than those in some supposed sport sedans. The active headrest does not jut uncomfortably far forward. Too many do these days, and this would have made a long drive unbearable. The perforated leather-wrapped steering wheel deserves special mention. It is unusually comfortable and almost too good for a minivan.

The center console includes a bin large enough to hold a two-liter caffeine supply, camera, and whatever else we cared to chuck in there. The nav system was less accommodating. You must be fully stopped to enter a new destination using the touchscreen, even if the weight sensor for the airbags registers a co-pilot. Want to find lunch while cruising down the highway? Then the tedious voice control system is your only option. A decent portable system is more handy.

The Sienna XLE AWD (tested) and Limited include recliner-style legrests in the second row. Being male, I was eager to try these out—hence the hour my wife spent behind the wheel (for some reason she hates to drive when I’m in the car). My main takeaway from these seats: minivans are going to get even less mini. Like the current Chrysler minivans, the new Sienna could use at least another six inches of length, and ideally a foot, to fully take advantage of its innovative seats. My inseam is only 30 inches, yet I had to sit behind my 5-4 wife AND slide the second-row seat nearly all of the way back AND empty out the map pocket AND remove my shoes to get barely enough room to use the legrest. I could not slide the seat all of the way back, because I had to leave a few inches for my young son’s skinny legs. When the second-row seats are all the way back they press firmly against the third-row bench. So for adults to fully utilize the second row, there cannot be anyone in the third row. Kids in both rows? Then no problem.

I learned other things from my stint in the second row. Relatively low front seats and generously sized windows make it easy to see out, so there’s none of the closed-in feeling you get in some crossovers. The ride isn’t nearly as smooth or quiet back there, no doubt because your inner ear is directly over the rear axle. Also because three kids are very noisy. Would a soundproof partition be too much to ask for? Driving on the shoulder (construction!) induced a repetitive rear end bounce-and-shimmy, which from the second row felt like airliner turbulence. The sunshades don’t cover the last few inches of the side windows, so you can still end up with sun in your face (I did). The rear HVAC controls are mounted far forward in the headliner—they appear to have lost the battle for scarce space along the window header. On the other hand, the rear ceiling vents are located so that my son could too easily reach one and direct it to blow cold air directly onto my sparsely covered scalp. Which was simultaneously cool and totally uncool.

Without the kids (or anyone else in the third row) on a smooth road the second-row lounge seats would be outstanding. You could nap, watch a movie, or even play a video game. The 16-inch screen is essentially a pair of 8-inch screens mounted side-by-side. Each side gets its own screen, but there’s only one player. To use the second screen, attach another player or a game console using the supplied AC outlet and A/V inputs. I almost brought along a Wii, but thanks to my sons’ inability to put things where they belong I couldn’t find one of the two controllers. Probably a good thing—I wouldn’t have wanted arms waving about in the rearview for 2,200 miles. In single-screen mode, the image can be set to various widths and either centered or positioned in the left or right screen. The wireless headphones have two channels.

Even without the second row all of the way back the third row is less roomy than in the previous Sienna, but it is at least higher off the floor that the third row in a crossover. The official specs suggest that legroom across all three rows is down a substantial eight inches compared to the 2010 Sienna. Some of this must be a change in how legroom was measured, but at least part of the decrease is real.

The third row does flop easily into a well to leave a large flat cargo floor. Even without stowing it there was plenty of room for our family’s luggage for two weeks. Stuffing the same amount of luggage into a Ford Flex last year was a challenge. My largest suitcase was swallowed by the subfloor well, which you won’t find in the large GM crossovers. So, aside from their full-size SUVs, GM and Ford no longer offer a vehicle that can compete functionally with the new Sienna.

The new Toyota Sienna is a couple hundred pounds heavier than the old one, yet for the first time is available with a four-cylinder engine, specifically a 187-horsepower 2.7-liter. The four manages a single additional MPG in the city, 19 vs. 18, and ties the 266-horsepower 3.5-liter V6 on the highway with an EPA rating of 24. The price difference is $1,240 on the base model, but only $620 on the LE. It seems Toyota doesn’t want to actually sell many four-cylinder minivans.

The tested Sienna XLE included another 205 pounds of all-wheel-drive handware, for a total of 4,735. Add in six mostly small people and their luggage, and the V6 was motivating 5,500 pounds. Assisted by the smooth six-speed automatic, it performed without strain even when ascending hills with the front and rear A/C blasting. This being very much a minivan, some will pooh-pooh the automatic’s manual-shift feature, but it does aid selecting a lower gear for steep descents and curves. We encountered no snowstorms in the mid-South summer, so I cannot attest to the all-wheel-drive system’s benefits aside from noting an absence of torque steer.

Observed fuel economy ranged from 11 in downtown Chicago to 18 in the suburbs and 21 cruising in the mid-70s on the highway. Jettisoning the kids and luggage and driving mid-60s on rural highways bumped the figure to 24. The EPA suggests that the front-wheel-drive Sienna would go a couple miles farther on each gallon. These figures are similar to those for GM’s and Ford’s large crossovers. They should further improve if and when Toyota fits the six with direct injection.

Even with the regular suspension (the SE model includes a sport suspension) the new Toyota Sienna leans moderately and understeers minimally when helmed through curves. Unlike in the Camry, the electrically-assisted steering isn’t overly light, loads up naturally as the wheel is turned, and even provides a bit of feedback. Add in good grip from the 235/55R18 run-flat tires and excellent forward visibility, and corners can be taken at speed with confidence. Not that all is perfect with the handling—bumps induce some float and bobble in the underdamped rear end, especially if the van isn’t heavily loaded. Ride quality is similarly very good but not perfect. Over most road surfaces the Sienna rides very quietly and smoothly, but over patchy roads the rear end gets a little busy, especially for people in the rear two rows.

Would the SE’s firmer suspension and lower-profile tires help, or hurt? Good question, but I haven’t the answer. Opting for the SE would certainly involve other tradeoffs—many features are only available on the XLE and Limited. If the SE’s steering and suspension tweaks are beneficial, Toyota should consider offering a sport suspension option on the XLE and Limited.

The new Sienna isn’t cheap. The tested XLE AWD with nav and entertainment listed for over $42,000. The most comparable 2010 Sienna listed for about $4,000 less, about half of which can be justified by the 2011s additional features. This being the first model year of the new design, Toyota has dropped last year’s “Extra Value Packages.”

If you want a minivan with all-wheel-drive, then the Sienna is your only option. Drop the all-wheel-drive, and the Honda Odyssey (with a redesigned 2011 coming in the fall) and Chrysler Town & Country are key alternatives. Using TrueDelta.com’s car price comparison tool to configure vans with leather, sunroof, nav, and entertainment indicates that the 2010 Odyssey EX-L lists for $850 less, but that the Toyota includes about $1,600 in additional features, such as the double-wide screen and venting windows in the third row. The 2011 Odyssey will no doubt narrow if not close the feature gap. Even without including rebates the Chrysler is the value play. Comparing list prices it’s about $2,800 less. But invoice-to-invoice the difference is only about a grand. Large crossovers are thousands more than any of these minivans.

After two weeks in the 2011 Toyota Sienna, my family wished we had one for this trip every year. I was the only person with any complaints at all, centered on IP ergonomics and not quite enough room to lounge in the lounge-style second-row seats. Everyone else was surprised and delighted. And yet, even with the bolder exterior, this remains a place my wife and I prefer to visit rather than live. Neither of us can imagine driving a minivan or even a large crossover day-to-day. But then every time we make this trip we’re offered the choice between the road to Success (MO), and a road leading elsewhere, and we always take the latter. For anyone ready, willing, and able to make comfortably transporting five-plus people a top priority, the new Sienna warrants a very close look.

Toyota provided the vehicle, insurance and one tank of gas for this review

Michael Karesh owns and operates TrueDelta, an online source of automotive pricing and reliability data

There’s a first time for everything. In this case, being admonished by my wife for “only doing 30.” To which I readily replied, “Babe, we’re still accelerating!” Welcome to the 2010 Prius, loved by owners, hated by many non-owners. I asked Toyota to lend me one for a week so that I might get past the hype and anti-hype.

The original Prius didn’t sell well, at least not in the United States. Part of the reason: it looked like a cheap econobox. People inherently want a car’s uniqueness to be expressed in its appearance, and the original Prius (and virtually all hybrids without unique sheetmetal) have failed singularly in this regard. In contrast, the second-generation Prius succeeded spectacularly on the strength of its now-iconic Kammback shape.

But the second-generation Prius was not an attractive car. The peak in the arched roofline was too far forward, throwing off the car’s proportions. And the wheels were too small and appeared clunky. The 2010 redesign addresses these shortcomings. The peak in the roofline has been shifted rearward, the body is much better proportioned, and the bodyside surfacing is much more refined. Attractive five-spoke 17-inch alloys are part of the top option package. Overall, the car looks much less odd, while retaining a distinctively Prius look. All in all, there’s much less reason to hate the third-generation car from an aesthetic standpoint.

Inside, the new Prius is mostly hard plastic, yet especially with the optional leather upholstery—with wave-patterned perforations–still looks and feels much more upscale than the thwarted challenger from Honda. The Prius’s interior design is perhaps overly sci-fi, but at least this theme is more warranted than in other similarly-affected Toyotas. One missed element from previous generations: the large, prominent, oh-so-entertaining multi-colored power generation and distribution display has been downsized and robbed of its dramatic coloration in the new car.

The Prius remains about as roomy inside as a midsize car, and roomier than the Honda Insight, especially in the somewhat low but otherwise adult-worthy back seat. Perceived roominess in the front seat has taken a hit from a much more prominent center console. I personally like the sportier ambiance this console creates, but some, perhaps even most people would prefer the additional room provided by a less intrusive center console. One ergonomic oddity: the seat heater switches are buried beneath this floating console. More of an inconvenience: the infotainment display automatically defaults to nav after a few seconds even if you want to keep viewing something else, such as the XM radio screen.

Visibility from the driver’s seat is better than the swoopy styling suggests it will be. The header above the windshield isn’t too low, the pillars aren’t too thick, and you don’t feel like you’re gazing across acres of instrument panel. The view rearward isn’t quite so good, since the rear glass is narrow and split vertically.

One packaging feat carried over from the second generation: despite the space taken up by the hybrid componentry—it nearly eliminates the trunk passthrough in the Camry Hybrid—there’s a useful amount of cargo room beneath the rear hatch. Sadly, the front passenger seat does not fold forward to further extend the length of the load floor.

And now, the topic raised in the intro: the car’s performance, or lack thereof. With its Atkinson-cycle four-cylinder gas engine now enlarged to 1.8 liters, the Prius is not inherently a slow car. Cast away all thoughts of efficiency and it’ll get to sixty in about ten seconds. Back in the 1980s, when I first started driving, this would have counted as quick, and it’s still quicker than most people need a car to be.

The thing is, the Prius is designed so that even a driving enthusiast will seek joy elsewhere, specifically in maximizing fuel economy. A display located poor man’s HUD style near the base of the windshield offers a wide array of information options, which can be selected on the move using controls mounts on the steering wheel. These include a bar that displays, in real time, the efficiency of your throttle and brake inputs. Keeping this bar within the efficiency-maximizing range becomes an entertaining challenge. To facilitate, an “Eco” mode can be selected to dramatically retard throttle responses. The engine provides further feedback. Employ these tools together and you get acceleration so gentle that my wife was unaware it was happening.

No matter, I was going to find out just how efficient the Prius could be. No crazy hypermiling tricks, but most certainly judicious throttle inputs, taking corners with a minimum of slowing down, and scanning the road well ahead to avoid calling for a more rapid reduction in velocity than the regenerative braking could provide. The upshot: over that particular ten-mile stretch of suburban driving, which included about half a dozen full stops (took advantage of traffic circles and hit some lights just right), the trip computer reported 66.4 MPG even with two adults and three kids on board. Even if the trip computer is, as has been alleged but I did not confirm or refute, a bit optimistic, this was none too shabby.

Over my week with the Prius I experimented with all three calibrations. “Power” quickens the car’s responses dramatically, at the cost of perhaps two MPG as long as you continue to drive with efficiency in mind. Overall I saw about 52 MPG. My wife, who didn’t modify her driving behavior in the slightest, achieved 50. Drive the Prius like you stole it and the MPG drops into the 30s. But it certainly doesn’t ask to be driven that way, not even in “Power” mode. Given the minimal impact of “Eco” mode, and the sluggish feel it imparts, it seems of little benefit as long as you’re able to control your right foot.

The largest problem with “Eco” mode: even if you don’t mind accelerating slowly, and doing so becomes second nature in the Prius, the car behind you does. Expect to be tailgated, even if the light up ahead is clearly red.

The powertrain design does continue to impede traditional sources of driving enjoyment. There’s a decent amount of power, but minimal control over the powertrain. You press on the accelerator, then the car’s computer decides how to apportion the supply of power between the gas engine and a pair of electric motors. The transmission is a CVT, but not the belt-and-pulleys sort. Instead, it’s a planetary gearset that serves to determine how much engine power goes to the wheels and how much into electricity generation in addition to altering the transmission ratio. Unlike in the Honda Insight EX, with a conventional CVT that serves solely to alter the ratio between the engine speed and the wheel speed, there’s no way to hold the transmission at a specific ratio. So get used to having a computer as an intermediary.

What the powertrain does best in typical driving: deliver smooth, quiet acceleration with none of the shifting of a conventional automatic. Push harder, and engine noise markedly increases, and the sensation, typical of a CVT, that a clutch is slipping. Though this noise isn’t too objectionable, consider it one more efficiency-facilitating bit of feedback.

Another reason the original Prius didn’t sell well: clunky transitions between the hybrid and conventional powertrain and braking systems. These transitions were considerably smoother with the second-generation, and they’re often unnoticeable in the latest iteration. Don’t try to detect them, and you won’t notice them.

Handling improved from the first to the second generation, and has improved again with the new car. The latest Prius feels more stable and composed than earlier iterations, pretty much like a good conventional compact. Roll in turns has been reduced to the point where only driving enthusiasts will desire less of it. The steering is numb, but this is typical of today’s cars, and it’s not overly light (unlike in the Camry I had the previous week). A larger issue: the Prius has a more ponderous feel than conventional cars this size. It’s only a little over 3,000 pounds, but feels like it’s pushing two tons.

Typical of a Toyota, the 2010 Prius feels especially smooth at low speeds, and it remains quiet at highway speeds, with almost no wind noise and just a small amount of road noise. The ride is more taut than in the past, and with the 17-inch wheel option some Euro-style thumpiness over minor pavement imperfections implies that the tires are overinflated. The Honda Insight rides much more noisily and bumpily, and feels cruder and cheaper. Between this and the interior appearance, it’s as if Honda set out to create a $20,000 car, while Toyota set out to create a $30,000 car.

The problem for Honda: the Prius isn’t much more expensive than the new Insight. Base price to base price, the Toyota is $3,000 more, with a base price of $23,550. But The Prius also includes about $2,400 in additional standard equipment. Adjust for this, and the Prius is only about $700 more. And its advantages are easily worth $700. The tested car listed for $32,720, but it included a large number of features that are not even available on the Honda.

Despite all of the talk of declining Toyota quality, the Prius remains among the most reliable cars you can buy, judging from responses to TrueDelta’s Car Reliability Survey. Usually the more complex a model is, the more problems it has. So the Prius’s exemplary reliability is especially surprising. Even among older cars—and the 2004s are, on average, approaching the 100,000-mile mark– battery replacements remain rare.

The Prius is certainly not a driver’s car in the traditional sense, and no enthusiast would want one as an only car. But as a commuter, especially if the commute tends to be stop-and-go, the Prius makes a lot of sense. In addition to outstanding fuel economy, the Toyota offers reliability, a roomy, functional interior, the highly refined feel pioneered by Lexus, and, with the latest revision, even a stylish exterior. That Toyota has managed to bundle all of these attributes and leading-edge technology into a package most new car buyers can afford borders on incredible. So I forgive the Prius its numb steering, the prevalence of tailgaters in its constricted rear view, and even the never-before-heard orders from my wife to drive faster.

Toyota provided the vehicles, insurance and one tank of gas for this review

Michael Karesh owns and operates TrueDelta, an online provider of auto pricing and reliability data

Driving enthusiasts love to hate the Toyota Camry. Yet, despite the company’s current troubles, it remains the best-selling car in the United States. Hyundai would love to steal the crown, or at least tens of thousands of customers. So it recently launched a totally redesigned 2011 Sonata and will be advertising it heavily. Should Toyota be concerned?

Both the young (my kids) and the old (my parents) were captivated by the beauty of the Camry. Not the sheetmetal, mind you. They probably didn’t notice the shape of the car. The bulbous exterior was a great leap forward for a Camry four years ago—engineers might have designed the previous generation sedan—but at this point it is a generation behind current automotive fashion. The good angles it does possess (not the front view even with this year’s redesigned grille) have been overexposed through its omnipresence. And the XLE’s small, multispoked alloys don’t flatter the car—the SE looks considerably better. Rather, my family was captivated by the paint, a highly metallic dark green.

The Sonata’s paint options are relatively ordinary. But its swoopy exterior design marks a sharp departure from that of the handsome but utterly forgettable 2006-2010 Sonata. What the Mercedes-Benz CLS did for luxury sedans—bring coupe-like style to the segment—Hyundai hopes to do for midsize family sedans. Some resemblance can be seen to various luxury sedans (CLS, A6, ES), but Hyundai has also taken far more risks here than with the Genesis. An arching roofline, a couple of strong, curving character lines, and a ribbon of chrome trim that connects the beltline to the headlights could have combined in the side view to form a complicated mess. And yet these design elements manage to form a whole that is both cohesive and distinctive, and at once upscale and sporty. Even the fashionably oversized grille works. Most important of all: unlike the Genesis sedan, the new Sonata stands out on a crowded road—even without fancy paint. In comparison, the Toyota looks stodgy.

Upholstered in light gray leather, the Camry XLS interior includes nothing analogous to the exterior’s paint. Its design is thoroughly conventional circa 2006. One exception: the audio controls to the right of the nav screen are a bit of a reach, a common sin these days.

As with the exterior, the new Sonata’s interior is much more up-to-date and stylish than the Camry’s. The instrument panel includes some artful curves, but is cleanly designed. All of the buttons are easy to reach, and they helpfully vary in shape and size. As with the exterior, Hyundai appears to have benchmarked luxury sedans rather than other family sedans. Controls beneath the nav screen mimic an Infiniti’s, while the climate controls mimic a Volvo’s. The anthropomorphic control for directing airflow is just a single button rather than the three found in a Volvo, though, so it captures the Swede’s style more than its functionality. After sampling all three trim levels—cloth GLS, cloth/leather SE (sport), and leather Limited, the last is easily the most attractive. For those who want an escape from black, gray, and beige, wine-colored hides are offered.

Interior materials are of similar quality in both cars: not bad, but you’re clearly not in a luxury car. The Toyota has higher-quality switchgear, but its glossy “wood” is too obviously plastic and the silver-painted trim covering the center stack doesn’t even pretend to be aluminum. Perhaps because it was tailored for the European market, the interior in Hyundai’s new Tucson feels more solid and tightly constructed than that in either of these sedans.

The steering wheels deserve special consideration. Prior to the Genesis, Hyundai upholstered its cars’ steering wheels with the world’s slickest leather. With the Genesis they seemed to have finally realized that the point of having leather on the steering wheel is to make it easier to grip, not to help it slip through one’s fingers. But with the new Sonata they’ve backslid. The artfully designed steering wheel has a rim composed of three different materials: urethane on the outer sides, slippery leather from 10 to 2 o’clock and from 5 to 7, and, inside the lower perimeter, the sort of rubberized plastic that tended to wear poorly in MkIV Jettas. The last was already badly worn on one of the tested cars. None of the materials is well-suited to the task, and three is two too many. A good steering wheel has one material, a grippy leather, all the way around the rim–like the one in the Camry.

The Camry doesn’t have great front seats, but they’re both more supportive and more comfortable than those in the Sonata. With the Sonata, the feel of the seat varies quite a bit depending on whether the center panel upholstery is cloth, as in the GLS and SE, or leather, as in the Limited. The leather seats feel firmer, and you sit noticeably higher in them, or rather on them. With either upholstery the side bolsters quickly surrender when called upon to provide lateral support. The Camry’s side bolsters failed me less, but then I asked less of them. 

Some other car reviews will tell you that the Sonata’s new coupe-like roofline cost the sedan 2.8 inches of rear legroom compared to the previous generation car. What they fail to notice: maximum front legroom increased by 1.8 inches—which is sure to delight long-legged drivers (with a 30-inch inseam, I’m not one). So rear legroom is only down by an inch, and still fairly plentiful. Rear headroom, not quite so much. Tall passengers will have the scrunch down or sit up front. Other than this, the rear seat is perhaps more comfortable than the front seat. It’s a decent height off the floor, the backrest provides a healthy amount of lumbar support, and in the Limited it’s even heated.

The Camry’s back seat is even better, with a little more room, a little more height off the floor, and, in the XLE, manual recliners. The price of the manual recliners: unlike in the base Camry and the Sonata, the rear seat doesn’t fold to expand the trunk. Both cars have usefully commodious trunks that are moderately compromised by conventional gooseneck hinges and constricted openings. In both the Camry XLE and Sonata Limited, but not in lesser trims, rear seat passengers get their own air vents, a welcome feature on hot sunny days.

The tested Camry was fitted with a 268-horsepower DOHC 3.5-liter V6. Hyundai will offer no V6 in the new Sonata, we’re told to shave 100 pounds off the curb weight (a commendably light 3,199 pounds with the automatic). And a 274-horsepower turbo four won’t arrive until fall. So the cars I drove were fitted with a 198-horsepower direct-injected DOHC 2.4-liter four (200 with the SE’s dual exhaust). Not an even match, so just a few words on each.

The Camry’s V6 engine is easily the most entertaining aspect of the car. It’s smooth, powerful, and makes lusty noises when prodded. But there’s really little point to it in this car. The Camry simply doesn’t ask to be pushed hard enough to render the four-cylinder insufficient. Then again, Detroit’s specialty used to be overpowered cars with soft suspensions and over-boosted steering, and perhaps there’s still a market for this combination.

The Sonata’s new engine is, like the related port-injected unit in the new Tucson, very smooth and quiet for a four. Even held at 4,500 RPM using the automatic’s manual shift feature it’s not loud, and it never sounds rough. The previous generation four sounds and feels uncivilized in comparison, and it’s not a bad engine. The loud clacking typical of high-pressure injectors can be heard when outside the Sonata, but not when inside it. Thrust is a bit soft up to about 25 miles-per-hour, beyond which point the engine feels fairly energetic, if not a substitute for a V6. Few buyers will need more power or refinement than this four offers. The others can wait a few months for the turbo.

The Camry’s engine provides good fuel economy for a powerful V6, about 22 around town. But the Hyundai’s new four is outstanding in this regard, earning a class-leading 22/35 MPG from the EPA. Driven along rural roads, I observed 35 MPG for one segment, and low 30s overall. So the EPA numbers don’t seem to have been cheated. A hybrid arrives in the fall, but it seems pointless unless most driving involves frequent stops.

Both the Camry and Sonata are fitted with six-speed automatics that usually shift smoothly and behave well. One minor demerit for the Hyundai’s box: it slightly lugs the engine at times, no doubt to maximize fuel economy. Those whose ears aren’t sensitive to low frequency sounds will never notice.

The Camry and Sonata drive about as differently as they look. The first thing you’ll notice when setting off in the Camry: it feels extremely smooth and quiet, clearly the result of lessons learned when developing Lexus. Bumps effect some head toss at moderate speeds, but overall the Toyota’s ride could hardly be more comfortable. Unfortunately, the focus on isolation extends to the steering. It’s far too light, lacks a strong sense of direction, and (aside from some kickback) is devoid of feel. A shame, because even in XLE trim the chassis is more composed than in previous non-sport Camrys. A firm, even overly firm, suspension is standard in the Camry SE.

The three trims of the Sonata all drive differently. The GLS’s higher-profile 16-inch tires are noisier than the Limited’s 17s and harm the car’s ride and handling. Paired with steelies, they’re begging for a mod. The SE’s 18s are also noisier than the Limited’s 17s, and together with a firmer suspension yield a busy, occasionally unsettled ride. If the SE handled much better than the Limited the ride penalty might be worth it, but it doesn’t. The Limited handles nearly as well as the SE, and rides more quietly and much more smoothly. Add in its more attractive interior and additional features, and the Limited is easily the best of the three trims. If you want a Sonata, you want a Sonata Limited.

Still, compared to the Camry XLE, the Sonata Limited isn’t as quiet or as smooth. It’s the difference between good, even very good, and great. The Camry feels like a premium car through the seat of one’s pants and the drums of one’s ears. The Sonata does not quite manage the same. On the other hand, the Sonata’s steering, while nearly as devoid of feel as the Camry’s, isn’t overly light, is nicely weighted, and has a clear sense of direction. As a result, even down two cylinders the Hyundai is more engaging and fun to drive (such things being relative).

In the end, the Camry cannot escape its advancing age. It does a few things extremely well, and most other things very well, but its steering is far too light and its styling is bland and dated. With the new Sonata, Hyundai has avoided competing with the Camry head on. The Sonata isn’t as smooth, as quiet, or as comfortable, but it has better steering and is more fun to drive. But will many midsize sedan buyers notice or care about the difference in how the cars steer? Maybe, maybe not. But they’ll certainly notice how the new Sonata looks. A Hyundai that sells because of how it looks—who saw this coming? Now if only Hyundai offered some eye-catching green paint…

Toyota and Hyundai provided the vehicles, insurance and one tank of gas each for this review

Michael Karesh owns and operates TrueDelta, an online source of auto reliability and pricing data

When in Baltimore, do as the Baltimorons rent a Camry

We stumble into the BWI car rental center at 1:30 AM. All the counters are closed; not a soul in sight. I call the Alamo 800 number: “go walk out into the parking garage, someone’s there”. “What are you looking for?” asks the droll lot attendant. “A comfortable bed, actually”. “Well, the nearest car is a Camry; might as well take that”. Good call.

I left the Baltimore area in 1971. When I used to come back to visit in the nineteen eighties from California, I was always amazed at how everyone seemed to still drive big domestic sedans, which were practically extinct in the Golden State by then. Of course its been in the making for some time, and it obviously reflects my West-coast centric perspective, but it still strikes me as somewhat astonishing to see endless Camrys having replaced the big Chevys, Olds and Fords in the driveways of infinitely identical Colonial-style houses hereabouts.

But loading the whole family’s luggage in the vast trunk, and heading up the Beltway at 2 AM with tired travelers sprawled comfortably in the enormous back seat, the Camry’s tomb-quiet and plush-riding role in life is perfectly revealed: it’s the 1970 Chevrolet Impala, the best and most popular car of its time, reincarnated and updated. And if the new Hyundai Sonata wants to compete for this title, its trunk and rear seat leave it handicapped at the gate.

Evolution results in the same forms manifesting themselves, if the conditions are similar. That’s why Australians drive big Holdens; or they did, until the Camry took hold over there too. The Camry is supremely adapted to the typical American way of living and driving, which just happens to not by mine, unless I’m in Baltimore. Then it all comes back, in a silent rush, until it’s disturbed by flashing lights. Damn; the serenely still Camry has lulled me to well over seventy in the fifty-five marked Beltway. And Maryland has always had a rep for stiff enforcement.

But its not the invisible Toyota they’re after; soon a whole flotilla of lit-up cop cars are zipping by, heading for much bigger fish to fry. Baltimore: one minute you’re on the potholed set of The Wire; the next you’re gliding past blooming Dogwoods in Stepford. The Camry is equally at home in both: its supple suspension swallows the ancient cobblestones in Fells Point as effortlessly as the mussels at Berthas slide down our gullets.

The 169 hp 2.5 liter four’s muted growl on brisk acceleration is the only deviation from Bertha’s melted butter sauce smoothness. Since for its intended role, it’s faster (0-60 in 8.4 seconds) than heavily-patrolled Marylanders are likely to ever know or care, the growl will be rarely heard.

The six-speed automatic that appeared last year along with the new four are practically siamese twins, always seeming to know what the other is about to do. It’s almost impossible to trip them up, which is saying something these days. It’s as smooth and better than most of the competition as the Impala’s 350 V8/THM350 combo was in its day. And it’s at least as fast, as well as about twice as fuel efficient. Baltimore likes a helping dash of progress with its traditions.

The Camry’s simple and logical controls are your best friends at 2 AM when you don’t want to even waste a second before heading off in search of a real bed. Simple, intuitive; the radio even has two big knobs on either side and six preset buttons, again, just like yore. But where is the alarm clock? Do Camrys have a wake up call feature? And the climate controls are equally jet-lag proof. The Camry makes you feel like you’re in your hotel room before you’ve even gotten there.

The interior material quality isn’t going to leave rich memories, especially the subtle but noticeable difference in hue between certain grained plastic pieces whose job it is to create the impression of an unbroken vista. But the gaps and fit were all up to snuff, and the overall effort gets a passing grade, especially compared to our last rental, a Charger.

Since I assumed the steering was electric, I was pleasantly surprised, especially compared to the Corolla’s strange and unnatural feedback sensations. Looking at the specs, it appears that its not electric: do I get to change my mind? For a hydraulic unit, the overused word Novocaine is still the best. Did I think to lift the hood and check? Does anyone ever lift the hood of a Camry?

My brother’s six-year old Camry with 140k perfectly trouble-free miles joins its brand new stablemate at the curb in front of my parents house. Sometimes we ride his, sometimes in my rental. Is there a discernible difference? Hardly. Camry evolution has slowed down, as it’s reached a seeming plateau of development. But then there are times I almost can’t tell a new brick colonial from an old one. The Camry has become highly traditional. And it wears like a brick.

The neutral and soothing qualities of a Camry make it the perfect choice for a family reunion: everyone should be obligated to show up in one. No bragging or proving your eccentricity. No fighting about whose car to take or ride in. The Camry is the great equalizer, and it’s become the equivalent of the Golf in Germany: the classless car. Of course, in English, that expression takes on new meaning.

Travel, reunions, hotels and rental cars have their place. The Camry is the Marriott of cars; quiet, comfortable, easy to use, and soothing after a long and full day intense sensory inputs. The difference between a brand new 2011 and a well used  2005 is like whether your particular Marriot room was last renovated in ‘o5 or this year. The bed is comfortable either way, and once you shut your eyes, you can’t tell the difference. And as pleasant and comfortable it may be, you’ll always be glad to be back in your own bed, familiar lumps and all.

The new 4Runner takes everything enjoyable from the original model and adds a shot of steroids.  The styling is proof: oversized fenders, blocky A-pillars and surprisingly short (and efficient) bumper overhangs.  The angry headlight eyebrows are an improvement from the outgoing model, but lack the classic Toyota truck virtue of honest workhorse design. Tough for toughness sake, perhaps?  Clock that small-ish greenhouse, but note the surprisingly decent visibility. While the 4Runner is a politically correct HUMMER H2, the menacing hood bulge looks truck-tastic behind the wheel.

Maybe the 4Runner is a poor man’s Land Rover: the dashboard was cribbed from something suitable for a weekend in the UK countryside. Never mind Toyota’s (now expected) rubbish plastics and a lack of charming British oak, there’s liquid-smooth buttonage, vents, and knobs.  Even the fake aluminum looks nicer than any paint job has a right to.  But the Limited-grade 4Runner’s leather trim feels and smells like a new rubber hose.  And again, there’s simply too much hard plastic on the dash and door panels to keep the GM references at bay:  the line between these two automakers is thinner and more blurred.

Toyota’s well-documented slip in quality is no shocker, but the seats escaped the brunt of the cost cutting: all three rows are comfortable enough for the 4Runner’s mission, though the third row is for kids only.  Add the intuitive touch screen navigation with a fifteen speaker JBL Audio system and two top-notch traveling companions come for the ride.  With the subwoofer thumping and the (aforementioned) hood bulge cutting an aggressive path toward the horizon, there’s little doubt the 4Runner is a cooler, tougher way to haul the kids around town. CUV’s don’t stand a chance.

Then again, maybe those new age station wagons don’t care.  Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. The new 4Runner drives like a crossover utility: numb steering, vague handling responses, a thoroughly torque-less motor, roly-poly suspension and electronic throttle responses befitting a Camry.  While the SUVs from the good old days were no track Gods, you couldn’t resist cracking a smile when their chassis hugged a twisty road with surprising speed and grace.

When you combine a motor with a torque peak at 4400 revs, a drive-by-wire system with more red tape than Medicare and five-cog automatic with downshifts slow enough to earn a free pizza delivery, the result is a vehicle torn between doing what the driver wants and what the CUV-segment demands.  The available four-cylinder motor can only make matters worse, as the enlarged 4Runner should have kept the once optional V8 instead.

And the buzz kill runs like a negative undercurrent behind the 4Runner’s overpromising sheetmetal. Because turning is more of the same: less.  With Camry levels of body lean, the driver is discouraged from extra steering input or faster than geriatric mid-corner exit velocities.  Perhaps the legacy of SUV rollover terror lives on, so drive the 4Runner as its former self and prepare to clean the puke from your kid’s booster seats.

SUV thrills are a thing of the past, but the real shocker is the ride. Road noise levels were unacceptable, but a velvety ride from a 4400lb vehicle was expected.  At highway speeds, the 20” wheels bang on pavement joints like the drummer in a suburban high school jazz band: cross a lane and you’ll feel every Bott’s Dot on the pavement. Live-axle critics point to the antiquated rear suspension, but you’ll rarely notice the shortcomings: a back-to-back drive with a modern Ford Explorer is the only way to feel the advantages of an independent rear axle. Even then, the difference is modest at best: the Toyota’s overall suspension tuning is the main culprit.

And such compromise at the $40,655 asking price? On the plus side, bang for the buck of a used 4Runner is officially realized: more inspired performance and an optional V8 for those who take towing seriously. So the new 4Runner is another wrong move from a company seemingly destined to steal defeat from the hands of victory. Would-be buyers are better off filling the garage with a fully depreciated 4Runner to remember the good old days, plus a new Camry for today’s harsh realities.

Cross a car and a truck, you get an SUV. Cross a SUV with a car and you get a CUV. Cross that CUV with a car and you get a Crossover Sedan, the term used by Toyota marketing mavens for their Camry-based Venza. With this step the evolution comes full circle, as the Venza is really just a good ole station wagon. Not to be outdone, this year Honda released a Crossover Sedan of their own, only they don’t call it a Crossover Sedan. Instead, Honda says their new Accord “blends sporty, low-profile contours with CUV functionality.” Get the picture? Actually, the new Honda should be called the Accord hatchback. So it is that I evaluate these two new Crossover Sedans wrought from the DNA of two of the top selling cars in North America. First up, second place: the Toyota Venza.

Call the Venza whatever you like, it is big and shares nary a body panel with the Camry. Its hood is broad, short, flat and lacks the Camry’s obscene protruding bulge. The doors too are flat and tall, making the most of the space above the vehicle’s footprint. This Colossus of Roads stands 3.3” wider and 5.5” taller than its (relatively) diminutive chassis partner.

Inside, the sense of spaciousness continues. In fact, call it vast; a vast expanse of hard cheap plastics. The most striking thing about Venza’s inner confines, other than the openness of the space, is that it looks like futuristic interior mockups that carmakers like to put into concept vehicles for auto shows. You know, the ones where none of the buttons or gauges are real and they use a lot of sterile colors accented with splashes of neon lighting, and long flowing lines. Seats: meet George Jetson.

In their wisdom, Toyota engineers planted Venza’s gear select in the middle of the dashboard. Not only does this placement bring on the very minivan blahs the “crossover sedan” category might have been invented to avoid, it also crowds the HVAC controls away from the driver into an asymmetrical contortion of buttons and knobs. On the positive side, it frees up the center console space to be used as a dedicated storage bin filled with handy cubbies and niches that lift and slide into multiple handy configurations. Auxiliary audio jacks are conveniently located at the front of the center console.

The highlight of the Venza’s interior is the light high above the passenger’s heads that Toyota calls the panoramic glass roof option. It is a conventional sunroof plus a large fixed pane over the rear seat occupants, perfect for taking your kids on a driving tour of Jurassic Park.

Automatic folding rear seats can be actuated by levers conveniently located on either side of the lift gate. With the seats up, the rear quarters can accommodate 30.1 cu.ft. of cargo. Fold the rear seats down and that space grows to 68.8 cu.ft. For those of you keeping score, that’s 4.2 cu.ft. smaller than the back of the RAV4. But it’s also four and a half times more than you can squeeze into the trunk of a Camry.

Everything about how the Venza drives is tuned for comfort and smoothness. My Barcelona Red Metallic test car was powered by Toyota’s 268 hp 3.5-liter V6 engine mated to a 6-speed electronically controlled transmission. If you have the patience, it is actually capable of producing a fair amount of power. If you have the patience.

Before the engine will sing though, you have to endure it lugging through low rpms at the shallow end of the power band and wait for the slothful transmission to downshift a gear. Or two. Or three. I suppose this is for the best since the car has the weakest brakes I have encountered since I began my saga testing cars for TTAC in 2006.

The traction control allows for excessive wheel spin before it invokes ABS intervention, which then comes on way too hard. Furthermore, the electric power assisted steering pulls demonically to the right after the car shifts into second gear at about 50 mph during full throttle blasts. Otherwise, torque steer isn’t a problem (I type with trembling hands).

But hey, it’s a family-oriented station wagon. Gear shifts are as disruptive as the flutter of a butterfly’s wing. The velvety suspension devours potholes so you don’t have to. Under normal driving conditions, the Venza is a rolling sensory deprivation chamber, perfect for pacifying fussy babies and soothing the savage beast after a long day at the office.

And long days are exactly what you will have to work in order to pay for Toyota’s fancy station wagon. My test model rang in at $34,893, $4,513 more than the Accord Crosstour EX. Throw in AWD and navigation and you’ll get stuck for $40 large.

[Toyota provided the vehicle, insurance and one tank of gas for this review]