Toyota C-HR is a fun companion for a mountainous, post-operative journey
2018 Toyota C-HR Hybrid Distinctive: Le gas sipping cute ute.
Price: 35,790 euro as tested, 29,000 for the hybrid and 23,400 for a base model. (That’s $42,105, $34,117, and $27,529 respectively, as of June 6.)
Marketer’s pitch: The hybrid compact crossover that redefines motion.
Conventional wisdom: Top Gear reports “For: Bold design inside and out, pleasant and surprisingly adept chassis; Against: Naff trim, shocking rear vision, droney hybrid.”
Reality: A fun companion for a winding, mountainous, narrow, scary, post-operative journey.
What’s different: The C-HR is available in the United States. Yet nothing like this C-HR is available in the United States.
The Lovely Mrs. Passenger Seat and I tested it during our travels through France — Paris to Nice and back.
It’s not just that the C-HR with Prius drivetrain can’t be had in the U.S., although that’s part of it.
Inside: The model tested sported Lexus-level seating and touches throughout, which was nothing like the tinny U.S. machine I rattled around in last year.
Mrs. Passenger Seat got some unusual insight — she developed what we first thought was a stomach bug during our journey. But, no, this is us, so she actually had appendicitis. Seriously. We thought this brand of adventure happened only in the movies. And after two nights in Nice’s Hopital Pasteur, she noted the C-HR still provided all the comfort someone with three new incisions could ask for.
Up to speed: Acceleration from the 1.8-liter engine and electric motor was not bad for 122 horses, 11 seconds to 100 kph (62 mph). But it felt spry around town. Flooring it onto the highway does subject occupants to a lot of loud whining,
though.
Keeping your speed: The French government delights in sending tickets to drivers via electronic speed control devices.
So the C-HR’s easy-to-operate cruise control system became my obsession. It features Toyota’s wonderful operating stalk, which increased and decreased speeds by 5-kph increments easily and intuitively.
A feature called Coyote claims to show where the cameras are operating, and this activated many times — usually where signs remind you about the speed detection, or where unfair speed restrictions begin .
Up and down: Southern France is a different world, with Alpilles running all the way to the sea, and thousand-year-old roads traversing them with little room in some places for one car, let alone two passing side by side. The C-HR was the perfect size with the perfect handling for these conditions, traversing the 15 hairpin turns up to our B&B with aplomb, and taking us even farther into the mountains of Peille (actual elevation 4,160 feet, approximate road width 4 feet, apparent guardrail height 11 inches).
Shifty: The brake mode in the e-CVT transmission got a healthy workout coming back down those 15 hairpin turns. There’s no shift capability otherwise, but I can’t complain —
never had to use the brakes unless I needed to slow suddenly or stop.
Friends and stuff: Rear-seat passengers will find plenty of leg, foot and head room, and the seat is welcoming and comfortable. With just 36.4 cubic feet behind the first row, this is a tiny car. Somehow there’s 19 behind the second, but I find that hard to fathom.
Outside: One downside to the C-HR could be the looks. Its overly cladded body panels recall 1990s2000s General Motors offerings, especially with some of the paint configurations that accent those panels.
Night shift: Another visual downside were headlights that sat a little low and interior lights that were too bright for use while driving.
Fuel economy: Through all this I used about 5.5 liters/100 km, which means I averaged 43 mpg — quite impressive.
Where it’s built: Turkey.
How it’s built: Consumer Reports predicts the U.S. model attains a 4 out of 5 for reliability.
In the end: I actually asked Toyota if I could have one fitted for the States. But don’t expect the real thing here. Sorry.
Next week: Coming home, and a chance to relax — in the Cadillac CT6 with SuperCruise.