An errant test drive of a Cayenne GTS piqued my interest in Porsche’s full-size SUV. Its V8 sang like one of the great tenors. Its chassis discussed the intricate details of handling and steering feel like a Roads Scholar. (You see what I did there?) Suddenly there seemed to be a have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too solution to the previously opposed goals of having a practical, family vehicle or getting an emotionally stimulating car. Subsequent test drives of the Cayenne’s other trim levels—base, diesel and S—made it clear that my heart only beat strongly for the loud and brash GTS, but I was still curious to see how life with a large SUV would be over a longer duration. For this reason, we’ve rented a 2014 Porsche Cayenne for the weekend and have plans to visit the beautiful eastern flanks of the Sierra Nevada mountains as fall colors spread over the region.
We arrive at our Cayenne rental in our family car, a 2011 BMW M3. The M3 is packed to the gills. The trunk is figuratively bulging with a stroller, hiking pack, large suitcase and daypacks. The bags of road-trip munchies and miscellaneous child entertainment devices have overflowed into the cabin, as usual. I extract myself from the rear bench of the M3—Kay drove us here—and circle around the Cayenne looking for pre-existing damage. Nothing unexpected found, I feverously rush to move our luggage from car to truck. Everything fits, but there is more Tetris-like finagling to get the trunk-junk under the Cayenne’s retractable luggage cover than I’d anticipated. Finally, we are ready to go. We rejoin the pain that is Los Angeles evening traffic.
This Cayenne is a thinly-loaded 2014. The base hardware includes the 300 hp V6 engine, fixed steel-spring suspension, eight-speed automatic transmission, plastic dash, and 8-way adjustable sports seats. The main option I can spot is the extended glass roof. The 22” wheels look aftermarket to me, but they are shod in OEM Pirelli Scorpion tires. On appearance alone, the base car still comes across as premium, and though I am loath to admit it, the massive wheels help the appearance.
As the city thins, so does the traffic. I finally get to pick up some speed and sense how the Cayenne handles highway driving. Even though I am high above the pavement, my impression is that of driving a sports sedan. Part of it is the visuals: The steering wheel, instrument cluster and dash could easily be from a Panamera, as could the raked windscreen. The contours of the hood are also generically Porsche, too, with slight rises where the sheet metal reaches the headlights. The driving dynamics also feel like a modern sports sedan, perhaps a BMW 328i M Sport. The ride is firm, the steering is both quick and immediate (if disappointingly feel-less), and the body control is excellent. The Cayenne feels ready to slice through traffic.
The downside to this firm suspension is that chop from LA’s concrete slab freeways is felt in the cabin, especially by backseat passengers. But on seamless pavement, the ride is reasonably nice.
We settle in for the long drive. The route north is captivating in the daylight—high desert, gives way to lava fields, then a parade of California’s tallest peaks welcome you to Bishop—but we are traveling at night. Cruise control is set to a speed that should avoid CHP wrath, and I do my best to hold the Cayenne on course as winds buffet the SUV. (We are doing much better than the half-dozen big rigs and campers I see blown off the side of the road.)
As a place to chew up the miles, the Cayenne has its pros and cons. It is a comfortable and spacious cabin, though, after an hour behind the wheel, I do wish someone had optioned the seats with adjustable lumbar support. I am also annoyed that the decorative grab handles on the door and transmission tunnel block my knees from finding a comfortable resting place. The cabin noise isn’t bad by sports car standards, but I have to raise my voice a little so that my backseat passenger can hear me over the wind and tire noise. The backseat isn’t without amenities of its own; the seats slide and tilt, and there is generous elbow room, probably enough for a child seat and two adults.
Four hours later, we arrive at our Bishop hotel and crash for the night.
Saturday is our touring day; we will be exploring several local sites and enjoying the region’s natural beauty. We load up the truck with our day supplies, drop the kiddo in her car seat, and then take the quick drive to Jack’s diner to tuck into heaping plates of eggs. A full-size SUV is both a blessing and a curse for parents with toddlers. The trunk’s power hatch is nice for easy extraction of gear, and the kiddo’s car seat is fully accessible via the open rear door. All of the stooping and twisting we are accustomed to from the M3 is avoided. The downside is that the Cayenne is wide, and its doors are quite thick. You need to find a generous parking space if you hope to exit from the vehicle.
Kay drives us from Jack’s to our Rock Creek canyon hike. The route winds past spectacular fall displays of Cottonwood trees and then climbs high up into the Sierras, where the rock peaks are brightened by recent snow. The engine grumbles as it pushes the 4,600 lbs Cayenne to 10,000’ above sea level. If there is one fly-in-the-ointment for this truck, it is the fact that the base V6 isn’t as refined or as potent as it should be. The Cayenne never feels fleet-footed. In fact, after she’s parked and we’ve started our hike, Kay tells me she tried foot-to-the-floor acceleration on the highway. I hadn’t even noticed that she’d tried.
After a breathtakingly beautiful hike, we return to the Cayenne and double back to the bright yellow Cottonwoods in Round Valley. I shoot foliage photography to my heart’s delight and even find a new vantage point to exploit thanks to the wide opening of the panoramic sunroof. Although the Cayenne feels heavy and wide from behind the wheel, these soaring trees can make it appear toylike. All the visual distractions do find one fault in the Cayenne; its quick steering makes me likely to ping-pong around in my lane when my focus is on beauty out the side windows.
We know from internet reports that North Lake, my favorite foliage spot, is already bare, but I can’t resist a visit. This is our only “off-roading” of the weekend, but it hardly counts. The washboard dirt road jiggles our guts—the Cayenne’s firm suspension doesn’t soak up ruts—but I’ve actually encountered bigger potholes in urban LA than we find on North Lake Rd. Given the Cayenne’s 22” wheels, I would not want to try any more significant off-roading anyhow.
Even without yellow leaves, North Lake is a beautiful destination. As the sun sets, we watch the lake’s surface ripple with concentric circles as fish rise and gulp down unsuspecting insects.
The final day in the Sierras starts early and offers up two playgrounds: My daughter’s has swings and slides, mine has whoops and esses.
(Over a second filling breakfast at Jack’s, I’d debated whether or not I should drive Hwy 168 in the Cayenne. The Cayenne is big and underpowered and doesn’t cry out to be hooned. But Hwy 168 is one of my top three favorite roads in CA, so I decided to give it a go.)
With my wife and daughter playing in a beautiful park in Lone Pine, I crack the whip on Hwy 168. The road is as undulating as a carnival kiddie coaster, and I laugh out loud as I bomb through drainage washes and fly over blind crests. The Cayenne’s firm suspension pays dividends, never floating or floundering over the challenging surfaces. Body roll exists but is modest. The steering, which felt overly quick yesterday, comes into context today. It is easy to navigate with small hand movements as the road flick-flacks up the canyon.
Honestly, though, my outbursts of laughter are more directly attributable to the surprise and delight that is Hwy 168 than to the fun of whipping the Cayenne. The Cayenne is composed but not joyful. Its AWD puts down the power but never reveals any tail-driven dance moves. (I’m sure Porsche offers torque-vectoring AWD, but it’s not fitted on this SUV.) Its transmission shifts promptly but isn’t snappy. Its brakes are initially dull but rise to the occasion when firmly pressed into action. Its engine complains loudly all the while. Though capable, a base Cayenne isn’t a car for a canyon. I’m sure a GTS or Turbo would be a completely different experience.
Kay and I share the long highway drive home. There is plenty of time to reflect on what this truck is and isn’t and how it fits into our lives.
Our weekend with this base Cayenne has reinforced what my dealership test drives of the base, diesel, S, and GTS trims suggested: All Cayennes are capable SUVs, but until you get to the GTS level, they aren’t imbued with that driving-enthusiast special sauce in which Ms, AMGs, and Vs are marinated. If a GTS is roughly analogous to an M3, it is reasonable to think of the base Cayenne as a BMW 328i. In fact, the base Cayenne’s suspension and steering do a good impression of a 328i sports sedan, but the illusion is let down by the 300 gasping horses and dull brakes. These weak-link components reveal the truck’s weight and make it feel slow. They also wipe out my desire to drive the Cayenne hard. (The V6 is thirsty, too: we averaged 18.7 mpg over Friday and Saturday.) Considering its mediocre acceleration, the Cayenne’s firm ride and elevated cabin noise seem unnecessary. I think Porsche should have tuned the base model for quiet, coddling cruising.
I already knew at the start of this weekend that I was attracted to the louder, sportier GTS. This weekend was more about life with a full-size luxury SUV. With this focus, I found much to like about the Cayenne. It is luxurious and attractive, and it coddles us with fine fitments and generous cabin space. When friends are in town, it would have enough room to comfortably seat four adults and a child in a car seat. For family getaways, some careful packing allows us to hide all we need and more under the trunk’s privacy cover.
Does the Cayenne, or any other large SUV, fit into our lives? In short, no. For this young family of three, a full-size SUV feels unwarranted. We are city dwellers and renters, not suburban homeowners with Home Depot shopping to haul and boats to tow. Our daily routines include solo commuting, urban errands, and parking lots designed for compact cars. In this environment, the Cayenne’s size is a liability, not an asset.
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