Just over a year ago, an Audi A6 3.0T Quattro tallied winning marks in a three-way execucar rodeo versus two brand-new rides—a BMW 535i and an Infiniti M37 [“War Rooms,” August 2010]. This was remarkable because the Audi was basically a five-year-old design. An A6 of the same generation also prevailed in a five-way smackdown a year earlier [“Five at Fifty,” September 2009]. But for all its enduring virtues, with more than five years on its odometer, the A6 was clearly due for a trip back to Audi’s Ingolstadt design
werke.
The challenge for this generation of Audi’s mid-size luxosedan—No. 7, dating to the Audi 100 back in 1968—was twofold. In addition to the fundamental requirement—upstaging traditional rivals from BMW and Mercedes-Benz—the latest A6 also had to make an appealingly distinctive contrast with its new A7 sister ship.
This was no easy assignment. Though the two cars are essentially identical in terms of mechanical and structural elements—as well as interior furnishings and most of the sheetmetal (save for the nose) back to the B-pillar—the hatchback A7 has a lot of look-at-me flash.
“Flash” is not a word that comes to mind with the latest A6. Formal, yes. Sophisticated, yes. Flash, not so much. If your professional persona runs to buttoned up, this is not a bad thing. But once inside, the distinctions between an A6 and an A7 get close to academic, with perhaps a small edge going to the A6 for seating capacity—five versus the A7’s four. And there are dimensional differences between the sedan and its hatchback counterpart: The A6 is a little taller; the A7 is longer, lower, and wider.
The wheelbase, identical in both the A6 and A7, has been stretched by 2.7 inches, to 114.6. Compared with the old A6, width has expanded by 0.8 inch, to 73.8, and height is up 0.4 inch, to 57.8. But even with a taller roofline, the new design is more of a wind cheater than the gen-six version, with a 0.26 drag coefficient versus 0.29. Very slick.
One of the keys to the car’s aero improvement is its side mirrors. On average, according to Audi, side mirrors contribute about seven percent to a car’s aerodynamic drag. In the latest A6, it’s only three percent, which adds to the car’s quiet operation.
Of all the dimensional changes, the most visible is longitudinal. At 193.9 inches, the new A6 is a half-inch shorter—not much, but that shrinkage, combined with the substantial wheelbase increase, yields shorter overhangs, a more athletic look, and a better weight distribution.
Because they’ve been rooted in front-drive designs, Audis have always had a pronounced forward weight bias. The A6 that prevailed in our 2010 comparo had almost 57 percent of its mass over the front axle. This A6 has pared that back to 55 percent.
Like the A7, the new A6 body shell and some suspension elements include a substantial mix of aluminum—20 percent of total mass—which should contribute to a slight reduction in curb weight: 66 pounds in this model, per Audi. However, our test car, adorned with a heavy menu of options, weighed 4165 pounds, nearly 100 less than an A7 we tested recently but five pounds more than the similarly equipped 2010 comparo car. Still, in an increasingly tough regulatory environment—every new safety standard adds up at the scales—a new model that even manages to hold the line on weight is a rarity.
Even if the mass doesn’t ebb, the new powertrain propels it with better thrift. The mill here is Audi’s 3.0-liter, 24-valve V-6 (with direct injection, supercharging, and intercooling), an engine we’ve already experienced in several other Audis.
Rated for 310 horsepower and 325 pound-feet of torque—upticks of 10 ponies and 15 pound-feet versus the boosted 3.0-liter in the previous A6—the supercharged six is paired with ZF’s eight-speed automatic, replacing the previous six-speed. And of course there’s the Quattro all-wheel-drive system, with a torque-sensing center differential that automatically apportions front/rear torque (normally 40/60, variable between 15/85 and 70/30) as well as an electronically controlled limited-slip diff at each axle.
So equipped, the supercharged six hustles two-plus tons of sophisticated sedan to 60 mph in 5.4 seconds, covers the quarter-mile in 13.9 seconds at 102 mph, and tops out at 129 mph when the governor says that’s enough.
This stacks up well with comparable six-cylinder competitors, though several players in this league offer V-8 power and sub-5.0-second sprints. If haste is a big priority, wait for the S6 or S7, which are coming within the next 12 months.
But we’d bet that only one driver in 20 would characterize this car’s power as ho-hum, especially when making a back-road pass with a big rig bearing down in the oncoming lane. And if the eight-speed auto is not quite in the same league as Audi’s seven-speed dual-clutch unit—not available in U.S. models—the slushbox’s optional shift paddles produce generally brisk gear swaps.
Our only reservation with the eight-speed is an occasional uncertain response to abrupt changes in throttle position during full-automatic operation, but, hey, there are lots of gears in there; the choices can be confusing.
If there’s any other fault to find with this power combo, it’s the absence of aural reward at wide-open throttle; the exhaust note won’t have anyone thinking of Wagner.
Fuel economy, though, looks good for a car in this class. EPA ratings are 19 mpg city and 28 highway compared with 18 and 26 for the
previous A6 3.0T Quattro. We averaged 23 over the course of our two-week test.
During that time, we discovered that the optional sport-suspension tuning manages the car’s substantial mass very well, keeping cornering attitudes level and ride quality smooth without sacrificing the taut feel that distinguishes high-end Teutonocars. Credit the new unibody, which is even stiffer than the exemplary gen-six version’s, as well as an inspired orchestration of spring rates, anti-roll bars, damping, and bushings.
Directional changes, enhanced by the electrohydraulic power steering (numb at low speed, precise above 40 mph), are prompt, but as corner-entry speeds increase, the combination of two-ton mass, all-wheel drive, and forward weight bias inevitably dulls transient response and amplifies understeer.
Nevertheless, grip—delivered here by optional Pirelli P Zero tires (255/40R-19)—is admirable (0.89 g), and the predictability index is about 100 percent. No secrets, no surprises. Anyone who stuffs an A6 into the hedgerows has simply ignored the car’s ample dynamic feedback and is probably a Darwin Award candidate.
A surprising minus in last year’s comparo-winning A6 was its interior, which we characterized as a “somewhat dreary, dour domain”—words you rarely hear about contemporary Audis. You won’t hear them in connection with this one. Our first drive of the A7 reported an interior that “oozes opulence and simplicity,” an observation that applies to the A6 as well. The ash-wood trim, with its raised graining, is a pleasant surprise; soft-touch surfaces enhance the sense of luxury; the nougat-brown leather seats—adjustable for body types ranging from Quasimodo to Kobe Bryant—hit a just-right balance between sporty and posh; and the wheelbase stretch means there’s more kneeroom for rear-seat passengers.
One caveat regarding the rear seat: That center-rear position would demand unusual fortitude for journeys of more than a few miles. The seatback doubles as a fold-down armrest, and the position requires the center passenger to straddle a driveline tunnel.
While comfort, quality, and appearance all rate improved scores, perhaps the most significant interior update is in the rapidly evolving area of infotainment. Introduced with the A7, the new Audi Connect system includes a deal with Google, encompassing Google Earth mapping, Google Search, T-Mobile in-car Wi-Fi, and other cool functions. Using Google and voice command—or by “writing” a Google keyword on the center console’s touchpad—you can give the car a general destination, such as the Henry Ford Museum, and the nav system will guide you there.
Audi Connect is baked into a large option group called the Prestige package. Which brings us to the money.
A base A6 carries a suggested retail price of $50,775 ($9350 less than the A7). If cost and fuel economy are more important to you than performance and all-weather mobility, Audi will soon offer a front-drive version with a 2.0-liter turbo four and CVT gearbox for as little as $42,575.
But our test car was loaded to the gunwales. The Prestige package (S-line exterior trim, nav system, Audi Connect, front and rear parking sensors, four-zone auto climate control, front-seat ventilation, adaptive xenon headlights, power steering-column tilt and telescope, ambient interior light, multicolor driver-info system) added $6880 to the bottom line. The Bang & Olufsen super-duper premium audio added $5900. Sport package (19-inch wheels and summer tires, sport suspension tuning, three-spoke steering wheel, paddle shifters): $1500. LED headlights: $1400. Blind-spot-warning system: $500. Aviator Blue metallic paint (actually, it’s kind of gray): $475.
Grand total: $67,430.
At $50,775, the A6 looks pretty alluring—quiet, comfortable, sophisticated, and supremely competent. At $67,430, it still looks alluring. But it may provoke a domestic debt-ceiling debate.
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The new A6’s handsome exterior is nearly indistinguishable from that of its siblings, the A4 and A8.
by caranddriver.com |
Last May, we judged an Audi TT RS similar to this one to be a “devastatingly effective single-purpose tool.” We also judged it second-best in a three-way free-for-all versus an Infiniti IPL G37 and a (winning) BMW 1-series M coupe.
Last May, we judged an Audi TT RS similar to this one to be a “devastatingly effective single-purpose tool.” We also judged it second-best in a three-way free-for-all versus an Infiniti IPL G37 and a (winning) BMW 1-series M coupe.
