By Justin Berkowitz
Back before gas prices scared SUV owners sensible, most CUV’s were “cute utes.” As the SUV exodus gathered pace, several abandoned truck makers figured SUV refugees were a bit half-assed not fully committed to downsizing. They built CUV’s that are only slightly smaller than their SUV’s, only without the towing capacity, off-road ability and, most importantly, extreme thirst. Never one to miss a trick, the transplants have been growing their CUV’s to nibble away at the same market. Case in point: the Hyundai Santa Fe.
The first generation Santa Fe did battle in the ultra competitive compact segment, squaring off against the Honda CR-V and Ford Escape. The new, second gen Santa Fe is larger, more powerful and more expensive. The mondo-model’s sights are firmly set on the new Toyota Highlander and Honda Pilot. To see if the bigger, badder Santa Fe could has what it takes to take on the CUV superstars, I took one for a jaunt around the crossover’s spiritual homeland: the 'burbs.
In “The Planet of the Apes,” Charlton Heston asks a female ape if he can kiss her goodbye. "All right,” she concedes. “But you're so damned ugly." And there you have it. While the Santa Fe wants to help you escape the apes, it’s inescapably hideous. The headlights and grille are mounted too low, at the bottom of a sharply sloping bonnet. The profile is so derivative you could play spot the inference for hours. And the rear looks like an unholy union between a Subaru Forester and B9 Tribeca. In short, I wouldn't be surprised if the ghost of Salvador Dali designed the Santa Fe’s sheetmetal.
Take shelter from the horror (the horror) inside, and the spacious cabin reveals a multiple personality disorder. The detail man nailed all the cool bits: satin trim in all the right places, properly colored plastiwood, prudent placed buttonlogy and cool liquid crystal displays. And then the beancounters stepped in. The seat fabric is made out of polyester Halloween costumes. The switchgear offers all the tactile satisfaction of a single use camera. And the wheel-mounted buttons defy easy operation.
The Santa Fe’s got plenty of safety devices: anti lock brakes, traction and stability control; roof mounted side-curtain airbags, seatbelt pretensioners. The brand faithful elevated gadget count includes a not entirely execrable six-speaker boom box with MP3 compatibility. Surprisingly, electronic marriage protection (a.k.a. satellite navigation) is AWOL. Still, pony up a bit more green, and you can have a nice big sunroof, automatic climate control and a full compliment of Sharper Image-style toys.
In keeping with the new CUV XL paradigm, the Santa Fe’s third row seating is a flagrant violation of The Geneva Convention. Suitable for small children? Only if they're very very bad. (I've squirmed my way into the back of a Porsche 911 more easily– and it was more comfortable.) If you’re looking for a sprog carrier that isn’t a fuel-sucking SUV, GM’s badge-engineered XXL Lambda triplets or a big ass Honda Odyssey are a far better bet. Spec your Sante Fe for five, enjoy the humongous trunk and save $1300.
Prepare for a surprise: driving the Santa Fe doesn't suck. Crank over the DOHC V6 and it’s whisper quiet at idle (even more than a similarly equipped Sonata). Put the Santa Fe’s hammer down and smooth things happen. The [optional] 3.3-liter mill spools up with a pleasant sort of growl, and then pits all of its 242hp and 226 ft. lbs. of torque against the CUV’s 4000 lbs. Thanks to a superslick five-speed autobox, the resulting eight second-ish sprint to sixty is remarkable– although fairly slow in any absolute sense.
That said, if you’re in a hurry, hang onto that steering wheel. Unless you spring for the AWD model, slamming on the Santa Fe’s gas FedExes you a big old box of torque-steer. Driving at more sagacious speeds, the Santa Fe’s power-assisted rack and pinion tiller is like a draftsman’s pen: sharp and accurate. The brakes are also superb and the multi-link rear suspension keeps the beast tied down without degrading ride comfort. As a crossover for hauling Ikea boxes and tackling snowy driveways, not hooning with pistonhead bravado, the Santa Fe is an ideal device.
Captain Farago concluded that Hyundai's Sonata would succeed because it was so neutral, and he was right. The Santa Fe almost gets the same assessment, but for the genetically mutated styling. Still, the Santa Fe is cheap (my nicely equipped SE was only $26k), with a wikkid warranty. Ten years ago, those were the only reasons to buy a Hyundai. With the Sonata, they're an added bonus on top of an already good car. The Santa Fe’s appeal lies somewhere in between. In that sense, the new Santa Fe is a bit of a Korean line dancer: two steps forward, one step back.
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