Test Drive: 2009 Volvo XC90 V8 R-Design

2009 Volvo XC90 R-Design. Click image to enlarge

Related articles on Autos First Drive: 2006 Volvo XC90 V8 First Drive: 2006 Volvo XC90 V8 First Drive: 2003 Volvo XC90 Test Drive: 2007 Volvo XC90 3.2 Test Drive: 2006 Volvo XC90 V8 Test Drive: 2004 Volvo XC90 2.5T Test Drive: 2003 Volvo XC90 Manufacturer’s web site Volvo Cars Canada Join the official Autos Facebook group

Review and photos by Jil McIntosh

Find this vehicle in Autos’s Classified Ads

Photo Gallery:
2009 Volvo XC90

Second opinion by Peter Bleakney

Oshawa, Ontario – Introduced for 2003, the Volvo XC90 is getting ready for its close-up. It won’t undergo a complete redesign for 2010 – that program has apparently been set back, probably to 2012 – but it will get a freshening-up next model year. My 2009 tester, then, marks the last of this particular incarnation. And so it’s only fitting that I went out right on top, with the seven-seater V8 model, further enhanced with the sportier R-Design package.

It’s a handsome beast, especially with its 20-inch alloy wheels, dual exhaust and one of the prettiest instrument clusters on the market, but I have to admit full disclosure: I don’t care for the XC90. It’s odd, really, because there are several things that I do like; they’re just not enough to overcome the fact that it’s bland to drive, it’s thirsty, and it just isn’t a vehicle that turns my crank.

The XC90 comes with a choice of two powerplants: a 3.2-litre inline six-cylinder, and my tester’s 4.4-litre V8, both mated to a six-speed automatic with manual shift mode. There’s a “Winter” button that starts off in third gear to prevent wheel spin, too. Producing 311 horsepower and 325 lb-ft of torque, the V8 is a delightfully smooth engine. It’s also better-mated to the vehicle; the six-cylinder needs to think about it when it’s asked for hard acceleration, but the V8 soldiers on, no matter what the circumstances.

2009 Volvo XC90 R-Design. Click image to enlarge

Against a published rating of 16.2 L/100 km in the city and 10.6 on the highway, I averaged 15.8. Given its upscale nameplate, I was pleasantly surprised to find that while premium is recommended for maximum performance, the engine’s quite happy to be fed 87-octane gasoline. That’s at least a small comfort when you’re packing that much fuel into the filler neck.

The six-cylinder is available in front-wheel drive in the U.S., but in Canada, all models come with an all-wheel system that’s up to 95 per cent front-biased under normal driving conditions. It swaps up to 50 per cent torque to the rear when necessary, and does a good job of it; that, and the Bridgestone Blizzaks wrapped around the rims made for excellent traction when I drove into a fierce and unexpected snowstorm.

2009 Volvo XC90 R-Design. Click image to enlarge

Both the six and the eight come with five or seven seats, starting at $45,595 for the five-seater 3.2-litre, and topping out at $65,895 for the seven-seater V8. The R-Design package is available on all four configurations – six- or eight-cylinder, in five or seven seats – and adds numerous items, including a sport-tuned suspension, R-Design side mirrors (which I found too small to be useful on a vehicle this large), colour-coordinated fender extensions, sport steering wheel, R-Design upholstery, water-repellent side windows, integrated child booster seat, unique grille, floor mats, interior inlays and instrument cluster, dual exhaust, and 19-inch wheels on the six, 20-inchers on the eight. The R ranges from $56,545 for the 3.2 five-seater, to $70,595 for my seven-seater V8 tester, and mine was further optioned with a luxury package and premium sound system for $73,895. That’s a lot of money – and even more when I checked out the U.S. consumer site. Packaging and features aren’t head-to-head exact, but when I worked it out as closely as I possibly could, adding my tester’s adaptive xenon headlamps, heated seats, rain-sensing wipers and Blind Spot Information System as extra-charge options to the U.S. version, it came to $54,465. I find it hard to imagine a difference of more than $19,000; even the freight is $890 less south of the border, although all XC90s start their journey in Sweden. My bottom line: I wouldn’t pay $70,000-plus for this vehicle. It simply doesn’t feel like it’s worth that much.

2009 Volvo XC90 R-Design. Click image to enlarge

Handling is accurate, and the XC90 does exactly what it’s supposed to do, but there’s a detachment to the driving experience; I feel too safe, as if the vehicle isn’t going to let me do anything radical. I also didn’t like the R-Design’s sport suspension, which is harsh, especially with the big wheels and winter tires. This Volvo hits the bumps hard, rather than gliding over them, and I really don’t feel the need for a sports car chassis in an SUV. I’ve driven XC90 models before, and they didn’t feel that bulky at the time, but now I realize it’s because I was piloting them almost exclusively in the rural area around my home. When I had to take this 2009 version into crowded downtown Toronto, it just felt bloated and cumbersome, especially since the turning radius is huge. The dual exhaust sounds great when you’re accelerating down the street, but at idle, it becomes a loud and annoying drone.

I really like the brakes, which bring everything to a halt quickly and accurately. I didn’t like the R-Design wheel, though, which felt too thick for my hands. The cruise control button is a thin piece of hard plastic that curves up just slightly higher than its mounting place on the wheel, so that you can push it down to turn it on; the gap looks like someone tried to pry it off, and is the sole hiccup in an otherwise impeccably finished cabin. I do love the R-specific instrument dials, which are lovely blue metallic gauges. And I really like that the standard rain-sensing wipers are added to the variable intermittent type, instead of replacing them altogether. As with every rain sensor I’ve ever driven, no matter who makes it, this model had difficulty with light drizzle. I really appreciated that I could turn them off, and simply use the regular intermittent, which is all any manufacturer needs to offer.

2009 Volvo XC90 R-Design. Click image to enlarge

The R-Design also includes a Blind Spot Information System, or BLIS, which uses cameras to detect vehicles alongside, and flashes an orange warning on the A-pillar inside the car. I’ve driven a few of these systems, from different manufacturers, and this one is probably the best; it’s bright enough to catch your eye, but not so much that it’s constantly grabbing your attention. I found it handy in light of the fact that the mirrors are too small.

The centre stack is a love/hate relationship with me. It’s handsome, and I like that I can control the vent modes by pressing one of three buttons on a stylized figure to direct air to the head, chest or feet, or any combination of the three. I also like the big button to turn the stereo on and off, and adjust the volume. But other buttons and dials are small and fiddly, and require too much attention from the road to find them. How safe is a “safe” car when you’re looking down at the dash? (And on that subject, I was surprised that the XC90’s seatbelt warning light stays on for only six seconds after starting the engine, and doesn’t flash or chime again, no matter how far you drive without wearing it.) I also question the placement of the stereo auxiliary input, which is right behind the front cupholders. It’s covered by a rubber plug when not in use, but I can easily see coffee slopping into it if you don’t remember to snug it back up.

2009 Volvo XC90 R-Design. Click image to enlarge

Previously, I’d driven the six-cylinder, and found its seats to be slippery and uncomfortable. This time around, the front chairs were quite nice, and also very handsome with their contrasting piping and stitching. The second row had enough legroom for a very tall passenger, especially since the first-row seatbacks have concave panels for extra knee room; he was also impressed with the headroom. An integrated child booster seat that’s optional on regular models is standard on the R-Design; it’s in the middle position of the second row, and it not only allows you to lift the cushion up, but can also be slid forward, to make it easier to reach the child from the front seat. The rear of the centre console can be removed to make room for the seat to slide ahead.

The third row is where the XC90 and I truly part company. Almost all vehicles that stuff three rows into a footprint this size have issues. In Volvo’s case, while the seats themselves have a little more legroom and comfort than some – not enough to make me want to ride very far in them, mind you, but children should be happy back there – it’s very difficult to actually get past the second row and into them. Folding them flat is done by sliding the seat cushions backwards, and then dropping the seatbacks down. But you can only do all of that by reaching around the second row, not from the cargo area, and one cushion required an extra-hard slam to put it in place before the back would drop down. Perhaps my tester was still relatively “too new,” but I did find that all of the seat levers took considerable effort to move, and folding the seats up and down wasn’t as easy as in some competitors.

There are no complaints with the cargo area. The two-piece liftgate is made up of a top-hinged hatch and a gate that drops down, perfect as a seat when small children need their boots put on. A flip-up panel keeps smaller amounts of cargo from rolling forward, and also reveals grocery hooks. With all seats up, the cargo area is 50 cm long; put down the third-row seats, and it’s 116 cm, while dropping the second row nets you 190 cm. You can also fold the front passenger seat ahead; it doesn’t fall flat, but the head restraint goes almost to the dash, which lets you stow items up to about 225 cm long. At that point, though, you’re probably getting your goods delivered.

So does the XC90 indeed deliver the goods? It’s handsome, the V8 engine is particularly nice, it’s cargo-friendly, and it has a lovely, well-fitted interior. But I still can’t outweigh its thirst for fuel, seats that don’t reconfigure as easily as some, its nondescript driving experience, its size, and above all, its price. I’ll keep an open mind: perhaps the 2010 facelift will put a smile on my face instead.