DRIVEN: 2005 Hyundai Tuscon

By Michael Banovsky
Photos by Michael Banovsky

I must admit that the guys at the office were laughing at me. Not because the new Hyundai Tuscon a cute-ute, not because the other two testers usually get things with big engines, and not because it looked like a Tonka toy.

They were laughing at me because of its colour.

Hyundai calls it “Aqua Silver”, and it reminds me of an old linoleum floor my grandparents had in their kitchen. I think it reminded my colleagues of their grandparents’ kitchens, too.

I could care less, really. I’m not an SUV person, and no amount of car-like handling will persuade me otherwise. The newest form of SUV, the mini-SUV, is kinda like a restaurant saying its pies are homemade. I know it’s reheated frozen dough, and so do you – so why are you giving me the impression your mother slaved over a wood stove all morning?

It’s the same with these mini-SUVs. I know it won’t handle, be as efficient, or perform like a car – and so do you – so why are you saying any different?



But alas, as soon as I saw the console-mounted purse hook I knew the final judgement wasn’t mine.

See, my girlfriend is the target market for the Hyundai Tuscon. She’s 20-something, has a relatively good job, and is fresh out of university. She owns a few knock-off Louis Vuitton purses, calls her friends “divas”, and wears entirely impractical footwear.

Since I started at Inside Track, she has been bombarded by words like “apex”, “braking point”, and “drafting”. To her credit, I think she’s beginning to understand some parts of auto racing. Hell, I even explained downforce and lift to her by having her curl her outstretched hand out of the passenger window of the Tuscon.



But I know as hard as I try – and as hard as she tries to listen – there will be some things she won’t get. Shortly after I went on a tirade about the Tuscon’s “he-told-me-they’re-leather” seats and really sloppy automatic transmission with useless tap-shift controls, she discovered the purse hook.

I think the word is “sold”.



She was impressed by the off-line performance of the 2.7L 6 cylinder engine (as seen in the Tiburon), and the chunky styling, but was more scared than usual at my off-ramp antics – suitably controlled by my tester’s Electronic Stability Program (ESP).

Okay, okay. It’s not a performance car. BMW and Infiniti would never have come up with the purse holder or the reclining rear seats... or the in-door cupholders big enough to swallow my morning banana and strawberry soy smoothie. The glass lifts independently of the tailgate, too – another detail my girlfriend loved.



For the as-tested price of $28,725, the Tuscon delivered above-average levels of fit, finish, and performance. But unfortunately, like my recently-tested Tiburon, the weak point was its drivetrain. Oh right… I suppose the target audience won’t care about that, will they?

They’ll care about the little interior details and the fact that visibility and parking are great (two areas women on the go appreciate above all else.)



But back to the knockoff purses I mentioned. What is the point in having something that looks the part when it won’t be able to do any of the things that made the original brand famous in the first place?

Why have a mini-SUV that’s hapless off-road and compromised on-road?

Because – like my girlfriend’s “Louie” – it’s the look that counts. The Tuscon, then, can be likened to paying for a car and getting an Aqua Silver mini-truck.

Yeah, she loved the colour, too.