Previously, we introduced the 2017 Motor Trend SUV of the Year contestants, the methodology, the judges, and the weather. But we forgot to introduce you to Pinch.
We were warned about Pinch when we first arrived at Honda Proving Center of California. Don’t leave your bags on the ground, they cautioned us. Pinch will rummage through them. Watch where you step, or Pinch might get you in the ankle. Don’t sit on the ground, either, because Pinch will sting you in the hiney.
Pinch, by the way, is a scorpion. And although we only met him once during our two days at HPCC, we knew he was everywhere, watching everything. He had a CB radio, apparently. And a radar gun, too. Because he ratted me out for doing 109 mph in a Mazda CX-9 on the high-speed oval.
We were supposed to keep our speeds under 75 mph. But I was, I swear, speeding in the name of science. The Mazda’s outside temperature display was stuck at 79 degrees Fahrenheit, its computer in clear disbelief of the actual ambient air temperature—which was more than a scorching 110. It didn’t matter that it was a dry heat; the Mazda didn’t like it. I could hear fluttering sounds coming from the engine compartment as the computer dumped boost to preserve the engine. The CX-9 was gutless.
After a cooldown lap of the 7.5-mile oval, I switched off traction control and tried a full-throttle launch. The power had returned, and the front-drive CX-9 spun its tires through first gear, halfway through second, and pulled hard until the middle of third, at which point the boost once again started to drop off. I kept my foot in it to see what would happen, and I backed off only when I was convinced that—even though the computer was clearly reducing engine power—no warning lights would illuminate. Apparently, it took until 109 mph to satisfy me.
In my notebook, I dinged the Mazda for its distaste of the heat but then gave it partial credit for at least thermally protecting itself.
The beauty of having so many judges is that we each bring our respective neuroses to the table. I tend to focus on powertrain, handling balance, and suspension compliance. Every time I saw Frank Markus, he was dictating to Siri how many tie-down hooks, 12-volt power outlets, and spare tires were present in some cargo area. Ed Loh seemed to be furiously tapping on every car’s touchscreen, Scott Evans was complaining about head toss, Mark Rechtin was evaluating rear-seat packaging, and Alisa Priddle was metering ride quality on the 110 freeway replica.
Then there was Jonny Lieberman, who was most often on the 50 percent incline with vehicles that would never, ever do such a thing in real life. That made for awesome photos.
The cynic in me would love to dismiss the very idea of an SUV of the Year award. After all, Motor Trend didn’t give out an award for Station Wagon of the Year in the 1970s or Minivan of the Year in the 1980s, when those body styles were the dominant family haulers. On the other hand, neither category seemed to dominate the market with subcompact to full-size versions at every price point like SUVs have. And the crossover, well, crosses over so many different categories. In this group, we have performance SUVs, family SUVs, compact SUVs, hybrid SUVs, luxury SUVs, SUVs from the future with gullwing doors, amazing SUVs, disappointing SUVs, and ultimately, the winning SUV. But there’s one thing all of these vehicles have in common, and that’s being a daily driver SUV. So it was important that each of our diverse group of judges had a my-priorities-are-different-than-yours viewpoint.
One of those different priorities came from new guest judge Mike Accavitti. He was evaluating things from the perspective of a real buyer. Accavitti was most recently the general manager of the Acura brand, a position he ascended to after decades of marketing and product-planning positions in Detroit. So his observations tended to be more gestalt—does each SUV, as a whole, meet the expectations of the consumers who actually buy these things?
This is in stark contrast to Jonny, whose praise demonstrated a perfect negative correlation to sales figures. Toyota sells more Highlanders in a week than it does Land Cruisers in a year, yet Jonny declared the latter to be the best truck in the world. He was so impressed with how well it climbed the hill. Then he blew a gasket upon hearing general praise for the Highlander.
No actual gaskets were blown in the high heat, thankfully, but one contender did throw a vehicular temper tantrum. First, the Model X remotely slammed one of its front doors into the slab-sided Audi Q7, possibly out of brand jealousy. Then, while opening one of its rear falcon doors, the Tesla tore off a piece of its own chrome window trim. Bent it back, pulled it away, and left it there. Clearly, the vehicles were feeling the pressure.
Two days of blasting through the desert is like an Ironman competition.
Two days of blasting through the desert is like an Ironman competition for each of the SUVs. Will you ever need to swim 2.4 miles, bike 112 miles, and only then run a 26.2-mile marathon? Not likely. But if you’re looking for a quick way to rank some uber-athletes, that, like our triathlon of events at Honda, is a great place to start.
All these conditions were before California City switched on its cosmic hair dryer. As an afternoon breeze picked up, the scorching triple-digit heat started to seem more tolerable. Within a few minutes, though, the winds were gale force, picking up the desert sand and blasting away the first layer of sun-scorched epidermis from our faces. We now understood why the west-facing side of any structure more than a foot tall was perfectly devoid of paint. People pay good money for dermabrasion. They should just hang out at the Honda Proving Center of California at sunset.
Mercifully, Pinch decided not to hitch a ride with us into town for dinner. We arrived at a local Yelp-approved restaurant, replete with pachinko-parlor lighting, but we noticed it was missing something: customers. We initially took our exclusive entrance at closing time to be a sign of good fortune—until the wine arrived. When a cabernet sauvignon arrives in a frosted glass, “sommelier” is a term best used loosely. In this case, the oenological victim was Frank, who practically retched when the “wine” touched his lips. The fluid in the glass possessed the exact color and viscosity of Redline MT-90 synthetic gear oil—and that stuff tastes awful. Needless to say, we ate our dinner quickly.
We returned to Honda the next morning for our second day of hot desert driving. I finished my rounds in time to take our social media guru, Chris Bacarella, out for a few loops to show him the things we evaluate. First, we took the Audi Q7 to the dirt loop, which was a motocross course modified so that it would stress but not kill the SUVs. It began with deep sand then graduated to a severely washboarded section, a few curves, a few dips, and a long straightaway. Then there was a speed hump designed to slow us down followed by more rutted, bumpy twists, the last one long, fast, and banked.
In other words, we should have treated it like a slow driveway, yet most of us saw it as a rally stage. The Audi was spectacular. It did full-throttle four-wheel drifts, yawed predictably to Scandinavian flicks, and landed softly even after the jump, ahem, speed hump. But other SUVs did not comport themselves so effortlessly, instead bashing into their bump stops as they rattled around the course. Why is this comparison important when most of these vehicles spend little real-world time off-road? Because we now know how they would do driving through midtown Manhattan. If you’ve driven in NYC, you know its roads are only slightly less smooth than the motocross course.
We moved on to Honda’s “winding road,” which isn’t a racetrack; it’s a perfectly paved two-lane road with a few hills and valleys. But we treated it like Twin Ring Motegi anyway. It may not be important to most people that the Jaguar F-Pace will drift through most corners like a sports car, but it did, and that added to its point count.
The third day started with some gentle discussions (I say “gentle,” as neither food nor chairs went flying) to whittle the group down to just six finalists. The Audi Q7, GMC Acadia, Mazda CX-9, Mercedes-Benz GLC300, Jaguar F-Pace, and Tesla Model X all impressed us enough that we brought them along for our final two days. Once settled, we bade farewell to Pinch as we headed to the high-desert town of Tehachapi.
Now it was only other motorists and police we needed to look out for. The Tehachapi loop let us drive like ordinary folks, around town, on normal two-lane roads and the freeway, listening for interior rattles and road roar over broken pavement, and noting each car’s outward visibility when there are pedestrians and other cars around.
This is where we learned, for example, that the Mazda CX-9 is more on-edge than a driving instructor after 12 venti lattes. Slowing gradually for a stopped car in front, the Mazda suddenly applied full braking, mistakenly thinking it was helping to avoid a crash when in actuality it nearly caused one. At one point, I was in the Mercedes GLC and following one of the CX-9s when the Mazda screeched to a stop. Minus one point for the Mazda, plus one for the Mercedes and its quick-responding brakes, and score one for Priddle in the Mazda, who picked up her CB radio and taught me how to curse with a beautiful Ontarian accent.
At the end of the two days of street loops, we locked ourselves in a conference room to make the final decision. Invariably, as we discussed each car, someone would become devil’s advocate to defend its honor. It’s easy to get fooled into thinking you’ve found someone tipping his or her hand for their pick of the winner, until he or she blurts out, “Look, I’m not voting for it, I’m just saying …” There’s often a palpable feeling of relief, and we move on.
In reality, each of us should have been able to make a case for each of the finalists to win—or not win—the competition. But sometimes, you sense the discomfort building in the room. That happened as we discussed the Audi Q7. There were great arguments both for and against it, and it seemed we couldn’t come to an agreement as a whole. Then Christian Seabaugh promptly ended the debate with a quick, “Sure, the Audi’s great. But does anyone like it better than last year’s winner, the Volvo XC90?”
Silence. One less car to fight over.
Same thing with the Tesla. Jonny pointed out that it does everything a Model S sedan does, only with self-destructive doors and second-row seats that don’t fold. Done.
But there remained several strong candidates, so we resorted to our traditional process of a simple, anonymous paper ballot. No one forceful personality can overrule the rest in this truly egalitarian vote. When editor-in-chief Loh proclaimed the winner of the election, there was a collective nodding of heads and an audible, “Yep. I can live with that.”
Indeed we all can. Congratulations to the 2017 SUV of the Year, which entered both the competition and the finalist round with so little fanfare but convinced us of its overall excellence. It didn’t have the Tesla’s acceleration, the Jaguar’s handling, the Audi’s infotainment, the GMC’s value, or the Mazda’s feel. But other than some harsh impacts on the hideously abusive motocross track, the Mercedes-Benz GLC did nothing wrong—and so many things right.
Which is more than I can say about Pinch. Next year I’ll step on that little bugger if he squeals on me for speeding.
2017 Motor Trend SUV of the Year Contenders
- Acura MDX
- BMW X1
- Cadillac XT5
- Ford Escape
- Infiniti QX30
- Kia Sportage
- Lexus LX 570
- Lexus RX
- Mercedes-Benz GLS-Class
- Nissan Armada
- Toyota Highlander SE
- Toyota Land Cruiser
- Toyota RAV4
2017 SUV of the Year Finalists
The post What ha’ happen was … Behind the Scenes at 2017 SUV of the Year Testing appeared first on Motor Trend.
Agya Club Indonesia
