The Suzuki Vitara is empirical evidence that the best innovations are not always driven by necessity. I mean, what market can there be for a three door, 4 wheel-drive hatchback in a country where nearly eighty percent of the population lives in an urban area? Of course, Japan has hilly bits and heavy winters in the North, but conversely, less mud than the South Pole. It makes as much sense as Switzerland building ocean liners.
Great Britain has Land Rovers, America has Jeeps and Belgium has bicycles. A nation should specialize in vehicles appropriate to its topography, otherwise there is a massive danger of the end product being crap.
The Japanese, however, have the confidence to step out of the comfort zone and theorize what an off-roader should be like. Sterile testing treadmills in place of dirt tracks and suspension testing with hydraulic rigs. I imagine the Suzuki factory being very similar to Cape Canaveral.
This all seems very soulless and unforgiving, but the truth is, Dr. Frankenstein has bought this monster to life in his lab, and it has a very big heart.
The 1.6 liter standard engine of the JLX produces an serviceable 48bhp, but what grabs you by the groin is the sheer torque produced. I am adamant this little car could tow Norway.
It is apt to talk about handling in regards to this car, as you do not drive it in the conventional sense. You reign it in, correct it as a customs officer would do his sniffer dog. You are a handler, not a driver. However, your charge is never unruly, and unfailingly obedient, to the extent that a symbiotic relationship is formed between man and car. Only when you realize this, do you fall in love with the Suzuki. And you fall hard.
With bullbars, obscenely wide alloy wheels (more cushion fo' the pushin, as Snoop Dogg would say), and enlarged wheel arches, the vehicle looks as if it is capable of domestic violence. But the ridges on the bonnet bethink a favored grandfather's laughter-lines, while the polymerized steering wheel offers the comfort of a childhood toy.
With such thoughts making themselves felt whilst approaching a filthy 90-degree bend, at speed, dangerously alienates from the sheer stupidity and hazard posed by such driving. You become slumbered in the aura of the car, of which you put so much confidence, that there is no adrenaline to correct a botched bridge landing or counter the back wheels on a slide. But there is no danger, you can feel yourself and the Vitara instinctively and delicately veering out of harm's lurid grasp.
I feel disgusted at myself to even entertain thoughts of any other automobile, because I already have everything I need with this car. One day we will go our separate ways, but I will still call, and there will always be a place for the Vitara in what will then be my empty heart.
