Samantha Stevens
wheels magazine
wheels magazine
Is the new Clio still a snarling bulldog punching above its weight? Or is it weighed down by size, price and expectations? We find out.
You always remember your first.
Mine was a RenaultSport Clio 182 Cup. Its plain silver wrapping hid a paradoxical mix of hardcore machinery and timid driver; its charcoal wheels hinting at hidden performance; its screaming 7000rpm bark matching its grippy bite.
And for a first-time hillclimber, it was the perfect partner, a loyal four-wheeled friend. The Clio, with its yappy, torquey 2.0-litre, flat handling with a hint of tail-wag, and its upright, alert seating position and close pedals was near infallible, and hilarious fun.
Four years on, with memories of the trusty 182 strengthened by time and forgotten detail, the new Clio RenaultSport 197 had a high hill to climb. In my eyes, especially.
The local launch had been delayed by almost a year, due to a long-running argument between Renault Oz and its French parents over the need for just one top-shelf car from a large hatch range. There will be no slow 1.6-litre Clio runabout; just the top shelf 145kW 2.0-litre at a lofty $36,490.
Anticipation was further heightened by the drive program’s theme – a day in the life of a club racer, incorporating a drive from Canberra to Wakefield Park circuit for timed hot laps.
The only blot on the page was a years' worth of overseas reports on the 197, stating that its stretched frame, 205kg bloat (now 1240kg), and lack of the optional firm Cup chassis had turned the hardcore Clio soft.
And they’re right – the 197 is not as barking mad as that 182 Cup from my fond blurry memories. But it hits that often elusive sweet spot between road and track car with a mallet. In fact, both smaller and larger sports cars could take a leaf from the Clio’s spring set-up.
Even without the benefit of a direct comparison, you do not miss the Cup suspension (or, for that matter, an independent rear). On the road, bumps are translated through a sophisticated and supple set of joints; with aggressive pedal work on the track, the Clio takes directions with a flat, no-nonsense attitude and default bum-steer.
Torque steer tug is almost non-existent, due in part to the 197's new aluminium suspension set-up, which saves 7.5kg while isolating the steering axis from the connecting springs and dampers.
Turn-in is deft and without push or familiar front-wheel interference, though the steering wheel could use more on-centre feel. And that truck-like upright driving position is relaxed, the wheel more vertical and ergonomic – though the lack of telescopic adjustment still leaves the long-legged a little distanced from the action.
The old Clio developed 124kW @ 6250rpm with a similarly peaked 200Nm. The 197 woofs its way right up to a 7500rpm cut-out, with peak power at 7250rpm. Its 145kW (197 French horsepower – 194 for the rest of the world), is backed by a relatively flat 215Nm torque curve, which eats Wakefield Park with an appetite that belies its small frame.
It grips up off the line with fervour and eventually punches a 6.9sec 0-100km sprint time (versus the Clio 182's 7.3 sec). It would be even faster if those big 17s weren't so darn grippy. But who is complaining, when it garners tenths on every single corner?
And the sound, the delivery, even the look was simply more edgy. While the rawness is gone, the Clio is more sophisticated in its manner and execution. The styling has softened, yet its flared guards sport black breathing ducts, diffusers and angular ports.
It is marginally softer, but it's also marginally more liveable. And it's hard to criticise this new direction Renault has taken.
Does this mean I’m growing up; getting old? Perhaps. But so is the Renault Sport Clio.
And with maturity comes more expensive tastes. Nearing $40,000 on the road, it is off the affordable list for many of the younger, single-male types that the 182 snared.
Though options are minimal - front and rear Super1600-style spoilers ($425), metallic paint ($800), Xenons ($1750), 6-CD stacker ($800) and sunroof ($1890) – they add up to a big hip-pocket hit. They're also the worst aspect of this lovely little French bulldog.
Mine was a RenaultSport Clio 182 Cup. Its plain silver wrapping hid a paradoxical mix of hardcore machinery and timid driver; its charcoal wheels hinting at hidden performance; its screaming 7000rpm bark matching its grippy bite.
And for a first-time hillclimber, it was the perfect partner, a loyal four-wheeled friend. The Clio, with its yappy, torquey 2.0-litre, flat handling with a hint of tail-wag, and its upright, alert seating position and close pedals was near infallible, and hilarious fun.
Four years on, with memories of the trusty 182 strengthened by time and forgotten detail, the new Clio RenaultSport 197 had a high hill to climb. In my eyes, especially.
The local launch had been delayed by almost a year, due to a long-running argument between Renault Oz and its French parents over the need for just one top-shelf car from a large hatch range. There will be no slow 1.6-litre Clio runabout; just the top shelf 145kW 2.0-litre at a lofty $36,490.
Anticipation was further heightened by the drive program’s theme – a day in the life of a club racer, incorporating a drive from Canberra to Wakefield Park circuit for timed hot laps.
The only blot on the page was a years' worth of overseas reports on the 197, stating that its stretched frame, 205kg bloat (now 1240kg), and lack of the optional firm Cup chassis had turned the hardcore Clio soft.
And they’re right – the 197 is not as barking mad as that 182 Cup from my fond blurry memories. But it hits that often elusive sweet spot between road and track car with a mallet. In fact, both smaller and larger sports cars could take a leaf from the Clio’s spring set-up.
Even without the benefit of a direct comparison, you do not miss the Cup suspension (or, for that matter, an independent rear). On the road, bumps are translated through a sophisticated and supple set of joints; with aggressive pedal work on the track, the Clio takes directions with a flat, no-nonsense attitude and default bum-steer.
Torque steer tug is almost non-existent, due in part to the 197's new aluminium suspension set-up, which saves 7.5kg while isolating the steering axis from the connecting springs and dampers.
Turn-in is deft and without push or familiar front-wheel interference, though the steering wheel could use more on-centre feel. And that truck-like upright driving position is relaxed, the wheel more vertical and ergonomic – though the lack of telescopic adjustment still leaves the long-legged a little distanced from the action.
The old Clio developed 124kW @ 6250rpm with a similarly peaked 200Nm. The 197 woofs its way right up to a 7500rpm cut-out, with peak power at 7250rpm. Its 145kW (197 French horsepower – 194 for the rest of the world), is backed by a relatively flat 215Nm torque curve, which eats Wakefield Park with an appetite that belies its small frame.
It grips up off the line with fervour and eventually punches a 6.9sec 0-100km sprint time (versus the Clio 182's 7.3 sec). It would be even faster if those big 17s weren't so darn grippy. But who is complaining, when it garners tenths on every single corner?
And the sound, the delivery, even the look was simply more edgy. While the rawness is gone, the Clio is more sophisticated in its manner and execution. The styling has softened, yet its flared guards sport black breathing ducts, diffusers and angular ports.
It is marginally softer, but it's also marginally more liveable. And it's hard to criticise this new direction Renault has taken.
Does this mean I’m growing up; getting old? Perhaps. But so is the Renault Sport Clio.
And with maturity comes more expensive tastes. Nearing $40,000 on the road, it is off the affordable list for many of the younger, single-male types that the 182 snared.
Though options are minimal - front and rear Super1600-style spoilers ($425), metallic paint ($800), Xenons ($1750), 6-CD stacker ($800) and sunroof ($1890) – they add up to a big hip-pocket hit. They're also the worst aspect of this lovely little French bulldog.