|
From Swedespeed.com Reviews and Road Tests The morning of Day 3 slowly unfolds with a mist of rain and clouds that hint at even more moisture. In such a dry environment, rain is not a factor that was planned for. Any changes it makes to our route from San Ignacio to beautiful and beachside San Francisquito remain to be seen.
The loosely packed surface of these trails makes a wonderful environment to feel the XC70 on the limits. We disable the DSTC, sliding the car around corners and not forcing the computer to fight against the lateral forces. Those with a stomach for it are enjoying running off-road at high speeds and learning a new appreciation for those who compete in the venerable Baja 1000 or World Rally Championship. They say the Ford WRC team uses the similarily equipped S60 AWD as a scout car at racing events. Though not exactly a Focus WRC racecar, the XC70 makes us see why. The large P2-based XC70 is surprisingly agile when pushed hard under these conditions. “Mom’s car Rocks!", my co-driver Ben Stewart exclaims. I’m enjoying it as well, though since Ben’s worked for Four Wheeler Magazine and has taken off-road racing courses during his tenure at Popular Mechanics, I feel my obviously biased opinion as a writer for a Volvo-only title is just a bit more legitimized. Driving a car on a single-track path like this is much like mountain biking backwood trails. I find myself using the same method I do when flying through the forrest on my Cannondale bicycle. Scan the roads from further out, basing your major steering efforts on memory as your real-time view is constantly farther ahead. I’m hyper-aware of potentially damaging rocks due to our oil pan damaging incident the day before, but we’re easily able to keep pace with the rapidly moving cars at the front. With mountain biking, a fast coasting downhill can be just as tiring as a long slow climb. Rather than tired from pedaling, the amount of concentration required when traversing these obstruction-laden paths can wear you out just as, if not more, quickly. Navigating a car on these roads and at these speeds feels not-so-surprisingly just as tiring. Considering someone like Farnsworth manages this for the entire Baja 1000, and on a motorcycle no less, one has to give the man the respect he’s due. About twenty miles into the desert we cross from the Baja Sur to its neighboring Mexican state of Baja California. There’s no fence and few signs to mark the border, though a fork in the road appears with several more young Mexican soldiers with their automatic weapons in hand. They’re manning a checkpoint at which Bryon works some more of his magic. The federales wave us on.
Our sandy roads have now turned to stone as we encounter some of the most intense climbing we’ve seen thus far. The rocky path snakes its way up the side of a mountain. We round a bend on our narrow road that is simply cut into the side of the hill. Put too much of the car off the road to the wrong side and the result would be a totaled XC70 and probably two totaled journalists. The rain patters against the windshield faster now as the the Sea of Cortez comes into view. Below us is the small fishing village of San Francisquito and its nearby air strips where Volvo has planned to meet the two planes that will return us to California. Coming down closer to the town, we need to cross a long flat and normally very dusty straight near the air strip. The morning’s rain has turned this flat strip into a soupy, muddy mess. We can see as the first few cars enter the area and their wheels begin to spin. Blobs of mud flick up into the air as the XC70s slide sideways, the steering wheels sometimes going to full lock. The wagons appear to be more following the texture of the soft mud than the steering inputs of the drivers. It’s controllable, but hardly graceful. We pause at the entrance of what the rain has turned into a bog and watch the other cars flirt with paralyzation as they are forced to come almost to a stop as they come too close to the car in front of them. With the several cars ahead of us now halfway across the bog, I gun the motor and our wagon lunges into the soup. We move straight ahead for all of 10 yards before the mud begins to pull at us as well. Speed is easily maintained, though the car is sometimes sliding sideways as the tail kicks from one side to the other. When we get about two thirds of the way across, we are also forced to slow down. We’ve closed the gap between those cars in front of us, getting caught up in the sheer amount of fun we were having – the back end of the car fishtailing and the mud shooting up into the air like a rooster tail.
The XC70’s Haldex all-wheel drive system works just as it should, keeping the car always under control and in motion - even in its animated state. Had we reactivated the DSTC, the XC70’s progression may have been more linear, though without it activated we believe we had more fun. On the far side of the rain-soaked bog, we crawl out onto firmer ground. The sandy terrain never quite loses its soupy quality though, and our tires press ruts into the soft wet turf the remaining way into town and right up to where we park the cars. I’m sure in perfect weather San Francisquito is absolutely stunning. The unpredictable on-and-off precipitation seems more a characteristic of the American city for which this village is named. Still, when the sun peeks out from behind the clouds, it glints off of the blue water in a dancing sort of way that seems to beckon you to stay a while and enjoy the slow pace of life. We all huddle underneath a covered seating area or in the dining room of the town’s one small restaurant. The rain comes down harder now, and we feast on more fish and shrimp soft-shell tacos as Bryon tries to reach the pilots – inbound from Southern California. The locals tell us the dirt airfield is too wet to land. The town has a paved strip, but we hear it is too wet as well and the planes would probably get stuck. Even though the rain appears to be clearing up, the executive decision is to change the plan. We’ll backtrack to Route 1 where we’ll head north for a paved airfield operated by the Mexican military at Guerrero Negro. We have two hours to get there, so Bryon points out that we’ll be making up some time – going at an even harder pace than this morning. Some in our group smile while others frown at the thought of this.
Exiting San Francisquito, we have two choices. I’d been hoping for a photo-op going back across the “bog”, as I’d been driving the first time through. Instead we go another direction that offers just as much to shoot. Going down a soupy road not quite as deep as the “bog”, we work our way out to a staging area on the “paved” runway. The XC70s need to go, one at a time, through a small mud-filled hollow. Keep on the gas and point toward the right and you’ll be fine, but stop and they’ll need the support truck to pull you out. Two local Mexicans hang out, watching from above to see if any of the cars get stuck. None of them do.
As we wait our turn to go through, I get out of the car to snap some photos and immediately feel the softness of the pavement. One almost sinks into the soft blacktop. It’s not surprising they wouldn’t let the planes land on this, paved or not.
We backtrack through the narrow rocky mountain roads to the military checkpoint on the border to Baja Sur. From there, Bryon opts for a raised and graded dirt road that we’d been running alongside earlier in the morning in those lower sandy paths. From the road, we can see many of those same paths now fairly flooded. The road isn’t much better, however. The surface can be best explained as a washboard with gravel overtop. Though graded, it too has low points and the standing water has gotten fairly prominent. Even worse, there are washouts that have formed since the road has been graded, creating deep crevices to the side that seem like they’d swallow a wheel and chew a control arm should you place a bad foot. Near these, thoughtful Mexicans have placed old tires as a warning. It’s not 100-percent accurate, but we acclimate quickly to the system. I only know of one car that hit one of the ruts so hard that they probably blew a shock. The car kept going, but the hit was serious enough to probably leave the car in need of repair.
Trying to make up that time, Bryon has us holding a pace of about 60 to 70 mph on this long, flat-yet-bumpy road. With the car in Sport mode, Volvo’s 4C system makes a valiant effort to soak up the vibration, though road noise is considerable. Rocks are constantly and loudly bouncing off of the car’s undercarriage. In many places, large pools of standing muddy water sit squarely across the road’s expanse. With nothing to do but ford through them, we hit most at high speeds - scrubbing off about 10mph by the time we get through to the other side. We watch as the car directly in front of us throws large wings of brown water high into the air.
Looking out to the side, I see the value in Volvo’s new rain-resistant windows. Our car has been treated with a sort of semi-permanent finish that acts much like a coat of Rain-X. The side windows and rearview mirrors bead, with dirty brown liquid trailing off the panes in straight streaming lines. I’m later told by one of the Volvo technicians that while not permanent, the finish can be reapplied by the dealership every couple of years when it finally wears off. Volvo will soon offer this as optional on their cars, including the windshields.
Using the graded road, we make it back to Route 1 in a fraction of the time. Turning north onto the paved road, we throttle the cars up to much higher speeds. Our XC70 feels as if it’s thrown a wheel weight or four, though we can see upon later inspection that the caked mud on the inner rims is more than enough to temporarily take them well out of balance. Still, the vibration in the wheel seems to disappear over 80-mph. At those speeds on Route 1, we close the 30 or so remaining miles to Guerrero Negro in no time at all, where our two planes await. We grab our bags hastily out of the back of the car and get in line in front of a folding table where several soldiers open the bags, look in and close them just as quickly. Then we simply walk over to the planes and step aboard.
Lifting off, we bid "adios" to the Volvo staff and the XC70, which has earned plenty of new-found respect. We make our way back to San Ysidro, CA though not before stopping in Ensenada to clear Mexican customs. Finally on the ground in the States, we learn that this airport doesn’t have a dedicated customs official. All passengers are forced to wait on the plane for the gentleman to arrive – it’s the law. When he finally arrives, the official asks us what we acquired while in Mexico and examines our passports. He does a quick walkthrough of the plane and then leaves. “Perhaps I should get back into smuggling,” one of our compatriots jests… with a slight air of ambiguous seriousness. On my way to the San Diego airport the following morning for my return to the East Coast, I glimpse a woman commuting into the city in her XC70. She cruises along at 70-mph and chats away on her cell phone. Having just returned from the Malarrimo Enduro, I’m now acutely aware of the secret identity her car has that perhaps she’ll never be aware of. That’s a shame, because the XC70 proves itself as a competent off-roader. One could envision the likes of Colin McRae blasting around in one after he has some children and needs something a little bigger. I doubt he’d be disappointed. ARTICLE SERIES LINKS 1. Introduction 2. Part I: Loreto to Mulege' 3. Part II: Mulege' to San Ignacio 4. Part III: San Ignacio to San Francisquito 5. Trip Wrapup
All information Copyright © 1999-2003 Swedespeed. All rights reserved. No photos, news stories, graphics, or Swedespeed logos may be used or reproduced without written permission. Volvo is a registered trademark of Volvo Car Corporation and Ford Motor Company. Swedespeed is an independent media publication and is not affiliated with or endorsed by Volvo Car Corporation |
