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Mini Coupe Cooper SD (2012) long-term test review
By
the CAR road test team
Long Term Tests
16 May 2012 12:50
We switch our Mini Coupe off its run-flats on to ‘normal’ tyres. Does it improve the ride? - 16 May 2012
Everyone that has been a passenger in the Mini has quickly commented on how hard and unyielding the ride is. Yes, I know the Coupe is pitched as the sportiest model in the Mini range after the hotshoe GP, but an unyieldingly harsh ride quality doesn’t automatically deliver sporting dynamics, something many manufacturers can’t get their head around.
So here’s the good news. On ‘standard’ Continental Contisport 3 205/45 R17 tyres – ie non-runflats – the Coupe’s ride quality has significantly improved. The brittle jaggedness that had the Mini crashing and thumping over every intrusion on runflats has been rounded off. There’s a welcome degree of compliance and give in the way the suspension now absorbs ruts and ripples. Yes, the ride can still only be described as very firm but it’s now less aggressive and harsh.
The handling hasn’t been adversely affected by this step up in compliance and comfort either. Body control remains exceptional, and the Mini can still be whipped through corners at silly speeds with the slightest flick of the wrist. The Coupe never feeling anything but taut, alert and agile. Superb brakes, too. So if you have the choice, opt for the standard tyres and get a tin of puncture foam. Your spine and filings will thank you.
With the UK being such an important market for the Mini brand, I’m surprised that a hefty chunk of the Coupe’s development didn’t take place over here. If Mini’s engineers could have created a car better equipped at dealing with our crappy craggy roads as well as delivering exceptional handling, I’m convinced we’d see more Coupes on the road.
By Ben Whitworth
The Mini survives a collision - 1 May 2012
Some idiot drove into me last week. The optically-challenged octogenarian obviously didn't see me – the Coupe being tricky to spot being bright red with twinkling daylight running lights and all – because he entered the mini roundabout and tried to drive straight through me. The offside rear took the full brunt of the collision, but despite it sounding like a grenade had detonated in the Coupe’s boot and resulting in the nose of the retiree’s Civic looking mashed and mangled, damage to the Mini was visually superficial. The rear left wheel was deeply scuffed and the black plastic wheelarch lining was lightly scratched. And that was it.
After we swapped details, which took a while as the Honda driver had difficulty juggling his pipe and my pen, I gingerly attempted to complete the rest of my trip home – less than a few hundred yards – at walking pace, fully expecting the car to crab sideways and the cabin to fill with wince-inducing graunching and grinding noises.
There was no such anticipated ruckus and no wayward dynamics. The Mini rode and handled exactly the way it had done before the collision, but I was absolutely livid. The Mini had just been fitted with winter tyres – hence the switch to standard alloys – and was absolutely immaculate after a meticulous valet, but the Honda-Mini interface now meant I wouldn’t be able to drive the Coupe until the damage was repaired and the tracking was realigned.
The next morning I inspected the Mini thoroughly. Apart from the kerbed alloy and marked wheelarch lining, there was nothing I could see or detect that looked out of place. A few slow runs up and down the road further convinced me I would be able to trundle it up to Vines of Guildford – the Mini bodyshop closest to my office in Godalming – without further damage to the car, myself and the West Sussex and Surrey countryside.
Vines were very good in all respects. I dropped the car off later that week for them to assess and repair. I was offered a courtesy car – something the other driver’s insurance was very keen for me to have – but as I was only a few miles down the road and the job would take a day at most, I took Vines up on their offer to drop and collect me from their premises using their customer shuttle service – a Volkswagen Caravelle driven by an plummy avuncular chap who used to work in advertising. The alloy was replaced, as was the black wheelarch lining and despite the impact, the checked suspension and tracking were found to be fine. All a bit of non-event after a rather dramatic end to a day’s commute.
By Ben Whitworth
Pros and cons test on the Mini - 27 March 2012
Flip through to the comments section of the notebook stashed in the Mini’s cubby and there’s an interesting mix of the good and the not so good.
Let’s tackle what I believe is the Mini’s biggest stumbling block – its looks. I don’t think its cap-backwards proportions work. Not in the slightest. Every time I see that counter-intuitive upward swing of the roofline and the flat and frumpy boot I can’t help thinking that Mini’s design team missed a huge trick. How much cooler would this car look if it had a much lower roofline that flowed tightly over the driver’s head before plummeting down behind the driver’s head to meet the leading edge of the tailgate with kicked-up integrated lip? Imagine the back end of a 1973 911 2.7 RS, and you’ll know what I mean.
Next key issue is the ride quality. Or lack of it. The combination of run-flat rubber and the ultra-stiff set-up of the Mini’s suspension results in a punishingly hard and unforgiving ride that has me wincing and cursing on anything but the smoothest of roads. Rather than being a dynamic aid, the rock-hard ride actually acts as a very effective killjoy, forcing me to back off, rather than push on.
The Mini’s 1995cc twin-scroll turbo engine is gruff, but some of this lack of deportment can be forgiven when it readily delivers such useable dollops of overtaking go. Keep the vocal engine spinning between 1750 and 2700rpm and a chunky 225lb ft of torque is available to rocket-sled the Mini down the road and past slower traffic. And the crisp gearshift quality is a delight with a fine, machined feel to each gear change. Meaty and gutsy brakes add plenty of foot-flat confidence. Pity the hapless front wheels fight and fidget when trying to handle all that muscle.
There are a number of other smaller likes (huge boot, powerful bi-Xenons, good audio system) and as many dislikes (creaky centre console, cheap plastics, poor ergonomics) that I’ll flesh out in my next report, but it’s fair to say that overall, there’s a lot less on the plus side to Coupe ownership than expected. I can think of a lot of other £25k two-door cars I’d rather have in my garage than this one.
By Ben Whitworth
Mini Coupe Cooper Hello - 17 February 2012
If you read my farewell to the Honda CR-Z you will know that despite its dinky size, it majored on slinky and sleek style, foot-flat feel-good factor and bleeding-edge technology. It was missed the moment the collection man from Honda drove it down my road and out of sight. So any replacement keen to receive the same level of adoration has its work cut out.
Which might explain why there was a distinct pause on the line when road test editor Ben Pulman suggested a Mini Coupe. I love the way BMW has revived the Mini brand, the way it has keenly balanced accessibility and aspiratio,n and the manner in which it has expanded the range. But the Coupe? When I saw the first pictures of the Coupe concept ahead of its debut at the 2009 Frankfurt show I grimaced. Awkward, ungainly and frumpy. It was bound to look better in the metal, wasn’t it? No. It was what Mini people politely call challenging. And the rest of called ugly.
The production version was little different. There was none of the cute pocketability of the hatch, but no replacement aggression or athleticism, either. What was going on with that roofline and that broad flat rump? I had dinner with Gert Hildebrand, head of Mini design and the man responsible for the Coupe, on the eve of the 2009 Frankfurt show. He talked about the importance of not creating a set of models that followed the matryoshka doll school of design – touché Audi – and the need to capitalise on the Mini brand’s outright sporting intentions. Sure, but with a car that looks like Quasimodo wearing a back-to-front peak cap?
Opting for the Cooper SD version was a bit of a no-brainer. While the diesel Coupe loses out on the power front to its petrol-powered cousin (143bhp versus 184bhp) it clouts it for torque (a chunky 225lb ft at 1700rpm against 177lb ft at 1600rpm). And in everyday driving, high levels of low-rev torque is king. A 7.9 second dash to 62mph and a 134mph top speed means the Coupe will feel spectacularly quick after the Honda. And a claimed combined economy of 65.7mpg (the petrol Cooper S returns 44.1) sealed the deal for the diesel.
That was the limit of our input when it came to speccing the Coupe – the rest was left to Mini, who handed over one of the cars directly from the car’s launch. I say that here rather than after describing the Mini, for reasons that will soon become apparent. Our Coupe Cooper SD weighs in at an eyebrow-raising £20,510. That’s a lot more than some other small sporting three-door hatches such as Alfa’s Mito Quadrifoglio (£18,755), the Citroen DS3 DSport Plus (£17,895) Renaultsport’s Clio 200 Cup (£17,120) and the Vauxhall Corsa VXR (£18,900).
To that Mini has added £4,490 worth of the following options…
Chili Pack: £1,865
Media Pack: £1,015
Leather Lounge (Carbon Black): £700
Heated front seats: £215
Sun protection glass: £160
Chrome Line interior: £120
Colour Line, Rooster Red: £110
Auto-dimming rear view mirror: £105
Alloy Wheels in Black: £80
Run-flat tyres: £75
Warning triangle and first aid kit: £45
17" Conical Spoke alloy wheels: No-cost option
Black headlight trims: No-cost option
Interior trim, Piano Black: No-cost option
Interior World, Carbon Black: No-cost option
Roof and mirror caps in black: No-cost option
Sport front seats: No-cost option
Black exterior sports stripes: No-cost option
I'll explain what most of that means next time, but together it brings up YK61LLZ’s on-the-road price to a not insignificant £25,000. Or £350 more than VW’s hot 168bhp Golf GTD. So is this money well spent on a red and black striped three-door diesel hatch? I have six months to find out.
By Ben Whitworth
