The Vellfire is no more than a faster, spruced up Alphard

Toyota Alphard. PHOTO | COURTESY

What you need to know:

  • The engines in the 2010 car vs the 2016 car should be the same for the 3.5 litre V6, called the 2GR. However, the smaller 4-cylinder got upgrades in both displacement and output (from a 170hp 2.4 litre to a 180hp 2.5 litre), with the inclusion of a hybrid version of the newer unit.
  • I didn’t know anybody stocked a 2016 Alphard/Vellfire in the country, but the near-100 per cent price difference relative to the cheaper vehicle is understandable: one car is seven years old, the other is barely a year old, and one is the sporty version of the other.

Hello,

Kindly give your opinion on the Vellfire and the Alphard. What is the difference, really?

Also, what are the main differences in the engines of the 2010 shape and 2016 for the two machines. The Vellfire costs twice as much as the Alphard in Nairobi at the moment.

Mike

 

Hi Mike,

The Vellfire is nothing more than a fast Alphard. Same car, more oomph: that’s the difference. The engines in the 2010 car vs the 2016 car should be the same for the 3.5 litre V6, called the 2GR. However, the smaller 4-cylinder got upgrades in both displacement and output (from a 170hp 2.4 litre to a 180hp 2.5 litre), with the inclusion of a hybrid version of the newer unit.

I didn’t know anybody stocked a 2016 Alphard/Vellfire in the country, but the near-100 per cent price difference relative to the cheaper vehicle is understandable: one car is seven years old, the other is barely a year old, and one is the sporty version of the other. Obviously, you will pay more for the newer, faster car.

*******

Dear Sir,

I read your column regularly and find that some enquiries provide much-needed comic relief in these tough times. I want to throw  a spanner in the works. 

I’d like you to play Sherlock Holmes  and share with me your thoughts on my personality from my vehicle history. Here goes:

First car (inherited from old man) in 1992, Renault 16 TX (was pretty fast), then Peugeot 504 SR, Hyundai Elantra 1.8, Peugeot 405 SR,  Mitsubishi Chariot (you can tell the kids started dropping in here!)  Nissan  X-Trail (T30), Ford Ranger (D Cab) 2.5 XLT,  Toyota Prado 3.0 D4D,  and currently, two Nissan X-Trail T31s (his and hers situation going on here) and a Ford Ranger T6 single cab (4x4). Oh, and there’s a MAN 340 truck (“trailer”) and New Holland TT 75 tractor. I’m 54. Crack that! 

Patrick 

 

Aah, a chance at psychoanalysis... one of the few things I’m actually very poor at. That has never stopped me though...

The Renault was a hand-me-down so that doesn’t count.

Peugeot 504 SR: Did the fast Renault develop in you an affinity for French automobiles? And when you go French, what better manifestation than Peugeot, which is for all intents and purposes the national vehicle of France the same way Mercedes-Benz is Germany’s automotive brand ambassador? The 504 was Peugeot’s Mercedes-Benz 123: the highly versatile and simultaneously desirable voiture du jour tailored for Africa and targeted at those with lofty ambitions but lacking the resources to shell out for a 126/605.

Hyundai Elantra: The 504 probably sucked all the green out of your wallet in fuel costs, forcing you to descend one or two rungs on the automotive hierarchy. The Hyundai Elantra was dirt-cheap when new and had as its sole selling point its outstanding fuel economy. The reason for its cheapness was fairly obvious... the car had not really good qualities to speak of that it was hard to find anything worse.

Peugeot 405 SR: The sheer blandness and breadline tendencies of the Hyundai got old really fast and fond memories of Peugeot started rearing their heads in your motoring heart. The 504’s painful lesson in fuel economy led you to try out the new-fangled 405, which had Pininfarina styling as a bonus, making it an achingly beautiful and modern car for the time.

Mitsubishi Chariot: Besides the introduction of descendants into the picture, the Chariot was your first foray into Japanese hardware after conceding the fact that Peugeot cars are a rock-solid manifestation of the thesis that beautiful things are notoriously fickle. They are good for looking at but basically useless when called upon to pull their weight.

Nissan X-Trail: This might have been a purchase borne out of fascination with the (then) new and avoidance of Mitsubishis which are not that far removed from Peugeot as far as unreliability goes. The Chariot had 5 seats, which made you wonder why you bought something van-like which offered no more practicality than an ordinary longroof. The X-Trail’s butch looks, available 4WD and good ground clearance made it far more useful than the hypocritical Chariot.

Ford Ranger: Perhaps the X-Trail was not hardy enough for your uses. You needed something tougher and more robust.

Toyota Prado: This took over from the Ranger because the Ranger is a pickup and, therefore, a commercial vehicle. Inspection routines and TLB requirements became an inconvenience that you felt you could do without and you, therefore, moved on to something similarly masculine but with less hassle. Thankfully, double-cab pickups are now considered “private” rather than commercial vehicles.

More X-Trails: Well, you were not going to strap the Mrs into a humongous Prado which has boat-like handling as a deterrent against the delicate of constitution. But you still needed something useful enough for the unpaved roads without worrying about body kits and oil sumps.

Another Ranger: Double cabs having changed status from commercial to private meant that those pesky protocols involving stickers and licences were a thing of the past. You could now own a Ranger painlessly.

MAN truck: This shows that your transport needs expanded rapidly and you needed something far bigger than a pickup.

New Holland Tractor: Obviously, you are closely attached to the agricultural sector, since the tractor could either be for hire or for immediate use.

My guess is you are a farmer, and a pretty successful one at that. You left the city life (early cars indicate town use) after starting a family (Chariot) to try your hand at agriculture somewhere remote-ish with less-than-stellar infrastructure (all cars that came after the Chariot have 4WD and high ground clearance). Your agribusiness picked up rapidly, requiring higher-payload carriers for your produce (two Ford Rangers followed by a truck) and earning you enough green to buy a tractor; and tractors are not cheap. You, my friend, are a very successful farmer.

How far off the mark am I?

***** 

I salute you, Baraza,

I am an ardent fan of Car Clinic and follow it religiously.

I own a Toyota Ipsum 240i and I have always hoped I would one day read your analysis of the vehicle. In fact, I  wrote to you once on it but my inquiry never made to the pages. However, in the article of June 7, I saw a question from a reader on the Ipsum S Series asking about its effectiveness, efficiency, economy, durability and resale value. I really looked forward to your reply. But you were a disappointment. Your response was a 4-sentence paragraph that reeked of dismisiveness. Were you covering for your ignorance of the vehicle. If you have not yet had experience with it, you should have simply said so –  it is neither a sin nor illegal to be ignorant in Kenya.

I humbly and strongly request that you revisit the Ipsum Issue. I will continue hoping!

Fan-sugu GK

 

Hello Fan-Sugu GK,

Yes, I was covering for my ignorance of the vehicle but more importantly, I was trying to instill a thought process in my readership. Car Clinic is a two-way street: if you already have a vehicle, I expect you to tell me about it rather than ask me questions about it. How would you feel if you were based in Mombasa and I asked you what the weather in Nairobi was like, yet you know full well that I am currently in Nairobi as I pose that question? Ridiculous, isn’t it?

It’s neither a sin nor illegal to be ignorant* in Kenya, or else Car Clinic would double up as a kangaroo court and a confessional for potential jailbirds and the hell-bound. However, I am about to make it a cardinal infraction worthy of purgatory to ask repeat questions, especially along the lines of durability (take care of your car!) and resale value (business acumen and salesmanship are not universal skills!). That being said, the Ipsum is a Toyota: what do you expect the durability and resale value to be like? Effectiveness will depend on what you want to use the car for. Family trips to church on Sunday? A1. Transporting livestock to the market in a remote area with goat tracks for infrastructure? Not so good. Economy will depend on how you drive. The car is relatively big (poor for economy) but it has a new-age electronically controlled engine (good for economy). So there is a fine line being walked here: it will boil down to your right foot.

[*NB: ignorance is an offence by proxy in some cases; ignorance of the law to be exact. One of the things they will tell you in court while when you are arraigned is, “Ignorance is no defence”. Just saying - Baraza JM]

*****

Dear Baraza,

For the last five years, my 2005 Mazda Premacy (Crew) has been running with a permanent “check engine light” on. Diagnosis was done in December 2012 and the result said: “P2009 - Intake manifold runner control circuit low bank 1”.

Every year since then, I try to get it fixed but so far no one has any clue what the message means, let alone how to fix it. All they do is switch off the error message but the CEL comes on again in five minutes!

Thankfully, the car runs normally, with no problem at all. It’s just that I get the feeling that there might be something eating away gradually and one day it will stop running suddenly!

So here are my questions:

1. In simple language, what is wrong with the car?  What is this “Intake manifold runner control circuit” that is “low”?

2. What are the “invisible” consequences of driving the car with this problem for a long time?

3. Which garages around Nairobi are good with car electronics that can fix the problem?

I would really appreciate your assistance because I am thinking of selling the car within the next 12 months but I think it will be hard to sell with a permanent CEL on.

Mungai

 

Listen, I’m not sure there is a simple way of explaining what an inlet manifold runner control is without diving into jargon, the kind of which sends readers glassy-eyed and questioning why they bought the newspaper. This won’t stop me from trying to explain it away, though.

1. Intake Manifold Runner Control: This is the management unit of an electronically or vacuum-operated butterfly valve located within the intake manifold to “vary the size of the engine”, in a manner of speaking. Listen here very carefully:

Fuel economy is the current fad among automakers in a bid to worm their way into the hearts of the environmentally conscious, and those with short-pocket syndrome, whether psychological or physical. Since performance is a plus as well, there have been many methods of conjuring up Jekyll-and-Hyde powerplants that can be both economical and rabid performers without the need for modification. Turbocharging is one of the methods, as is variable valve timing. Cylinder deactivation has been explored, as has the start-stop functionality. Then there is the IMRC...

The IMRC theoretically varies engine size by manipulating how much and how fast air is going into the engine, but it is not the throttle. What it does is maximise manifold pressure and optimise air flow into the engine by opening and closing the butterfly valves within the manifold to either create the illusion of a lower capacity engine in terms of air flow (very good for economy, especially when the cubic inches wander south of two litres), or a sort of turbocharging effect by pressurising the air through nozzling or jetting.

Think of it as squeezing the tip of a hose pipe. The flow rate of water is still the same, but the pressure increases and the jet of water travels further and faster. This is how the IMRC works: the air flow rate into the engine is still the same but the “pressure” and speed is much higher.... kind of like a turbocharger, but it is nothing like a turbo.

2. Consequences of a failed IMRC: Well, of course the air flow into the engine is limited to atmospheric. That means you lose the benefit of the virtual boosting and faster flow. The IMRC is not really necessary for engine operation but where installed and it fails, there will be consequences such as hard starts, reduced performance in some cases (or even stalling), poor fuel economy and potential misfires. Of course the CEL comes on as well, and stays on.

3. I seriously have no idea who can fix this. Most times a replacement of the errant gadget is the only surefire cure.