Fun motorcyle vs. TT article from Australia
The Canberra Times
September 21, 2001 Friday Final Edition
SECTION: A; Pg. 18
LENGTH: 1153 words
HEADLINE: Nice try, Audi, but no 'religious' conversion
BYLINE: CORBEN STEPHENS
BODY:
OUR WISE old motoring editor is always saying you can't compare apples with oranges.
My view is that apples are over-rated. Despite their mystical doctor-deterring properties, they often taste like a mouthful of flour. The humble orange, meanwhile, is juicy and refreshing. With that out of the way, let's compare a big-ticket sports car with every road-going motorcycle in the country. In our defence, Audi started it. Unenlightened car owners probably think Audi's television advertisement featuring a man who gives away his brutish biker life for the style and refinement of an Audi TT after just one drive is quite reasonable and realistic. In the homes of real riders, this ad is grunted and guffawed at. If you haven't seen the commercial, basically it shows a rider stopping in a tunnel during a rain shower, accepting a lift in a TT and then, hey presto, ending up driving one himself. The campaign is apparently called 'Changing Religions", which is an accurate enough title considering what it's asking us to accept. The ad raises several questions, foremost among which is what colour blouse the rider in question is wearing under his natty red jacket. One would also have to question how he managed to ride in the first place, balancing precariously on his big fat wallet the sort of wallet that could afford to upgrade from a bike worth $20,000 tops to a $92,850 car, on a whim. Putting the nit-picking to one side, could the Audi TT really make anyone give up their card-carrying motorcycles-only mentality? To compare, let's look at the three areas that make riding a bike so special: cornering, acceleration and being at one with the elements. Fortunately, Audi didn't have any tin-top TT coupes to lend out no doubt they were all being driven by credible motoring journalists with less-ludicrous-sounding names so we had to "make do" with a roadster. This could have been part of a cunning plan, as the experience of driving through a national park with both the top and the volume down is far closer to motorcycling than any roofed car could provide. The sensation of being able to see, smell and luxuriate in the world around you is one of the simple pleasures of riding. Stuck behind a rider on a cornering-shy Yamaharley of some kind, driving the Audi seemed to be just as much fun as he was having, with the added bonus of being able to get sunburnt. Then a Yamaha R1 came hurtling towards us from the opposite direction, making a sound like that Viking in the chocolate-bar ad, and dove into a corner, knee down, bike cranked over. You could almost see the smile on his face radiating through his helmet. One passenger commented that just being in the Audi TT puts a smile on your face, and it's true. Riding a bike, however, can leave you with sore facial muscles. Cornering in the Audi TT is about as close as this driver has come to the adrenalin-rushing joy of swooping into turns on a bike. It also has the ability to scare your passenger witless, just like a bike. With a pillion passenger, you can feel them trying to use your ribs as a grater on your lungs when they're frightened. In the Audi it's more subtle, with the passenger treating the door handle like a stress ball and fixing their face in something between a grin and a grimace. Of course, they shouldn't worry because the Audi's quattro all-wheel-drive system gives it all the grip of a cat climbing a Persian wall rug. However, just like on a bike, there is a definite sense of committing yourself to a corner in the TT. In the middle of the cornering experience the driver feels his or her weight shifting into the turn, while the car sits unfeasibly flat and rips through the apex with confidence-inspiring precision. It's as smooth, sense-heightening and satisfying as cornering in a car gets. And yet, compared with even the 1992 model Suzuki GSX-R750M that was my most recent cherished possession, it comes up short. To a non-rider it's hard to explain the exhilaration of cornering quickly on a bike. This is real commitment, seeing the tarmac rushing past like the belt sander it will become if something goes wrong, just inches from your body. Using your weight and every ounce of concentration to get the line through the turn right is just biking bliss. Then, on the exit of the bend, the riotous rush of the bike's acceleration yanks wrists and shoulders and you are propelled towards the next tempting twist in the road. The Audi TT is, of course, no slouch in the power stakes. It loves to be driven hard, revving freely and with no hint of flat spots or turbo lag right up to the 6500rpm redline. There's a wonderful sweet spot in third gear which can be used like a knife to cut a swathe through city traffic, just as you would on a bike. The Audi's 165kW, 1.8-litre turbo-charged engine launches it from 0 to 100km/h in 6.7 seconds. A modern roadbike will be close to 100 miles per hour in that time and will reach our national speed limit in less than three seconds. Furthermore, the lack of any windscreen between the rider and the rush of the wind means the acceleration is felt like a kick from a horse. One co-pilot said the TT felt so fast it seemed possible it might rear up on to its back wheels. Compared to most mere mortal cars, it really is that superior in its acceleration. Bikes don't feel like they're going to rear up, they just get on with doing so. Still, like a bike, it is incredibly difficult not to speed in a TT. Cruise control has obviously been seen as an unsporting addition to such a purist's vehicle, but it would have come in handy. Even going up a hill in sixth gear, just like a bike, the TT always seemed to be desperate to exceed the speed limit. On a totally unrelated topic, could I just say what a fantastic job the Batemans Bay Highway Patrol does. The use of the much-undervalued term "discretion" by these officers should be a lesson to police around the country. I'll leave my explanation for this digression for another time. Where the car wins out is not in the raw performance stakes but in comfort. On the brow-beatingly boring drive from Canberra to Sydney a bike will numb both butt and brain. But in the Audi TT, even the Hume is fun. I must admit, after a few days of cruising, cornering and Cheshire-cat grinning in the TT, I was beginning to be tempted across to the car side. Then I pulled up at the lights next to a 10-year-old Suzuki that would have to have been worth less than $10,000. Not only did the rider not show any interest in the car, he also showed it absolutely no respect, leaving the TT behind on the line as if it were a Kia Rio. It was that experience, combined with the fact that the Audi's price tag could pay for a new Yamaha R1, a Subaru Impreza WRX and a mighty fine round-the-world holiday, that decided the contest. As Melburnians have said to the game of rugby league: nice try, no conversion.
LOAD-DATE: September 21, 2001



