The road snakes this way and that, hoping to outrun you on the next bend. It changes direction, comes up and down, tightens radius to the right and sharply snaps to the left in a rising hairpin. Trees fillet the sunlight, playing tricks as to if the road surface is damp or merely shaded. There’s a smattering of fallen leaves leading up to a blind crest; it might be followed by a long straight, a break in the trees, or a gravel filled sweeper.
How better to get acquainted with such a car?
When first you meet, your mind breaks off of the heritage. It forgets the spec sheet, the videos you’ve watched, or the stories you’ve heard. For all the presence sitting before you, you’re stuck on the engine placement. At first glance your mind rejects it. The motor can’t be that far forward. However, a move to the side of the engine bay confirms it. Due to the transmission placement the longitudinally mounted, turbocharged inline-five is so far from the bulkhead the Transcontinental Railroad might come up short. You wonder how good it could possibly be.
Behind the wheel, a merciful critic would call the steering vague. Little is felt while passing back and forth over center through the switchbacks. Combined with brakes that are a little soft, one comes into the first few corners with immense trepidation. On the approach to a sharper bend the initial bite is nowhere to be found, prompting an inspired stab to make sure they’re actually there.
The bottom of the brake pedal’s travel tosses you against the seat belt. On the way down to second gear, a clumsy double-dip of throttle tickles your ears with noises that once found home in Monaco or on Pikes Peak. The vague steering is quick, but while the front responds faithfully it’s still pushing a touch wide. Remembering the proud owner is sitting shotgun, you consider commenting on the weight balance.
You eye the edge of the road, lacking guardrail or any pretense of salvation from your recent mistakes. You bring your eyes back to the corner, sighting your exit and wondering how you’re going to affect a correction when the turbo finally acknowledges your throttle application from last week.
Ah, hello boost. You old fiend.
At once the rear wakes up and you consider the existence of God. You say a moment of thanks for your wherewithal to keep the wheel steady as the car surges where it’s pointed, the hand of torque still at your back come time to shift. You slide the hefty lever through its long travel to third. When back off the clutch, the only indication you’ve shifted is the continued thrust, seemingly strapped to your chair and propelling you forward.
The next corner is a bit faster. Pulse check on the middle pedal to make sure it’s still there then aim the steering as desired. Pretend the throttle is a volume slider and push it till it stops.
Group B’s Greatest Hits: Vol. 1
It was after a fourth gear blast down a closed road somewhere in Mexico that it hit me, this is genesis. Car nuts, myself included, toss around Group B like it was the seminal work of some singular artist. But we forget that this Audi, this homologation special, was the proof of concept that spawned countless follow-ups.
Despite my personal preference toward older cars, I’d let unverified opinions convince me this one wouldn’t be fun to drive. There’s the usual jab at Audi’s steering feel, warranted here, but there was also the idea that it would feel cumbersome. That due to how early the tech was, the all-wheel-drive system would feel clunky, the transmission balky, and the motor anemic.
In the time leading up to this drive, I’d originally planned to write this as, “Yeah it’s old and creaky but at least it has rally provenance.” But instead I’ve come away marveling at how raw the thing is. It’s easy to psych yourself out with cars. You look at stuff on paper and think, ‘That couldn’t possibly work’, forgetting to keep an open mind. It’s the same mistake Audi’s competitors made when the Quattro first hit the stages in 1980.
But behind the wheel you’re reminded that cars of this vintage are mechanical things. Not every old car is good, and not every good car is old, but it’s beautiful the way those characteristics come together in the oily bits. As you become more acquainted with the Quattro you find that it works because of, rather than despite its simplicity. There’s a tactility to this chassis that makes it easier to enjoy its abilities. The way it explodes out of corners when you get it right is immensely satisfying.
It’s the first analogue experience I’ve had with an all-wheel-drive car, and my acclaim is only tempered by the realization I’ll have difficulty finding a contemporary for comparison. That may be more indicative of just how far ahead this car was when it debuted. There were other, faster cars that came after. But they were so far removed from their street counterparts as to be irrelevant. Concerning Group B homologation specials, the Audi is perhaps the most honest. An element that adds to those spirited runs on the wily roads the Quattro attacks best.
Special Thanks to the smiling owner and friend who entertained the drive for this piece.