Top secret
THE Volkswagen Eos owes its name to the Greeks -- Eos was the Titan goddess of the dawn, so the antiquarians at VW inform us -- but owes its existence to the Vandals. In the 5th century, these indifferently groomed Germanic tribesmen raped and pillaged their way across Europe, stealing car stereos as they went.
The Vandals finally, famously sacked Rome in 455. Since then, Vandals have been synonymous with wanton destruction (unless you’re a University of Idaho fan, in which case they’re synonymous with mediocre Division I football).
Modern convertible tops can do many things: Keep out the cold, the wet, the wild whistle of 100 mph. They’re routinely fitted with heated glass backlights. They’re tighter than Britney’s pre-nup. But they can’t repel the dullest dime store knife or hobby-shop razor. All it takes is five seconds and -- ZCHITTTT -- some malicious, tweaked-to-the-nines mental defective is performing a laparotomy on your ride. Drop the knife, Rev. Haggard!
Thus the salient advantage of the proliferating class of retractable hardtops: security. Though it’s certainly possible to violate the sanctity of a retractable hardtop with, say, a brick through the window, such ingress requires more commitment and makes a lot more noise.
Four-seat retractables are getting to be thicker than flies on an Angelides campaign playbook. In addition to the Pontiac G6 and Volvo C70, the self-peeling 2007 BMW 3-series coupe, the 2008 Chrysler Sebring convertible and the rumored 2009 Ford Mustang convertible are all on the horizon.
What do you notice about this list, besides it being in the world’s worst alphabetic order? The cars are all over the map -- big, small, expensive, cheap. The only commonality is that they all have two doors, but how long before Webasto, ASC or Karmann engineers a retractable-hardtop sedan? A Mercedes-Benz S-class with a retractable hardtop? Meow.
And now we have the Eos, a stand-alone model in VW’s lineup (not a low-volume riff like the Pontiac G6 retractable). Size-wise, it fits between the Golf/Rabbit and the Jetta. In broad strokes, the Eos is a four-seat, front-drive compact cabriolet, powered (in the U.S. market) by either a 2.0-liter, 200-hp turbocharged four-cylinder or the more carbonated 3.2-liter, 250-hp V6.
Prices range from ($28,620) for just plain “Eos” with a six-speed manual to more than $38,000 for a fully optioned Eos 3.2L with the six-speed, dual-clutch automatic, which is just rolling into U.S. dealerships now. Most of the 12,000 Eoses (Eoi, Eoem?) VW hopes to sell annually here will be the midline 2.0T model, powered by the turbocharged and intercooled, direct-injection engine -- the same as in the punchy VW GTI.
At a press event in Arizona last week, I drove a feature-encrusted 3.2-liter, and it was seriously fast. There’s a “TBD” in the VW press kit beside “top speed.” I can help them out with that. And even this car gets more than decent mileage (22/29 mpg, city/highway).
As much as I like the new Volvo C70, the Eos just crushes it in the car-for-money department. A comparably equipped Eos 2.0T is about $10,000 cheaper than a Volvo C70. I mean, I’m obsessed with Ingrid Bergman and all, but 10 grand?
The Eos’ claim to plein-air fame is its novel top. A tilt-and-slide tinted-glass sunroof is incorporated into the five-panel mechanism, which VW’s cryptologists have dubbed a “CSC” for “coupe-sunroof-convertible” top. That’s awfully cute. The sunroof also offers an extremely effective pop-up deflector that dramatically cuts wind noise at supra-highway speeds.
In the half-dozen opening and closing cycles I witnessed, the roof’s movements were precise and fluid, the pieces shuffling quietly and silkily into place. That’s reassuring. Some retractable roofs on the market move as if they are lubricated with ketamine.
In top-up repose, the Eos is an unremarkably attractive car. Top-down, the Eos is one awesome-looking transvestite. About 7 inches shorter than the new Volvo C70 and a full foot-and-a-half shorter than the Pontiac G6, the Eos doesn’t suffer those cars’ strange, lazy dimension between the door and the rear wheel well. The Eos is bandy, wedgy and well-balanced, with crisp lateral tensors along the shoulder line and rocker panel and a hood that pours into the mirrored grille surround.
The overwhelming sensation of the Eos is that it’s approximately twice the car it ought to be for the money. For an open-top car it has this deep, fundamental stoutness -- no cowl shake, no chassis frisson when the car hits rough patches, no twitters anywhere. Our test car came with the Sport package, including 18-inch wheels , a stiffer suspension, brushed alloy interior trim and French-stitched Napa leather seats. Options include road-following bi-xenon headlights, DVD navigation and a whopping audio package that would drown out the howling of the damned.
This sense of quality is writ large and small. In a lot of convertibles, the windshield header sticks out over the cabin, making it awkward to get in and out and also blocking views of traffic lights. The Eos’ headliner is well away from the driver’s face. This subtle change opens up the cockpit ambience beautifully. Also, despite all the roof hardware abaft of the cockpit, there’s still a ski pass-through feature in the back seat. Very nice.
And speaking of the poop deck: In the 2.0T, the trunk measures 10.5 cubic feet when the top is up, which is plenty for a car this size. With the top down, the trunk measures 6.6 c.f. -- still, not bad (the Pontiac G6 offers a meager 2.2 c.f. with the top down). But for reasons I can’t rightly fathom, in the Eos 3.2L, the numbers are 9.3/5.4 c.f.
The Eos’ interior decor is what we’ve come to expect of VW lately: dense, pebbled vinyl dash materials, serenely technical instrumentation, affirmative switches and logical layout. A keen impression of quality and competence. Just terrific.
Out on the big asphalt conveyor belt that is the Arizona highway system, the Eos 3.2L motored along with effortless good cheer. Zero-to-60 mph acceleration comes in at the mid-6-second mark. The V6’s generous coal-hod of naturally aspirated torque in the basement means that the car is almost never at a loss for blurt. Meanwhile, the cybernetic six-speed automatic shuffles gears like online poker shuffles cards.
Yare and entertaining, the Eos with the biggie wheels corners with a nice, level behavior. As in all VWs these days, the ride compliance is agreeably firm in the European style, not floaty. The electric steering is rich with feedback with a reassuring heft dialed into its algorithms. The big brakes -- abetted by all manner of anti-lock, traction and stability controls -- are smooth and muscular. The Eos also has door-mounted side air bags (like the Volvo) and pop-up rollover hoops if the worst should occur.
Well, it seems rosy-fingered Eos has pillaged my heart. You know what? I don’t care. This car should be rewarded in the marketplace (it’s already the bestselling retractable in Europe). VW is rallying. Obviously, a lot of its clientele remains suspicious on matters of quality, and this car’s density of gadgets will probably not reassure them. Time, and J.D. Power, will tell.
Meantime, I’d sure drag one off by the hair.
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(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX)
2007 VW Eos 3.2L
Base price: $37,480
Price, as tested: $42,330
Powertrain: 3.2-liter, DOHC, 24-valve, narrow-angle V6 with variable-valve timing; front-wheel drive.
Horsepower: 250 at 6,300 rpm
Torque: 235 pound-feet at 2,500-3,000 rpm
Curb weight: 3,686 pounds
0-60 mph: 7 seconds
Wheelbase: 101.5 inches
Overall length: 173.5 inches
EPA fuel economy: 22 miles per gallon city, 29 mpg highway
Final thoughts: Solar-powered
