10-19-2012, 04:38 PM
First, I just want to apologize to El Jefe for what we are about to recieve.
Here on vacation again. Flew into Tampa and rented another car. Since I brought my parents, I decided to spend the extra cash and reserved a "Full Size"...
I was expecting like a Lincoln or a Charger or maybe a 300 or an Impala or something.
What I got was an import...from Detroit: (Well, Sterling Heights)
![[Image: 2012-10-19_15-33-07_845.jpg]](https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/--qHDjR5VZ0Y/UIGrSkuPHZI/AAAAAAAABJE/Z9K6J8jkbeg/s800/2012-10-19_15-33-07_845.jpg)
A 2011 Chrysler 200.
Dear Chrysler,
![[Image: 28642023.jpg]](http://cdn.memegenerator.net/instances/400x/28642023.jpg)
Seriously, this is the biggest hunk of shit I've ever had the pleasure to drive. I've driven an HHR, and a Chevy Cobalt and a goddam *old school* Ford Taurus but this thing trumps them all for stankitude.
I would like to bring your attention first to the badge. Or rather, the blank spot where the badge should be. Somewhere in the 35000 miles between the factory floor and the keys being handed to me by the rude Hertz lady, the front badge decided it'd had enough, and committed suicide. I had to get the Hertz guy (pick up the car from a different person I pay of course) to give me a pre-ride inspection, because the beast had scratches and marks all through the paint. I would swear a pack of Star Wars Trading Cards had fewer holograms than this thing. I should have asked for a new car there and then, but how bad could it be? It's only a year old!
To start, my dad knocked his noggin on the back sill of this "full size" car no fewer than four times before he got the hang of ingress and egress. The bizzare roofline seemed tailor-made to punish my father for being so impudent as to not genuflect before entering the back seat. Throwing our luggage in the trunk (again, NOT a compact car, a "full size") I could not get 4 persons worth of checked luggage plus carry-ons to fit without compressing them. The weirdly shaped trunk opening meant that the two roller bags couldn't fit side by side logitudally, (leaving room on either side) so I had to sort of play tetris with the damned luggage to even get it in the trunk. Once in, I needed a foot to compress the luggage in order to shut the lid. It did, however, shut. Once in the car, the interior was...black. Really the only thing I can say about it it. Utterly unremarkable, scientifically designed to be as inoffensive as possible. It was the lukewarm bathwater of interiors. I insert the key, the car sputters to live, and I set the PRND+- to "D". (Knowing better from my Mustange experience, I don't bother with +-...I will just be disappointed)
I put my foot on the accelerator, and the car revs (going nowhere) then accelerates with a stiff jerk, though the angle of the pedal stays the same. Like the mustang, the engine and transmission do not seem so much as connected to the throttle by pedal as much as telegraph. Or maybe smoke signal. The stecatto messages of (what I can only assume to be) the e-throttle asking the ECU nicely if it may have more torque and the ECU responding in a panic'd "TORQUE? DEAR GOD MAN, GIVE HIM AS MUCH TORQUE AS POSSIBLE" which is about as much as could be mustered by paddling of the average Canada Goose. The engine accelerates through the gearbox to 5k rpm's, resulting in quite a bit of sturm but woefully minute amounts of drang if you catch my meaning.
Once on the highway and at speed, I adjust my mirrors which I am happy to report are both A. present and B. in good working order. Which is a blessing in that while it may not *look* like a full size car it most definitely has full size blind spots. Maybe that's how they measure the "size" of the car at Hertz? Not nearly so bad as the mustang, though. Julie, thankfully, will actually be able to operate this one.
were getting a hint of rain, so I give the wiper stalk a little smack. The "mist" setting obediently operates. Good. The rain sets in heavier, so I firmly grasp the stalk and push it downwards. It resists me. I push harder. The resistance persists. "WHAT THE BLUE HELL" I look down at the stalk and see a dial on the end. Adjusting the dial gets me the wipers. This is exactly the opposite of how it should be. I have no idea which direction I should be turning, nor how much wiper I will get if I turn it. Just gotta turn and hope for the best. I turn through the delay, and find "low". Fine. Whatever, now we wont' die.
I turn on the AC (it's florida, after all) and it works, thank Zeus. But about every 45 seconds it makes a disturbing death rattle that I can actually feel through the steering. Some frost gnome deep within the compressor has had about enough of his servitude, and will soon escape his freon cell, I suspect. As long as his spirit is contained until Saturday, I'll not care what happens after.
Driving the 200 is relatively uneventful. The radio is tinny, the steering wheel controls for it being utterly unlabeled, their function discovered only through experimentation. The vents resist being angled towards any such location as a passenger might reside, instead opting to cool the spaces in between. While the air was cold, the fan left a great deal to be desired. More a baby's breath than a icy nor'easter.
The engine, it shall be no surprise, is a turd. The transmission for some odd reason decides to periodically give a thunk, lest you ignore it. The upshifts are so jarring as to almost upset the car. The engine is pretty quiet, though maybe not as much as one would think as road noise seems to be transmitted from every surface in the cabin.
The doors lock when you accelerate beyond 15mph, but do not unlock when the PRND is placed in "P", nor when a passenger opens their door. It is only when the driver opens the door that the rest unlock, although presumably this is programmable. The key, hilariously, has a trunk button AND a convertible top button, though they both operate the trunk. The car honks when locked, but gives no obvious sign when unlocked, leaving me to press the button 10 times to make sure my passenger can enter the car.
It does appear to get good fuel economy, somewhere in the low 30's. So there's that.
I also want to talk about the styling for a minute. I really like the Chrysler 'Neuvo Art Deco' styling of the 300 and the crossfire and the like. It's not for everyone sure, but the large wings and chrome and BIGness of the styling do speak to me, and I like it. Except, of course, with this car, where it's painfully obvious the styling is just a poor quality veneer over a pretty awful car. A Dodge Avenger is at least honest in being a humble economy car, but this car puts on airs, reminding me vaguely of the Caddilac Cimaroon in that respect.
The 200 has dramatic aspirations but doesn't back them up, instead being a pathetic attempt to badge engineer a car to ride on the 300's coat tails, and is nothing but an underline in red of everything that is wrong with Traditional American Car Manufacturing.
I'll be glad to be free of it tomorrow.
Here on vacation again. Flew into Tampa and rented another car. Since I brought my parents, I decided to spend the extra cash and reserved a "Full Size"...
I was expecting like a Lincoln or a Charger or maybe a 300 or an Impala or something.
What I got was an import...from Detroit: (Well, Sterling Heights)
A 2011 Chrysler 200.
Dear Chrysler,
Seriously, this is the biggest hunk of shit I've ever had the pleasure to drive. I've driven an HHR, and a Chevy Cobalt and a goddam *old school* Ford Taurus but this thing trumps them all for stankitude.
I would like to bring your attention first to the badge. Or rather, the blank spot where the badge should be. Somewhere in the 35000 miles between the factory floor and the keys being handed to me by the rude Hertz lady, the front badge decided it'd had enough, and committed suicide. I had to get the Hertz guy (pick up the car from a different person I pay of course) to give me a pre-ride inspection, because the beast had scratches and marks all through the paint. I would swear a pack of Star Wars Trading Cards had fewer holograms than this thing. I should have asked for a new car there and then, but how bad could it be? It's only a year old!
To start, my dad knocked his noggin on the back sill of this "full size" car no fewer than four times before he got the hang of ingress and egress. The bizzare roofline seemed tailor-made to punish my father for being so impudent as to not genuflect before entering the back seat. Throwing our luggage in the trunk (again, NOT a compact car, a "full size") I could not get 4 persons worth of checked luggage plus carry-ons to fit without compressing them. The weirdly shaped trunk opening meant that the two roller bags couldn't fit side by side logitudally, (leaving room on either side) so I had to sort of play tetris with the damned luggage to even get it in the trunk. Once in, I needed a foot to compress the luggage in order to shut the lid. It did, however, shut. Once in the car, the interior was...black. Really the only thing I can say about it it. Utterly unremarkable, scientifically designed to be as inoffensive as possible. It was the lukewarm bathwater of interiors. I insert the key, the car sputters to live, and I set the PRND+- to "D". (Knowing better from my Mustange experience, I don't bother with +-...I will just be disappointed)
I put my foot on the accelerator, and the car revs (going nowhere) then accelerates with a stiff jerk, though the angle of the pedal stays the same. Like the mustang, the engine and transmission do not seem so much as connected to the throttle by pedal as much as telegraph. Or maybe smoke signal. The stecatto messages of (what I can only assume to be) the e-throttle asking the ECU nicely if it may have more torque and the ECU responding in a panic'd "TORQUE? DEAR GOD MAN, GIVE HIM AS MUCH TORQUE AS POSSIBLE" which is about as much as could be mustered by paddling of the average Canada Goose. The engine accelerates through the gearbox to 5k rpm's, resulting in quite a bit of sturm but woefully minute amounts of drang if you catch my meaning.
Once on the highway and at speed, I adjust my mirrors which I am happy to report are both A. present and B. in good working order. Which is a blessing in that while it may not *look* like a full size car it most definitely has full size blind spots. Maybe that's how they measure the "size" of the car at Hertz? Not nearly so bad as the mustang, though. Julie, thankfully, will actually be able to operate this one.
were getting a hint of rain, so I give the wiper stalk a little smack. The "mist" setting obediently operates. Good. The rain sets in heavier, so I firmly grasp the stalk and push it downwards. It resists me. I push harder. The resistance persists. "WHAT THE BLUE HELL" I look down at the stalk and see a dial on the end. Adjusting the dial gets me the wipers. This is exactly the opposite of how it should be. I have no idea which direction I should be turning, nor how much wiper I will get if I turn it. Just gotta turn and hope for the best. I turn through the delay, and find "low". Fine. Whatever, now we wont' die.
I turn on the AC (it's florida, after all) and it works, thank Zeus. But about every 45 seconds it makes a disturbing death rattle that I can actually feel through the steering. Some frost gnome deep within the compressor has had about enough of his servitude, and will soon escape his freon cell, I suspect. As long as his spirit is contained until Saturday, I'll not care what happens after.
Driving the 200 is relatively uneventful. The radio is tinny, the steering wheel controls for it being utterly unlabeled, their function discovered only through experimentation. The vents resist being angled towards any such location as a passenger might reside, instead opting to cool the spaces in between. While the air was cold, the fan left a great deal to be desired. More a baby's breath than a icy nor'easter.
The engine, it shall be no surprise, is a turd. The transmission for some odd reason decides to periodically give a thunk, lest you ignore it. The upshifts are so jarring as to almost upset the car. The engine is pretty quiet, though maybe not as much as one would think as road noise seems to be transmitted from every surface in the cabin.
The doors lock when you accelerate beyond 15mph, but do not unlock when the PRND is placed in "P", nor when a passenger opens their door. It is only when the driver opens the door that the rest unlock, although presumably this is programmable. The key, hilariously, has a trunk button AND a convertible top button, though they both operate the trunk. The car honks when locked, but gives no obvious sign when unlocked, leaving me to press the button 10 times to make sure my passenger can enter the car.
It does appear to get good fuel economy, somewhere in the low 30's. So there's that.
I also want to talk about the styling for a minute. I really like the Chrysler 'Neuvo Art Deco' styling of the 300 and the crossfire and the like. It's not for everyone sure, but the large wings and chrome and BIGness of the styling do speak to me, and I like it. Except, of course, with this car, where it's painfully obvious the styling is just a poor quality veneer over a pretty awful car. A Dodge Avenger is at least honest in being a humble economy car, but this car puts on airs, reminding me vaguely of the Caddilac Cimaroon in that respect.
The 200 has dramatic aspirations but doesn't back them up, instead being a pathetic attempt to badge engineer a car to ride on the 300's coat tails, and is nothing but an underline in red of everything that is wrong with Traditional American Car Manufacturing.
I'll be glad to be free of it tomorrow.
1987 Oldsmobile Cutlass 442