Capsule Review: 1994 Audi RS2

Brendan McAleer
by Brendan McAleer

Ten Cars We’d Go to Prison For.

Jeez guys, you could just head North a little ways. Nobody’s going to force you to cheer for the Leafs or listen to Celine Dion.

Anyway, here’s what it’s like to drive something rare, obscure, fast, and practical. The Audi RS2 – she’s a beauty, eh?

First, a little history about what makes this odd little Euro wagon so special. Through the 1980s Porsche was in fairly tight financial straits, and would turn eventually to building cars for first Mercedes-Benz and then Audi. The first was the 500E, which had an interesting and complicated shuttling back-and-forth between its parent companies during construction, and an owners’ list that reads like a who’s-who of Formula One at the time.

One little historical tidbit that’ll pique the interest of Porsche fans is that the 500E was built in the Rössle-Bau factory inside Porsche’s Zuffenhausen complex; this, the same line that produced the 959 supercar. The first partnership married an overtaxed Mercedes-Benz R&D department with Porsche’s seriously under-employed production facilities. The 500E likely saved Porsche with an infusion of much-needed cash, but Mercedes kept a firm hand on the tiller of the project, and the resulting car was more Merc’ than Porsche – an invigorated version of the W124’s bank vault ideal.

With the RS2, Porsche’s next off-brand project, the reins were loosened considerably. Unlike Mercedes, which just wanted Porsche engineering, Audi wanted an infusion of Porsche prestige into their car. In fact, the badges on this unassuming compact Euro-wagon actually bear a hybridized badge that incorporates both the four rings of Audi and the Porsche name.

As pictured above, the 500E and the RS2 overlapped each other for the last two years of the former’s production, but while the Mercedes would be an interesting one-off, the RS2 would establish a new direction for Audi’s performance image. It is also considered by many to have created the ideal of the hot Euro wagon.

For regular TTAC reader Rob Stevenson, the seed was first planted as a young man on a trip to Europe, seeing one of these machines light the afterburners coming out of a parking lot – forbidden fruit, the dream car forever out of reach, that sort of thing. And yet here it is today sitting alongside downhill mountain bikes in his North Vancouver garage, dressed in unassuming black paint and wearing a set of fat, optional 18” boots.

Canada’s 15-year grey market rule is most often associated with JDM imports: Delicas, Skylines, and kei cars. However, there are any number of specialty Euro-market cars floating around locally, from M5 tourings to Lancia Delta Integrales, to Alpinas. Rob found his RS2 after a lengthy search and effectively ran his own version of the European delivery programs provided by a number of luxury marques; he bought the car before it was eligible for import into Canada, then flew to the UK and had a delayed honeymoon with his wife driving his dream machine throughout Europe.

The RS2 has a number of visual clues showing its mixed parentage, like a illegitimate child with the nose and ears of Henry I. The simple boxy shape is pure 1990s Audi, based on the 80 (B4) Avant. However, here we can see the wolf’s fangs peeking out from behind the humdrum sheep’s clothing: the side mirrors and turn signals are the same as the 993-generation Porsche 911, the wheels are cup-style Porsche alloys in a unique bolt pattern, the rear hatch has a broad stripe of red intended to match the back of a contemporary 911.

Pop the hood and Porsche’s fingerprints are even more obvious. Rob opened the hood at a local 911-heavy cars and coffee event, and more than a few PCA members wandered over to scratch their heads at the Porsche script carved into the head of the 2.2L five-cylinder engine that just barely fits into the engine bay. Longitudinally-mounted, the five-pot is long enough to necessitate moving the radiator to an offset position.

Audi already had this twenty-valve engine in the S2 coupe, where it was making 227hp, similar to an old Subaru WRX. Porsche raised the boost to 20psi with an uprated KKK turbocharger, massaged the camshafts to improve flow-through, and fitted bigger fuel injectors, more efficient intercooling, and a specially-tuned Bosch ECU. The result was 310hp, a respectable figure even now, and pretty damn impressive for 1994 standards. The RS2 seated five, had a trunk big enough to fit a labrador retriever, and had enough steam to laminate said dog to the rear hatch glass.

The first impression, upon climbing behind the wheel and cranking up the grumbly straight-five, is how little this car is. The B4-chassis Audi wasn’t far off the Mk3 GTI in dimensions, and compared to the massive RS7 I showed up in, Rob’s car looked like a Hot Wheels.

On the move, there’s a signature feel here that will be immediately familiar to anyone who’s driven any moderately performance-oriented Audi. The steering is very light, perhaps even floatier thanks to the extra-wide tires. Even so, there’s the sensation of grip and weight, a more substantial feel than in a WRX. There’s the sense here that the car’s built for high-speed autobahn runs – a machine to be loaded up with skis and boots and a brace of tow-headed children and then blasted straight at the Alps on a wave of forced induction.

Standing in for an Alp today is one of Vancouver’s North Shore mountains, and I head out from its summit with gentle throttle, as this is someone else’s car. But Rob’s not having any of that, so let’s let that Porsche-fettled fiver off the leash.

The RS2’s party-piece is a hugely abusive dump-clutch holeshot that returns acceleration figures impressive even in a time where the Tesla P85D exists. English magazine Autocar famously returned a 0-30mph time quicker than either the McLaren F1 or even an actual Formula One car of the time. Through the quarter and in roll-on acceleration, it’s capable of going toe-to-toe with the first of the wasser-boxer Porsches.

On the uphill, revs climb slowly, with not much going on, 2000rpm, 2500rpm, 3000rpm, 3500rpm. You can’t help your inner Dark Helmet asking, “and what have we got on this thing, a Cuisinart?” But then four grand hits and it’s a jump to ludicrous speed.

Nothing sounds quite like a boosted five-cylinder engine at full growl, all gravel-spitting rally fury and whooshy overboosted hiss. It’s like someone cutting a robot snake in half with a Huskqvarna. Far from being a family pet, this little wagon’s a snarling menace.

The RS2 was the first of the breed, the first of a line that’s currently capped by the Aries-red liftback I brought along for photos, but the two are very different. Grandpa RennSport is all Ur-Quattro for the family man, a raw and visceral thrill. Its gawp-mawed descendant feels a lot more like somebody fitted a ZF 8-speed to Spaceball One.

Over a brief run, the RS2 is wonderful. But to live with?

Stevenson is an engineer, specializing in fuel-cell technology, so he has both the skill and temperament to put up with an older German vehicle that was never supposed to make it to our shores. He does much of the work himself, and as a long-time Audi owner, knows where to look to find some of the trickier stuff. His RS2 is also on collector plates, so he’s not relying on it to get him to work (for that, there’s a Tacoma or a stick-shift Cobalt SS sedan with the GM performance boost.

Just under 3000 RS2s were made in 1994 and 1995, but even with that relative rarity, the car is not yet as expensive to purchase as early 993s and late 964s are getting. All that, of course, will likely change in the next five years, as the cars become importable under US 25-year grey market law.

In the meantime, this particular RS2 is doubly special, not just because it is a rare machine with an interesting history and thrilling potential, but because its specific story should appeal to every gearhead. Here is a car that captivated a young man’s imagination, and through dint of effort that fantasy became a reality. No skirting the law; no endless dollars thrown at a problem.

Persistence, and a dream, and Canada’s relatively reasonable importation laws. And say, have I mentioned we’ve got poutine?

Brendan McAleer
Brendan McAleer

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  • ZCD2.7T ZCD2.7T on Feb 19, 2015

    Great piece of writing about a very cool car! So, B-Mac, when are we going to hear about the "ludicrous speed" RS7?

  • PJmacgee PJmacgee on Feb 26, 2015

    duuuuuude, where have you been? I had to start stalking you on driving.ca for a few years. Welcome back to TTAC.

  • Carson D At 1:24 AM, the voyage data recorder (VDR) stopped recording the vessel’s system data, but it was able to continue taping audio. At 1:26 AM, the VDR resumed recording vessel system data. Three minutes later, the Dali collided with the bridge. Nothing suspicious at all. Let's go get some booster shots!
  • Darren Mertz Where's the heater control? Where's the Radio control? Where the bloody speedometer?? In a menu I suppose. How safe is that??? Volvo....
  • Lorenzo Are they calling it a K4? That's a mountain in the Himalayas! Stick with names!
  • MaintenanceCosts It's going to have to go downmarket a bit not to step on the Land Cruiser's toes.
  • Lorenzo Since EVs don't come in for oil changes, their owners don't have their tires rotated regularly, something the dealers would have done. That's the biggest reason they need to buy a new set of tires sooner, not that EVs wear out tires appreciably faster.
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