A week with a Toyota C-HR

Posted in DriveL, News by Sniff Petrol on Thursday, April 20th, 2017

Everyone’s starting to do small, high-riding, sporty-looking cars. This is Toyota’s. 

Day one: There are two things you need to know about the C-HR. Firstly, it’s what happens when Toyota looks at the Nissan Juke and thinks, ‘Oh. Shit. That idea actually worked’. So it’s a sort of small, tall hatchback that’s meant to be distinctive and a bit sporty. Secondly, it’s built on the company’s New Global Architecture, the same box of bits that is used to make the latest Prius and will, in time, form the basis of almost everything Toyota including Aurises, Camrys, showrooms, coffee machines, notepads, and people. Probably. Toyota didn’t get rich by wasting chances for commonality across everything that it does. One other thing about the C-HR you might not realise; it’s built in Turkey. With this in mind, I was expecting the sat-nav to become increasingly dictatorial. Actually, on first impressions this car feels eager to please.

Day two: It’s hard to ignore the C-HR’s styling because there’s quite a lot of it. At first glance it looks like a drawing of a more conventional car that’s been screwed up into a ball, or a child’s toy that’s about to turn into a robocat. But the more you stare at it, the more appealing it seems to become. I like the aggressive nose. I really like the clever tricks with folds and mouldings along the sides so that the entire body appears to pinch in, giving it an interesting, wasp-esque quality. And although the back end threatens to turn into an impression of the last Civic, it’s still quite unusual and interesting. During the design process it’s clear that the interiors people got wind of what their colleagues in the exterior design department were doing and decided they were not to be out-done in the mad detailing stakes. This must be why the C-HR is the first car I can recall that appears to have wicker door trims. They’re actually quite nice, as is the leather dash top, though both things are rather spoilt by being brown when the rest of the interior is black. Come on people, this is basic stuff. Anyway, the inside is almost as busy as the outside but it mostly works as a design and the quality of the buttons and switches is tremendous. In fact, the fit and finish of the whole car is superb. No one in the mainstream does this stuff as well as Toyota. You’d kill to have the doors in your house fit this well. In case you’re wondering, the C-HR still has the massive digital clock fitted to all Toyotas since time itself was invented. In this case, it’s blue, but it’s still hilariously out of date, especially since it sits next to a glossy, hi-res screen. There’s no need for it to be there. The screen has a clock. My wrist has a clock on it. It’s baffling, in this car especially. Design and drivetrain technology from the near-future. Clock from 1982. It’s like driving around with a tiny telly showing Stranger Things on a loop. If this is Toyota’s idea of an in-joke, it’s bloody good. However, I’m starting to suspect the entire corporation is actually in trouble with a local digital clock maker and cannot stop fitting the clock for fear that some uncompromising nudey photos from its youth will be released to the press. Toyota, if that’s the case and you’re reading this, blink once and we’ll send help.

Day three: Another trundle across London. This C-HR is the hybrid version, which means another chance to play the game of trying to run on electric power for as long as possible in slow traffic, treating the triggering of the petrol engine as a landmine going off. It demands very smooth and delicate throttle work, and even then the C-HR seems annoyingly keen to start burning fossils again. Since this car is made from the same kit as the latest Prius I presume it’s the same hybrid gubbins underneath but somehow it doesn’t work as well. A bigger problem, particularly when you get out of crawling traffic, is that the design and demeanour of the C-HR tries to suggest some fire in the belly, and the powertrain immediately drops a damp flannel onto it.

Day four: The hyphen in the C-HR’s name isn’t where you expect it to be. A bit like Ban Ki-Moon. It’s also not clear what C-HR actually stands for since Toyota themselves seems confused and claim it’s ‘derived from Compact High Rider and Cross Hatch Run-about’. I think the man who styled the back bumper gave the marketing department some of whatever’s in his vape pen. Compact-HighRider?

Day five: I’ve done some light helmswork in the C-HR and here’s what I’ve found. I think the chassis is actually quite good, what with its acceptable ride and keen appetite for the business of turning into and then going around corners in a brisk way. But there’s a subtle issue: In order to make the C-HR feel lively they’ve given it a pretty quick steering rack and this means that, with just a slight turn off-centre, it fair darts towards the place you’re pointing it at. But the springs and dampers aren’t quite tuned correctly for this and have to catch up, so in certain situations the car feels out of step with itself. It’s only slight, but it’s there. An easy mistake to make, I imagine. It’s not terrible, and certainly not as bad as the droning and grunting that comes from the engine compartment if you ask the hybrid drivetrain to come out for a play. No, it says. I want to go back to the city where I can be economical. Boo hiss.

Day six: If you ever have to go through an average speed camera zone, and if you’re not one of those fast-moving thickos who still hasn’t figured out what ‘average’ means, cruise control is a very good thing. And radar cruise control, as fitted to this C-HR, is even better. But this car’s system has a weird quirk. If you set it at, say, 52 for a 50 zone it will hold that speed. But if you try to adjust your speed up or down very slightly it insists on rounding to the nearest five. Which is no good because 50 in a 50 zone gets you tangled in other motorists and 55 feels like you’ll get a letter about it. Toyota always strikes me as a very logical car company, but I can’t work out the logic of that one at all. Unless they’re so logical, they can’t bear any number that’s not rounded off.

Goodbye: One last brisk drive in the C-HR before it goes away. It’s still not quite fun enough, almost entirely because of that engine/gearbox combo. I’ve nothing against hybrid systems per se. I like the new Prius simply because it seems fit for purpose, and that purpose is plodding about urban areas being smooth and quiet and economical. Sadly, when you attempt to apply that tech to a car that sets out to do more than that, it doesn’t work. It’s still quite economical, but it’s not very nice to drive in anything like an up-and-at-‘em manner. It’s a shame because the rest of the C-HR has great promise. I like the way it looks, I like the way it’s made, and I can sense some goodness in its chassis. But the mooing, fun sponge of a powertrain takes the edge off. You can have it with a non-hybrid, turbocharged 1.2-litre petrol engine and a manual ‘box. I’ll take a punt and say that, with that engine and transmission, I think the C-HR might be better than this.

The car talked about here is a Toyota C-HR Excel Hybrid 1.8 CVT. It has a 1.8-litre petrol engine plus an electric motor making a total of 120 horsepower. It can go from 0-62 in 11 seconds and on to a top speed of 105mph. In this trim it costs £27,995.

19 Responses to “A week with a Toyota C-HR”

  1. Ryan_L says:

    Come on, slightly sporty-looking or not, it’s got a CVT and accelerates more slowly than my old Rover. What on Earth were you expecting it to drive like?

  2. Matthew says:

    Audi radar cruise control also goes up in fives. The idea is you increase it from 50 to 55, then hit the set button once your speed reaches 53 or wherever in between number you wanted.

  3. juux says:

    Cruise gets set at 60 in a 50mph average zone.

    Yet to receive a letter *puts on sunglasses*

    Also, 11s to 60 with 120hp?! Is it made of depleted uranium or something?

  4. Dalziel says:

    I used to think that as well. I’ve had a Golf with radar cruise for 3.5 years, and it wasn’t until sometime in year 2 that I realised that the Resume & Set buttons act as +1 / -1 when cruise is active!

  5. Andy says:

    VW Passat B8 adaptive cruise goes up or down in ones or fives depending on which buttons you press. Odd if Audi’s is different.

  6. juux says:

    Since we’re nerding out, the stalk on my E61 goes +/- 1 with a little nudge, pull or push it past the detente though and it jumps 5.

    Still have never figured out why cancel is up OR down and the speed up/slow down is push/pull. Bavarians, eh?

  7. Sniff Petrol says:

    The C-HR also has a stalk with a detent. If you select non-radar cruise, a nudge gives you +/- 1mph, a push past the notch is +/- 5mph. But that subtlety is lost in radar cruise mode, when it’s 5mph increments or nothing. Very odd.

  8. Jacky El Plate says:

    The E61 stalk control was originally up/down for faster/slower and push/pull for cancel/weaponise. After proving the concept by frying pedestrians and the shopping in the car in front, the feature was deleted and the pull stalk set to cancel. Then they installed it turned 90 degrees owing to a drawing office error with the virtual reality CAD system, and so it has remained ever since.

  9. Deranged Rover says:

    So it’s like the Nissan Joke and be “a sort of small, tall hatchback that’s meant to be distinctive and a bit sporty” is it?

    How exactly is the Nissan Puke sporty, even with all the Jismo stuff on it? And if 0-60 in 11 seconds is a ‘bit sporty’, does that make my old Range Rover Classic, which could do it in 10.5 seconds, officially more sporty?!

  10. gpfan says:

    Well done, Roger. A thoroughly wonderful read of what seems a jaunty and delightful little car. Another enjoyable report.

    One question, though: in what colours is the cruise control stalk offered in Canada?

  11. Mr Old. says:

    These things, like the Joke and the QashQow, appeal only to those too young to remember what Noddy drove.

  12. Simon says:

    I don’t know if it is my age, but I am currently finding the appearance of a lot of cars distressing, and this is one of the worst. I am also completely bewildered by the rear door handles. I know there have been a number of cars (starting with the Alfa 156?) that have the door handles effectively in the window frame, but these are just put horizontally ridiculously high up. Can I assume that Toyota definitely do not want people with children to buy this – I would forever be having to open doors for them.

  13. Paul Morgan says:

    I’m still trying to get over the fact that Toyota are STILL fitting a 1980s LCD clock to every new car they make!

    I remember sitting in a late-’90s Camry, thinking how odd the ’80s clock looked. That was twenty-odd years ago.

    I’m not normally one for conspiracy theories, but I’m with Sniff on this… I reckon Casio must have some serious dirt on Toyota.

  14. Paul Morgan says:

    Also, isn’t C-HR something you’re told to do when you’ve been naughty at work?

  15. Termie Nate says:

    Still a Juke.

  16. Termie Nate says:

    You bitches horny for the 720s yet? We need to mate that with an LC500 pronto. Just sayin. Away from one priority suspicious dangerous combination. This was such a bad idea.

  17. Termie Nate says:

    And thanks for the melted AI mods you lovable ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff

  18. Jennifer Warts says:

    It looks as if it wants to traverse a post-apocalyptic wasteland, in a very economical & neutered manner.

  19. Jeremy Cronin says:

    That is odd.
    Wife’s Outback has the same kind of detent for 1 or 5, but the major problem is that it there is no such thing as cruise without radar…
    Don’t ask how I found that out…
    But I’ll tell you anyway:
    First cross country drive from Cleveland to New York in the new Subie.
    Installed new tollroad transponder on windscreen the night before.
    For 500 miles through Trumpland, PA, couldn’t figure out why cruise control wouldn’t work. Tried everything.
    Read The Fucking Manual when we reached our destination. That little troubleshooting table.
    Avoided telling the rest of the family after embarrassingly discovering that I’d blocked one of the Eysesight system cameras with the transponder.
    System miraculously worked on the way home.

    But learned from the manual that there is no engaging of cruise without Eyesight.
    At least my wife appreciates that newly developed added sensitivity in my right thumb!

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