Driving in Australia
Rough and Tumble: Jeep's Cherokee Sport and Trailhawk.
It’s a rare but welcome occasion when A Wheel Thing is able to do a “back to back” of two vehicles of the same class from the same manufacturer. Jeep’s solidly revamped Cherokee is a four model range and A Wheel Thing has backed up the entry level Sport against the top of the tree Trailhawk.
The Donk
Jeep has lobbed a 2.4L four cylinder and 3.2L V6 at the Cherokee; the Sport’s alloy block four (only available in the Sport and somewhat of a misnomer calling it that) pumps 130kW and 229Nm of torque versus the 200kW and 316Nm from the Longitude/Limited/Trailhawk trio. All four get the new nine speed automatic gearbox (no manual options at all) and no paddle shift option either, except only offering a sports shift via the gear lever. Fuel economy is quoted as 8.3L/100km (combined) for the Sport and 10.0L/km (combined) for the Trailhawk. However, as very few would take advantage of the off road capabilities, it’s the urban figure that’s scary: 11.6L and 13.9L. For vehicles that weigh 1600 odd kilos and a curious (as in what adds the extra over the other two off road capable) 1936 kilos, with a nine ratio transmission, these figures are troubling.
The Suit
Compared to previous Cherokees, the current models are almost unrecognisable. Take away the traditional seven bar grille and it’s going to be hard to tell it’s a Jeep. Since the vehicles were released, the big talking point has been the exterior design and, in particular, the nose. In the interests of aerodynamics and pedestrian safety, it’s a long, sleek, laid back design, punctuated by the indicator and LED daytime running lights mounted in an almost eyebrow like cluster, with the headlights reduced in size and placed mid point between bonnet (blackout decal on Trailhawk) and lower bumper. The Sport has plastic inserts where the Trailhawk has the more familiar globes for driving. The Trailhawk also has reprofiled front and rear lower bumpers to allow for better approach and departure angles (29.9 and 32.2 degrees) when offroading, plus sits 36mm higher than the other three. The Sport rides on 225/60/17s and Trailhawk on 245/65/17s.
In profile, the Cherokee has a smooth, rounded, organic look, somewhat akin to Hyundai’s Santa Fe from a couple of years ago and at the rear, that resemblance continues, with the taillight clusters of a similar rounded shape. The 
reverse camera for the Trailhawk is integrated into the rear door however the Sport seems to have it tacked on to the bottom of the door, almost as an afterthought. A simple yet effective touch is an exterior downlight mounted under each of the exterior wing mirrors. Under the skin the Cherokee has a redesigned body utilising high strength steel, providing a better torsional stiffness rating. Combined with new suspension and a nifty frequency sensitive shock absorber system plus speed sensitive electric steering, there’s some great hidden technology.
On The Inside.
Both the Sport and Trailhawk offer five seats, with comfortable and, importantly, supportive seating. The Sport has a mix of dark and light cloth, the Trailhawk beautifully styled leather (with a tastefully embossed Trailhawk at the top), with the addition of a storage locker underneath the front passenger’s backside. All models get soft touch, padded, leather look plastic dashes including stitching. The rear seats are tumble fold plus slide, adding to the reasonable 
cargo space, which also cops a cargo blind and chiller shopping bag. Ergonomically the Trailhawk is identical to the Sport, with the oddly angled, dust gathering, USB/SD card slots in the front console but at least both have the second USB in the centre console storage plus a second 12V socket. In a nice little nod to history, the blackout for the front window strip, right in the centre, has a graphic of the iconic car that started the 
Jeep history. Just in behind that is a storage space, ideal for a small smartphone.
Ignition is done via an electronic key, placed into the slot just to the left of the steering column and the Trailhawk has an added kick, with remote start. Two presses of a button locks the doors and fires up the V6, with the key needing to be in the slot in order to unlock the gear lever. A highlight is the electric tailgate; I’ve tested other cars with the same
feature and they’ve had issues. The Trailhawk’s worked every time. Every time. There’s multiple redundancy with this, with a button in the driver’s area and one inside the cargo area as well.
The Sport has a five inch touchscreen (navigation and audio), the Trailhawk a more readable eight, with another ergonomic flaw for both. It makes sense, especially when (in the case of the Sport) there’s no steering wheel mounted controls, to have the the audio dials as close as possible to the screen (as technology has changed to using this form), not inches below that and at a level forcing the driver to lower their eyeline. Although the Trailhawk has a larger screen and fills the console 
more, it also has the dials lower than where sensible ergonomics should have them. Speaking of the tiller, both feature a good and chunky wheel, allowing a firm grip. The Sport, however, has a tilted wheel to an extraordinary degree, with an extended reach required to touch the top versus a compacted and somewhat uncomfortable hold 
for the bottom. Tech wise, the Trailhawk comes with collision avoidance, park assist, lane change and blind spot warning and more.
Ahead of the driver, the Trailhawk presents a beautiful LCD screen, with information accessed via a four arrow button setup on the tiller. It’s a metallic silver colour, with information covering oil/water temperatures, tyre pressures and more. The fuel gauge is a strip based down on the lower right hand side and looks like the old mechanical strips of the seventies. The Sport has a more restrained screen, more of a bar by bar setup, but still effective.
Road Wise
2.4L four cylinder, 3.2L six cylinder and nine ratio automatic transmission. Guess which combination works better? Yup, the torque of the V6 seems to be more of a match for the auto, shifting crisper and smoother more often. That’s not to say it’s without faults, however the Sport seemed less certain, more indecisive more often. Both are front wheel drive and coming off a front verge and performing a 180 degree turn (turning circles are adequate at around 11 metres) the front end of the Trailhawk seemed more under pressure than the 2WD only Sport. I could feel and hear the squirming, the protest of the drivetrain pushing against the gearbox. The Sport simply turned and made no noise.
On the road, both went about their job with a minimum of fuss, with road noise a touch more apparent in the Sport. 
Handling on tarmac is wonderful, with just enough initial compliance turning into a firm yet unobtrusive rebound. The Sport had a touch more lift off understeer in the curly bits yet was as easily controlled as the Trailhawk via judicious use of the throttle. On the highway, the nine speeder seems unsure at lower revs with the Sport, less so with the Trailhawk, again with the torque being sent down through the chain of command more efficiently. A hard prod on the go pedal sees a drop down through the gears, with the Sport reacting well and the Trailhawk’s dual V6 exhaust being heard for the first time, a metallic but not unpleasant raspy call. Feedback through the tiller is good, with enough conversation to keep the driver informed of what’s happening on the road.
It’s offroad, the Jeep’s genetically driven environment, where the Trailhawk’s extra goodies play harder. The Sport is simply a front wheel drive SUV, the Trailhawk is the Supreme pizza with garlic bread, soft drink and free delivery. It comes with Chrysler’s Selec-Terrain system, a fully electronic setup that switches between off road surfaces (mud, snow, gravel) via the turn of a dial, has a locking rear differential, hill crawl and low range plus, ahead of the Limited and Longitude, has an additional rock program and an extra 31 mm ride height. 
The Sport handled A Wheel Thing’s test track with a measure of nervousness, almost as if it was a talented child being asked to try an adult level high jump; more abrupt bumps and slopes were tackled, albeit at a slower rate and ruts were forded with less surety. The Trailhawk dealt better with these, not unexpectedly, but there was, still, some uncertainty about handling over some of the rougher levels. 
The hill crawl function performed as expected and all modes, including the lower ratio gearing, showed their mettle, but a short throw suspension just never quite felt like imbuing 100% confidence for the driver. Fuel economy is dubious, with closer to ten than nine litres per hundred for the Sport and somewhere in the thirteens for the Trailhawk…
Summing Up.
The Sport has an easy question to answer: which two/front wheel drive SUV that will never see off road duties do you want? The Trailhawk has a tougher ask; better torque, a better feature set BUT, how much of it compared to the middle two models makes it cost effective? It’s nice to have the safety features like collision avoidance (something a well trained driver should have learned), remote start and electric tailgate but the 
extra off road program, locking rear etc, compared to the Limited and Longitude, given they cop the same engine/gearbox as the Trailhawk? Price is, then, another consideration: Trailhawk asks $47K plus and, yes, you get a finely built car with some great toys. But, is the extra cost worth the extra features, features that, in all honesty, the huge majority of people wouldn’t know how to use or desire to use? The Sport is $33500, Longitude and Limited $39000 and $44000 respectively…so, IS the Trailhawk worth the extra $3500 over the Limited or $8500 over the Longitude, given the same engine/gearbox combination?
I know I’d take the Trailhawk if it was strictly between the Sport and it because I would use the offroad programs and the remote start/electric tailgate worked for me, they’re small yet usable luxury touches. In a faceoff, the Trailhawk wins for me. head to www.jeep.com.au for all of the info.
Video reviews: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1-EFTSyBcY&feature=em-upload_owner
and: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0HzV23a_eiI&feature=youtube_gdata
Model Range: Cherokee Sport, Longitude, Limited, Trailhawk.
Engine: 2.4L L4, 3.2L V6.
Power/Torque: (2.4L ) 130kW/229Nm, (3.2L) 200kW/316Nm.
Transmission: 9 speed automatic (no manual).
Driven wheels: Front (4WD via Selec-Terrain on Longitude, Limited, Trailhawk)
Fuel: Unleaded (91RON).
Tank: 60L.
Dimensions: Sport 4623mm (L) x 1859mm (W) 1631mm (H), Trailhawk 4626mm x 1904mm x 1686mm.
Wheelbase: 2700mm.
Clearance: 185mm, 221mm.
Fuel Economy: 8.3/11.6/6.3L per 100km (combined/urban/highway), Sport; 10.0/13.9/7.7L per 100km, Trailhawk.
Price: Sport @ $33500 + ORCs, Trailhawk @ $47500 + ORCs
A Positive Charge: Proton Suprima S
Take a dash of Impreza hatchback, add a splash of Honda and toss in Lotus fettled underpinnings and there’s the Proton Suprima S. A Wheel Thing has been granted access to three Proton cars, kicking off with the aforementioned Suprima S, followed by the people mover styled Exora and wrapping up with the Preve’ sedan.
The Suprima S is a two model range, the GX and GXR with a single engine and transmission option. The donk is a 1.6L, four cylinder, turbo petrol kit, butting up against a CVT with a preprogrammed, seven ratio manual shift operated by the gearshift and (in the GXR) paddle 
shifts. There’s 103kW on tap at 5000rpm and a linear delivery of torque, 205Nm from 2000 to 4000 revs. It’s not a rapid mover, with Proton quoting a tick under ten seconds to hit 100 kmh. It feels a bit quicker than that and the CVT certainly aids in a constant feel of “push in the back”, with a seamless, ongoing delivery that belies what the speedo says. The engine itself is smooth, quiet however there’s a constant and irritating moan from somewhere directly in front of the passenger seat. It’s noticeable and intrusive, from ignition on to off and detracts from the driving experience. Economy wasn’t as good as expected; the Suprima has a smallish 50 litre tank on board and was drained at around 9 litres per hundred.
The Suprima rolls on 16 or 17 inch alloys, depending on spec; the test car provided was the GXR and had European Continental rubber, 
215/45/17s and provide superb grip. However, on coarse chip roads there’s too much road noise, to the point conversation is hard inside the cabin. The low sidewall height also exacerbates the taut suspension; as good as it is, by ironing out the ripples and undulations, it sharpens the edge of a bump that a softer or higher sidewall would absorb. As a driver that prefers a sporting oriented suspension, I think the overall combination is too tight which would be more of a deal breaker for the average steerer. When thrown, hard, into turns, the Suprima hangs on nicely, there’s minimal understeer into turns, with the suspension holding the chassis flat. But over the reflective cat’s eyes or ripples designed to alert drivers they’ve reached the road’s edge, the reaction is more instant, harsh and intrusive. Given the GX sits on slightly narrower 205s, but with 55 profile on 16 inch rims, I’d suggest that would be the slightly more accommodating ride for bumps. On the freeway, the Suprima GXR takes imperfections such as dips in its stride, essentially flattening out the tarmac and the ride, on a smoother surface, is comfortable and, for a sporty driver, enjoyable.
The Suprima S has a design split personality. The exterior is clean, sleek, with the profile resembling the aforementioned Impreza, the front somewhat Honda-ish and the rear has a touch of Mazda. It’s a mostly harmonious conglomerate and easy enough on the eyes. 
LED running 
lights, auto folding mirrors, reverse camera, front and rear parking sensors and LED powered 
tail lights offer a nice bit of external tech. The inside, however, is the Achilles heel of the Suprima. Hard and sharp edged plastics, colour schemes for the dash plastics and display and a layout that were out of date five years ago, a gear lever that feels cheap butting up against modern tech in the form of an Android operating system based touch screen for radio/navigation. It’s an odd and jarring design. Ergonomically, there’s a couple of things that don’t work, such as placing the hatch release in the driver’s door pocket and a need to put the key fob into a slot, click it in then press a Start button, that’s overdoing it for the sake of looking good. The seats are covered in machine made leather, they’re well padded, supportive and provide enough lateral body holding through turns but the driver’s position feels high; looking through the front window leaves the eye searching for an end point, a measure of where the nose is but can only see the window line itself. Interior room is fine for two adults and two children, however the dimensions wouldn’t comfortably allow a third person for the back seat.
Safety is covered by airbags all round including curtain ‘bags plus the usual suite of driver aids.
Under way the 1.6L turbo delivers, it’s a more than competent handling setup bar the sharpness occasionally, but a dated interior, road noise and engine bay moan dull an otherwise enjoyable package. Go here for information: http://www.protonsuprimas.com.au/
and for pricing contact your local Proton dealer or speak to Private Fleet.
Misplaced Accent From Hyundai
It’s a sad, sad, situtation, sang Elton John, about what I don’t know, however, for A Wheel Thing, it could apply to having a major manufacturer having two cars so very close to each other that one of them is potentially superfluous. Hyundai has the Accent (a nameplate used to deflect hangover angst about the unlamented Excel) and the i30. They’re both very similar, down to the previous model i30 looking almost exactly like the current Accent. A Wheel Thing spent time with the 2014 Accent SR and asks why the Accent is still here. It’s a five door hatch, the SR supplied was in a smooth metallic grey and funky looking alloys inside 195/50/16 Kumho rubber, has LED daylight running lights sweeping around and under the slimline headlights and the long, vertical tail lights that neatly integrate into the sheetmetal and sweep into the roofline underneath a modest spoiler. There’s two solid crease lines,one from atop the front wheel arch and 
running to the reverse light section in the tail lights, the other breaking up the solidity at the bottom of the doors. 
It’s not unattractive, with the ID subtle by having a single SR badge on the hatch lid. At the front there’s the signature, subtle, hexagonal imprint in the design, flanked by a pair of cornering lamps. Lay the profile side by side with the previous i30 and you’d be forgiven for thinking they’re twins. The Accent hatch is 4115mm long x 1700mm wide by 1450mm in height, wheelbase is 2570mm and front/rear track is 1493/1489mm. Under the bonnet is a GDI (gasoline direct injection) 1.6L four potter, offering 103 kilowatts and 167Nm (6300/4850 revs respectively) through a six speed manual (in the test car supplied, auto available) with a slightly lower spec available with the MPI (multi point injection) power plant. It’s a slick gearchange, with no real weight but just enough to give feeling whilst the gate is a touch close with first and third sometimes becoming the gear selected but not wanted; more often than not it was third when I wanted first. 
Clutch is well synchronised in its pressure and pickup point, offering the chance to move the lever quicker through the gate at higher revs. It’s a competent package all round, but the lack of torque is noticed against the 1600 odd kilo gross vehicle weight. Hyundai quotes 6.1L/100 km (combined) from its 43 litre tank, which seems pretty much on the mark. The interior is basic but functional, centred around a matt coat five inch touchscreen for radio and auxiliary inputs. Not unexpectedly, with 
Hyundai’s continuing focus on build quality, it’s ergonomic, a good mix of plastics to the look and touch, with a simple yet effective 
sweeping design to the dash. Aircon controls are the same, simple yet effective, with colour coding for temperature and icons for the speed and direction. The driver’s view is as equally simply effective, with two no nonsense dials for revs and speed bisected by a monochrome LCD display for fuel and temperature with the steering wheel also basic with minimal controls, limited to audio and cruise with Bluetooth phone controls attached
to the buttons around the touchscreen. Seats are cloth trimmed, manually adjusted, well padded yet not as snug on the support to the body. 
Cargo space is considerable for the size, with up to 600L available. On the road the Australian refined suspension is noticeable, with subtle refinements to the McPhersion strut front/torsion bar rear, providing a smooth and refined ride. Powered through some roads that are tight, twisty, off camber, the Accent surprises by being nimble, adhesive, flexible, rarely unflustered by sudden directional changes, absorbing the bumps and transmitting little through to the cabin. Steering input is somewhat numb however, with no real information feeling as if it’s been transmitted back to the driver and brakes haul up the Accent nicely and minimal fuss. The Kumho tyres are fairly quiet on coarse chip road surfaces and the overall feeling is of quiet control.
The reason A Wheel Thing queries the need for the Accent is this: the i30 offers a 1.6L diesel or petrol 1.8L and 2.0L, with the 1.8L not providing that much extra torque or power. Overall dimensions (4300 x 1780 x 1470mm) are again barely different from the Accent; weight is lighter in the Accent (i30 is 1850 kg GVM) and fuel economy really isn’t that much different for the i30, being an extra litre per 100km quoted. The overall feature set in the i30 (http://www.hyundai.com.au/vehicles/i30sr/specification-range isn’t enough to really differentiate apart from a 7 inch screen and some interior design touches. So, Hyundai, why keep the Accent, especially that in your normal passenger range it’s this or the Elantra (another confusing entry to the Hyundai passenger range given the i30’s quality), not the i something nomenclature. With a sedan available in both levels (i30 and Accent) also, the Accents stacks up against the i30 with no seemingly obvious (to A Wheel Thing, at least) need to have it. Regardless, it is a good car and info can be found here: http://www.hyundai.com.au/vehicles/accent/specification—range At the time of writing Hyundai have factory pricing specials so contact your Hyundai dealerfor information.
What They Didn’t Teach At Driving School
More years ago than I really like to think about, I got a few lessons from a professional driving instructor before I went and sat the practical driving test for my licence. To this day, I’m really, really good at three-point turns, which was the main skill that my lessons covered – as far as I can remember; it was quite a few years ago.
Driving schools and “proper” driving courses are usually great at covering the basic skills of driving – road rules, use of gears, use of brakes, watching out for hazards, changing lanes and so forth. This is the sort of driver education most of us think about when the topic of training young drivers comes up. A few of us also think about the track-based courses, where you get to practice handling a car in a “risky” situation in a comparatively safe place. They’ve certainly got their merits, if you’re lucky enough to have access and/or the funds to attend one of these courses.
However, there are a number of things that they don’t teach you in these courses. They just can’t, for simple logistic reasons. There are some things that you have to learn the hard way (hopefully not too hard!). Things like the following:
- Backing a trailer down a windy driveway. I still can’t do this very well, although I don’t usually have to, as my other half is an expert at it. (Niche market, anybody?)
- Coupling up a trailer, caravan or other thing to be towed.
- Driving with a caravan or horse trailer on the back. A lot of driving instructor vehicles tend to be little hatchbacks along the lines of Suzuki Swifts, which may explain this one.
- How to tow another vehicle that’s broken down – and how to “drive” the car that’s being towed.
- Driving at night. Driving instructors have a life… (More niche market potential here.)
- Driving long-distance and learning how to cope with fatigue.
- Driving in extreme weather conditions – heavy rain, frost, snow, fog, strong winds… You can’t arrange what the weather is going to do during your scheduled slot, no matter how much you want to practice driving in wet weather. I suppose a very good track-based course might be able to give some practical training in these under controlled conditions with the use of fog machines and fire hoses, but the cost of these would be through the roof. I guess simulators might be able to do it but again, these are pricey.
- Driving in extreme weather conditions while towing.
- Driving through a mob of sheep or cows being moved down the road.
I was going to add driving a 4×4, as this was something I had to learn the hard way when my folks got a Mitsubishi Chariot, but there are proper courses for off-road driving in a 4×4 these days.
Where you learn to drive can also affect what’s covered by a “proper” driving course, as opposed to the teaching you get from your parents. Teenagers learning to drive in rural areas get good at open-road driving, dirt roads and going through stock, but aren’t so hot at multi-lane roundabouts and parking in tight spaces. With urban teenagers, it’s the reverse. So if you’ve got a teenager, make sure that you get them to drive in a lot of contexts. As a parent of a teenager learning to drive, I’m certainly going to make sure that my son gets a go at all of these as much as possible.
Level 2, 9 Help Street