1983 Volkswagen Rabbit Diesel Pickup With 35gal Grease Tank (83 Vw Veggie Wvo) on 2040-cars

Auto blog

A car writer's year in new vehicles [w/video]

Christmas is only a week away. The New Year is just around the corner. As 2014 draws to a close, I'm not the only one taking stock of the year that's we're almost shut of. Depending on who you are or what you do, the end of the year can bring to mind tax bills, school semesters or scheduling dental appointments. For me, for the last eight or nine years, at least a small part of this transitory time is occupied with recalling the cars I've driven over the preceding 12 months. Since I started writing about and reviewing cars in 2006, I've done an uneven job of tracking every vehicle I've been in, each year. Last year I made a resolution to be better about it, and the result is a spreadsheet with model names, dates, notes and some basic facts and figures. Armed with this basic data and a yen for year-end stories, I figured it would be interesting to parse the figures and quantify my year in cars in a way I'd never done before. The results are, well, they're a little bizarre, honestly. And I think they'll affect how I approach this gig in 2015. {C} My tally for the year is 68 cars, as of this writing. Before the calendar flips to 2015 it'll be as high as 73. Let me give you a tiny bit of background about how automotive journalists typically get cars to test. There are basically two pools of vehicles I drive on a regular basis: media fleet vehicles and those available on "first drive" programs. The latter group is pretty self-explanatory. Journalists are gathered in one location (sometimes local, sometimes far-flung) with a new model(s), there's usually a day of driving, then we report back to you with our impressions. Media fleet vehicles are different. These are distributed to publications and individual journalists far and wide, and the test period goes from a few days to a week or more. Whereas first drives almost always result in a piece of review content, fleet loans only sometimes do. Other times they serve to give context about brands, segments, technology and the like, to editors and writers. So, adding up the loans I've had out of the press fleet and things I've driven at events, my tally for the year is 68 cars, as of this writing. Before the calendar flips to 2015, it'll be as high as 73. At one of the buff books like Car and Driver or Motor Trend, reviewers might rotate through five cars a week, or more. I know that number sounds high, but as best I can tell, it's pretty average for the full-time professionals in this business.

Ferdinand Piech (1937-2019): The man who made VW global

Towering among his peers, a giant of the auto industry died Sunday night in Rosenheim/Upper Bavaria, Germany. Ferdinand Piech, a grandson of Ferdinand Porsche, who conceived the original Volkswagen in the 1930s, was the most polarizing automotive executive of our times. And one who brought automotive technology further than anyone else. Ferdinand Porsche had a son, Ferdinand (called "Ferry"), and a daughter, Louise, who married the Viennese lawyer Anton Piech. They gave birth to Ferdinand Piech, and his proximity to two Alfa Romeo sports cars — Porsche had done some work for the Italians — and the "Berlin-Rome-Berlin" race car, developed by Porsche himself, gave birth to Piech's interest in cars. After his teachers in Salzburg told his mother he was "too stupid" to attend school there, Piech, who was open about his dyslexia, was sent to a boarding school in Switzerland. He subsequently moved on to Porsche, where he fixed issues with the 904 race car and did major work on the 911. But his greatest project was the Le Mans-winning 917 race car, developed at breathtaking financial cost. It annihilated the competition, but the family had had enough: Amid growing tension among the four cousins working at Porsche and Piech's uncle Ferry, the family decided to pull every family member, except for Ferry, out of their management positions. Piech started his own consultancy business, where he designed the famous five-cylinder diesel for Mercedes-Benz, but quickly moved on to Audi, first as an engineer and then as CEO, where he set out to transform the dull brand into a technology leader. Piech killed the Wankel engine and hammered out a number of ambitious and sophisticated technologies. Among them: The five-cylinder gasoline engine; Quattro all-wheel drive and Audi's fantastic rally successes; and turbocharging, developed with Fritz Indra, whom Piech recruited from Alpina. The Audi 100/200/5000 became the world's fastest production sedan, thanks to their superior aerodynamics. Piech also launched zinc-coated bodies for longevity — and gave diesel technology a decisive boost with the advent of the fast and ultra-efficient TDI engines. Less known: Piech also decided to put larger gas tanks into cars. Customers loved it. Piech's first-generation Audi V8 was met with derision by competitors; it was too obviously based on the 200/5000.

The super-sized Atlas isn't the three-row VW should build

In the late '50s and early '60s the Volkswagen Beetle wasn't ubiquitous in my hometown of Lincoln, Nebraska, but it came pretty damn close. Fords and Chevys dominated, but beyond the occasional MG, Triumph, or Renault the import scene was essentially a VW scene. When my folks finally pulled the trigger on a second car they bought a Beetle, and that shopping process was my first exposure to a Volkswagen showroom. For our family VW love wasn't a cult, but our '66 model spoke – as did all Volkswagens and most imports at the time – of a return to common sense in your transportation choice. As VW's own marketing so wonderfully communicated, you didn't need big fins or annual model changes to go grab that carton of milk. Or, for that matter, to grab a week's worth of family holiday. In the wretched excess that was most of Motown at the time, the Beetle, Combi, Squareback, and even Karmann Ghia spoke to a minimal – but never plain – take on transportation as personal expression. Fifty years after that initial Beetle exposure, and as a fan of imports for what I believe to be all of the right reasons, the introduction of Volkswagen's Atlas to the world market is akin to a sociological gut punch. How is it that a brand whose modus operandi was to be the anti-Detroit could find itself warmly embracing Detroit and the excess it has historically embodied? Don't tell me it's because VW's Americanization of the Passat is going so well. To be fair, the domestic do-over of import brands didn't begin with the new Atlas crossover. Imports have been growing fat almost as long as Americans have, and it's a global trend. An early 911 is a veritable wisp when compared to its current counterpart, which constitutes – coincidentally – a 50-year gestation. In comparing today's BMW 3 Series to its' '77 predecessor, I see a 5 Series footprint. And how did four adults go to lunch in the early 3 Series? It is so much smaller than what we've become accustomed to today; the current 2 Series is more substantial. My empty-nester-view of three-row crossovers is true for most shoppers: If you need three rows of passenger capacity no more than two or three times a year – and most don't – rent it forgawdsake. If you do need the space more often, consider a minivan, which goes about its three-row mission with far more utility (and humility) than any SUV.