Mitsubishi Outlander
One of the great questions to be answered when eva- luating a motor car for the first time is the issue of steering feel. Is it sharp, crisp and telepathic in its nature? Will the mere thought of directional change be transmitted rapier-like into an endless stream and loop of mountain pass, turn in, feel, bite and holding your line, in a seemingly endless stream of exhilaration. Tyres communicating their every nuance of traction and grip. The zen-like nirvana of driving at its best?
Or do we get the more usual dull, lifeless, light steering, designed for endless miles of straight American freeway, with the mesmerising hypnotism of interminably straight miles and heat mirages, as your only companion? I have always wondered why any manufacturer wouldn't have as their sole criteria for steering, lively, sharp steering feel that communicates. There have of course always been technical issues. The engineering of ancient steering boxes, unable to transmit the information. Bad setups of the front suspension, and of course the advent of power steering that dulled and dampened the feel that was there.
However, some car makers got this right even in the darkest days of hydraulically assisted dull-o-matic, park-withone- finger steering. Why don't all manufacturers just copy that which works? So I get the Outlander. The 4x4 for those who want a 4x4 but will never use one. Low, so as not to be difficult to get in or out of. No silly low-range to confuse one who has no interest in knowing what that silly extra lever is for anyhow.
Steering? Light. Uncommunicative. Easy. She has always wanted to try one and demands a drive. First off, she asks for the key. I say “throw it in your handbag, and forget it is even there” to which she replies “huh?” I have to explain the joys of keyless go and how this is one of the most reasonably priced cars which has a feature previously reserved for the executive tanks which required an income supplemented with certain tender irregularities to be able afford. She gets in and starts the car sighing with bliss at the thought of the ease owning one of these would bring. Then we pull off, and she goes “oh my god the steering is gorgeous” in an only slightly irritating whine.
And suddenly it hits me in a crash of epiphany. Those damn eggheads have been designing cars all these years for Her! I finally get it. She wants no feel, as weird as that may seem. She just cares about where to plug her i-pod in, all 710w of it. . The convenience of allowing her keys to stay lost in the abyss of a handbag bottom, and the fact that she can drive a station wagon without feeling like she is a mommy on the way to soccer practice or any other suitable cliché that driving a 4x4 camouflages and protects from dwelling in the land of wagondom.
She also loved the fact that the rear door was easy to swing open. The size of the car felt compact. The fact that it was neither flashy or butch and the rear Park Distance Control. Standard fitment of leather, climate control, electric sunroof and three year 60 000 km service plan didn't seem to bother her either. She even loved the CVT gearbox. About the only thing she didn't adore, in fact, was the heavy fuel consumption. Which was considerably higher than the claimed 9,9l/100km's. Needless to say, upon realising this was her idea of motoring bliss I ran away screaming, with a tear welling in my eye.
Now She wants to buy one.
