Instrumented Test
The latest Beetle convertible is longer, lower, wider, and it raises a question: Is it finally okay for guys? Has the cuteness been sufficiently tempered to banish the chick-car label? We’re definitely thinking maybe.
Today’s Beetle has come a long way since the air-cooled Bugs of the 1950s, ’60s, and early ’70s, and if it lacks the innocent simplicity of the original, it has a compelling list of practical appeals—a heater that actually generates heat (a benefit of the liquid-cooled engine); predictable front-drive handling (oversteer was all too attainable in the rear-engined Beetles); more power (the ’68 Beetle’s 1.5-liter flat four was rated at 53 horsepower); a shifter that feels like it’s connected to the gearbox by something more substantial than clothesline; and better fuel economy.
So there are many distinctions that can be drawn between the 2014 Beetle convertible and its ancient ancestor, but the most significant in terms of this report is its power source. The sparkless-ignition unit in this convertible is VW’s ubiquitous 2.0-liter turbo-diesel with 140 horsepower and 236 lb-ft of torque on tap. Mated with a six-speed manual transmission and towing a 3302-pound convertible, the little diesel produces a zero-to-60 time of 8.9 seconds and a quarter-mile run of just under 17.
This is not exactly face-distorting acceleration. For contrast, the gas-fired 2.0-liter turbo convertible we tested last year sprinted to 60 in 6.7 seconds. So forget about quick. The virtue of this powertrain is fuel economy—an EPA-estimated 28 mpg city/41 highway. We saw an average of 34 mpg in our travels. If that seems like underachievement, consider that 34 mpg is 2 ticks higher than the highway rating for the same car with VW’s new 1.8-liter gas turbo and 11 mpg thriftier than our recorded fuel economy for the 2.0-liter turbo model.
While the 2014 Beetle cabrio is thoroughly modern, it does have this in common with that 1968 ancestor—it is not a sports car. Transient responses are deliberate, as is the electric power steering at 3.0 turns lock-to-lock. On the other hand, the selectively stiffened unitized body is devoid of cowl shake, and the higher rigidity and longer wheelbase yield ride quality that’s firm yet supple and handling that’s devoid of any real vices. The relaxed-fit seats are long-haul comfortable, interior fit and finish display typical German craftsmanship, and the multilayer top does an excellent job of sealing out noise.
This top is also tops for ease of operation: There are no latches to manipulate and a single button tap opens the softtop in 9.5 seconds (or closes in 11.0) at speeds up to 31 mph. When stowed, it doesn’t consume any trunk space, either. As in 1968, the tonneau cover isn’t particularly user-friendly, but other retro touches—the upright dash with body-color accents and slightly more vertical windshield (than the previous-gen Bug’s)—maintain an agreeable connection with yesteryear.
Would it be un-PC to say that a diesel is pretty masculine, particularly an oil-burner mated with a manual transmission? Perhaps it’s the subdued but distinctive diesel sound, audible inside at startup with the top raised, audible all the time with the top down. It’s a variety of internal-combustion music more likely to appeal to gearheads and eco-geeks. But don’t just take our word for it: Volkswagen says 39 percent of all Beetle convertible buyers in 2013 were men (matching the previous high set in 2012), and 68 percent of Beetle coupe TDI buyers that year were male.
While it’s well equipped, at $29,715, the Beetle convertible rates as a pretty expensive source of sun-in-face and wind-in-hair. For about the same money, you could strap on a new Miata with the retractable hardtop, although that would mean giving up the Beetle’s rear seat, which can accommodate two adults.
The Beetle TDI convertible may not be a thrill ride. But as an unhurried sunshine cruiser, its cool factor is high and its operating costs low.
