V50 station wagon is a safe investment

By Brian Sy, Special to the Town Crier

It shouldn’t counter intuition that Volvo isn’t the biggest risk-taker. Like other European automakers, these successful Swedes were aching to expand downmarket, but weren’t willing to go it alone.

So at the turn of the millennium, Volvo tiptoed into the small luxury segment with the S40, basically a rebadge of the Mitsubishi Carisma - a car utterly lacking in the very quality it misspelled. British magazine Car declared it one of the eight worst cars in England.

But Volvo’s getting more selective about its partners. OK, maybe the fact Ford swallowed it whole had some influence. The new generation of Volvos - including the V50 T5 AWD station wagon I drove - stand on Ford Focus running gear. But Volvo strapped in its own engines, threw in two stickshifts and a fifth gear in the automatic, and made all-wheel-drive optional - all marked advances over the previous 1.9-liter turbo 4 that struggled to push the front wheels. The platform is also completely different, now put together in the world waffle capital, Belgium. Still, the question remains: Would this be another pseudo-luxury car unable to escape its humble origins, or did a deserving piece of machinery somehow emerge?

I’m no biologist, but I couldn’t detect more than a mild trace of Focus DNA in this Volvo. Steering that sings with Mariah Carey-like passion in the Ford got reduced to a Paula Abdul simulation in the Volvo. Unlike the Focus’ unyielding gas pedal, the V50 might have the most gradual throttle tip-in I’ve experienced - still extreme, but far more preferable. If its response were just a little quicker, it would feel as perfect as the brakes, which stop the car seriously short. These two cars would have felt more similar if my V50 didn’t have all-wheel-drive or the turbo.

But it did, and here’s where this V50 really sets itself apart: speed. It’s hard not to notice an extra 88 horses (218 total), especially when they let you scoot to 60 mph in 6.9 seconds. There are the occasional sudden power surges endemic to any automatic-turbo car, but when the turbo’s spooled up, the V50’s 8 psi of boost zip it forward at a competitive pace, leaving its sibling and predecessor far behind.

Power delivery comes courtesy of five cylinders. The good news is that with 2.5 liters of engine onboard, the V50 feels more capable than Audi’s 2-liter turbo 4 when driving off the boost. The bad news is that there’s less reason to turn it on, as the engine’s flat and undistinguished tone pales next to Audi’s intoxicating growl. For sonic satisfaction, five cylinders is either one too many or one too few.

Handling, too, takes on the theme of passive excellence. Volvo’s all-wheel-drive was programmed for peace of mind over performance, sending all power to the front by default. Tire grip falls just short of sports car territory, thanks to my tested V50’s optional 17×7-inch wheels and stiffer suspension. Again the V50 proves the opposite of the tail-twitchy Focus: Despite the superior weight balance of our all-wheel-drive wagon, only the front end goes when traction (finally) runs out, the not-so-fun phenomenon known as understeer. Makes sense. Understeer is perceived as less of a control-loss situation than oversteer, which no doubt sits better with the safety-first crowd.

Speaking of safety, Volvo offers an optional stability system with no less than four elements. There’s TC (Traction Control) which works like your average limited-slip differential by transferring power left or right to the wheel with greater grip. SC (Spin Control), which many other makers call traction control, reduces torque to the wheels when necessary. AYC (Active Yaw Control) makes the greatest contribution by braking individual wheels strategically to prevent skids. Finally EBA (Emergency Brake Assistance) is there to ramp up braking force when a panic stop is sensed. Traction Control is the only one Volvo lets you turn off.

No matter how you drive, the five-speed Geartronic automatic gets two thumbs up for its savvy gear picking and for the absolute freedom it grants. It never upshifts or downshifts for you, and if you’re so inclined, you can even stress the innards by launching the car in third gear.

I’d say this is one car better off without the sport package, which doesn’t do the ride any favors. It might not qualify as harsh, but all the rockin’ and rollin’ going on would not sit well with Lexus owners. At least the suspension is refined in its transactions, thumping solidly instead of crashing or banging like some cheaper cars might.

Through it all, an average of 25 mpg in mostly freeway driving sounds about right. However, gas mileage was a schizophrenic mystery, jumping from 19 to 28 to 23 to 29 mpg over four fill-ups despite few changes in driving style. Glitc on the first tank, the gauge fluctuated randomly between empty and full.

Despite the imperfections, I never felt that I was driving anything less than a premium car.

The feelings of premium-ness and Audi-ness continue inside. Sometimes that means making you work more than you should, like cranking an annoying knob to adjust the passenger seat. Other times it means the car is doing more work than you want, like a turn signal set to blink three times. The rest of the time, it just means pleasing, high-class surroundings with a refreshingly original presentation.

Volvo did all the work here; none of Ford’s parts made the cut. Our V50’s “T-tec” cloth is a unique nylon-like material that’s as grippy as it is comfortable; I wouldn’t pass it up. The well-shaped seats are kind to the lower body. Not so much to the top, thoug lean back to relax and the far-forward head restraints slump the neck forward.

Ergonomics will please and intrigue. The smooth-operator key slot sits nice and high on the dash and the chime is among the kindest I’ve heard. Phone-style ergonomics control the radio (10 presets!), while the climate controls are marked with intuitive diagrams. A computer menu screen divides them and everything sits on a classy strip of aluminum that hides some storage space behind it. It’s apparent the Swedish way differs from the German or Japanese way. It’s also apparent that nothing in here is in danger of collapsing like cheap furniture.

Only three complaints: The window switches activate their auto-up mode too easily. The stereo takes too long to find its presets, and unless reception is crystal clear it abandons its search, leaving you with silence. And the numerous steering wheel buttons are identical to the touch. Some might not like how the back windows barely go more than halfway down, though that might give some parental security.

Three big guys overwhelm the back seat in this narrow car, but for smaller adults and kids it’s a whine-free zone. The seats are firm and supportive, feet can tap around under the front seats, and the driveline hump down the middle is nearly as modest as that of a front-wheel-drive car - nice packaging there. Everyone has adjustable head restraints positioned correctly in back. Verdict: You might not fit but it’s great if you do. Folding down the seat expands the cargo hold from 14.7 cubic feet to a giant 62.9. The V50 swallowed me, three passengers and all our weekend-getaway stuff with no problem.

The V50 2.4i, coming only as an automatic, packs 166 hp and 170 pounds-feet of torque - enough to get by - and starts at $26,685. The turbocharged T5 model adds a $2,820 premium, starting at $29,505 after adding the $1,200 automatic. All-wheel-drive costs a final $1,775 as the automatic V50 T5 AWD begins at $31,280. Note: The engine on T5 models displaces 2.5 liters instead of 2.4. The V50’s price, luckily, excuses it from comparison with BMW’s 325iT and Mercedes’ C240 wagons.

As expected, V50s come standard with antilock brakes, four save-your-butt driving aids, integrated child booster seats, 3-point belts and head restraints in all seats, and air bags up the wazoo: two adaptive dual-stage ones in front (the passenger’s side deactivates if no one is present), two in the front-side, and two inflatable curtains on the side for everyone’s head. The steering column and pedals collapse in a crash, the front belts have pre-tensioners, and the “WHIPS” front seats absorb rear-end whiplash. Volvo even crash-tested a V50 without the engine to see how far the structure would crumple, then redesigned the engine to be untouchable in such an event.

Volvo aced the government’s crash test, scoring the highest or next-to-highest in every category. That’s cum laude.

Volvo against the Saab and Audis is a close call. Volvo against its Ford and Mazda siblings mostly comes down to a simple question: Would you risk your child’s life to save $6,000?

Sy, a Palo Alto High graduate with ties to Los Altos, writes for automotive.com.