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RE: Going wild in a Skoda Yeti

Monday 14th September 2015

Going wild in a Skoda Yeti

Sod the school run, how's the Yeti when the going gets REALLY tough? To the Carpathians to find out!

Skoda's Yeti isn't the best-handling family car money can buy. Nor is it even the best-handling small SUV. And things don't get any better when you hit the dirt. A tough Defender-rival it isn't. It's just a great all-rounder. Now, that might be good enough for What Car? readers but it's never been enough for elevation to PH-worthy status.

Only it is, according to a growing bunch of PHers flying the flag for the Yeti. And it's a cult with a loyal band of followers who are, at times, scarily passionate. There's even one lunatic who's spent thousands transforming his little Skoda into a 500hp 911 GT3-botherer.

So, with no signs of its popularity waning, PH accepted Skoda's invitation to drive its mildly enhanced 2015 Yeti on an 'off-road adventure'.

From Belgrade to Romania in three days

Who are you calling a count?
Called the Skoda Euro Trek 2015, our journey would see us travel from Belgrade, Serbia, east directly over the Carpathian Mountains into Transylvania to the city of Sibiu in Romania. Over three days and 385 miles of driving the Yeti would travel over some of roughest, toughest roads Romania has to offer. Well it would if I could get out of Belgrade's sweltering Terminal 2 car park that is.

Stuck between two automated barriers, less than 30 seconds into my adventure, and I've lost the ticket to exit the car park. Instantly there's a 30-strong queue of impatient Serbians stuck behind me. I sit, impotently, and try to go to my 'happy place'.

Of course it does help I'm in a full-on Jurassic Park-spec Yeti, complete with roof-mounted spare and Euro Trek 2015 stickers plastered over it. Worse still, my name is emblazoned down the flanks. Eventually, we make our escape and I can now honestly say I'm fluent in Serbian hand gestures.

Skoda pop-up coffee this way

Hitting the highway, Serbia could be Germany, right down to the 155mph Mercedes and BMW-sponsored fly-pasts. I'm tempted to chase them down, if only to see how bad the combined racket of the roof rack and Yokohama Geolander mud tyres gets over 120mph.

It's only at a place called Golubac when things get interesting. Directed to drive up a tight, narrow farm track to a Skoda pop-up coffee stop, we're finally treated to a view of where we'll be speding the next few days - the towering Carpathian Mountains, just on the other side of a sparkling blue Danube.

Caffeinated and shaking after a wild mutt attempted to take half my hand off, we cross the river and crawl through the border crossing. It's there we spot an alarming number of Brit-registered confiscated vehicles including a very sorry for itself second-gen Toyota MR2. From then on it's easy going all the way to Baile Herculane, a small town famous (in Romania) for its thermal spas. It's our overnight destination.

The next day my luck continues.

Serious off-roading starts here

Key to success
Less than 10 minutes into our journey I witness the harrowing sight of the Skoda's auto wipers sweeping our car keys from its hidden resting place outside into the scenery - at 60mph. Luckily, the keys were not hurled into the river that runs beside the road and we find them, slightly battered, 200 metres back down the road.

Today the serious off-roading starts and we're told to lower the Yeti's tyre pressures.

Setting off we find ourselves on reasonably well-maintained dirt roads, potholed in places, corrugated in others but nothing to challenge our Skoda's comfortable, long-travel suspension. Dirt driving does lull you into a false sense of security though. There's always more grip than you'd ever imagined. This goads you into driving faster and faster until, inevitably, the tyres give up and you're treated to the kind of breakaway ice drivers are familiar with.

Racing lines (unless you're in a rally car) are also a no-no. Soft verges build up treacherous pockets of gravel. Touch one with your right wheels as you carve into a left-hander and you'll be oversteering before you see the apex - if you make it that far.

Never leave a man behind

Rally style
Tracing along a small meandering river we pass through remote community after community. It's difficult to get a handle on Romania so far. One minute you see homes with little evidence of power lines, or even running water and sanitation, the next you pass modern farms and houses with huge expensive farming machinery parked up outside. Cattle, so far have been the biggest hazard - that and selfies as one driver manages to hit a huge pothole as he gurns for the camera, blowing out the front tyre.

The easy progress continues through the valleys until we hit part of the Transalpina or 'Kings Road' that passes us through a truly depressing communist-era town, complete with crumbling tower blocks and coal mines. We're glad to get out of town and begin our climb back up the mountains. For once, the Skoda begins to struggle with the mixture of inclines and loose dirt and gravel, finally the Haldex clutch earns its living, shuffling torque backwards to boost traction. Then it begins to rain.

Things get serious.

Bound to happen at some point

What could go wrong?
With standing water, thick mud and badly rutted paths, momentum is the name of the game and, after climbing behind the wheel, I decide to unleash my inner McRae. With traction control off (ESP can't be fully deactivated) and the six-speed DSG in 'manual' even the mud tyres spin up to send rooster tails of filth through the air. The trick is, I tell my co-driver, is to turn-in on the brakes and pick up the throttle. We indulge in some glorious slides on the brief drive to the summit, then my luck kicks in.

Stranded at the side of the road I survey the damage. A rock has sliced all the way through the sidewall of the reinforced tyre. My embarrassment is short-lived because less than five minutes down the track three more Yetis are hobbled by punctures.

The deluge of rain has washed away the mud to reveal hungry, razor sharp rocks.We all feel sorry for the overworked Skoda support crew as they spring into action, but the breathtaking view bathed in golden late afternoon sun raises our spirits after hours of rain. The next 20km are tough as everyone crawls to the hotel terrified of another puncture.

Only the next morning can we truly appreciate where we are.

Located in the middle of the Retezat national park, somewhere deep within the forest are bears we're told. I ask one of our guides if we'd see one. Misunderstanding he said it would cost €7000-€10,000 and he'd get the gun hire thrown in.

Back on an old logging road it's as slippery as ever - but before we get too carried away marvelling in the Yeti's astonishing capability, we see a local tackling the same stretch of track in a 16-year-old Golf with road tyres, sagging suspension and six passengers. After a good 40 minutes stuck behind sheep on the road we go off-piste and leave our fellow adventurers to another day of selfies with sheep and shepherds. We're on a mission.

The Yeti really shines here

"Let's not go..."
The night before over a delicious meal of grilled meat with a side order of grilled meat with a light grilled meat salad I plotted a new course to make a pilgrimage to somewhere truly special. Our guide shakes his head. "Too busy, lots of tourists, assholes in buses, assholes on bicycles, too many assholes, let's not go."

Yeap, we were heading to the Transfagarasan Pass.

Traffic on the way is depressingly heavy but as we approach the mountain something miraculous happens. The road clears.

It's time for the Yeti to shine and do you know what? It really does. Despite flexing sidewalls from the mud tyres, and greater roll angles thanks to the 40kg roof rack suspended above my head, the Skoda is an absolute riot. Trail brake in to a corner to cancel the initial understeer, get the nose tucked-in, throttle and, with the added weight, there's even some roll oversteer.

The same technique as driving in the mud with the same balanced results.

An impressive drive

Even the 2.0-litre diesel doesn't let the side down, delivering plenty of acceleration for the job while the six-speed DSG ensures not a single horsepower is in vain. The steering, meanwhile, despite the tyres, feels precise enough.

The forest and badly surfaced road gradually bleed into a vast treeless landscape with perfectly surfaced tarmac. Adding to the race circuit feel are red and white painted crash barriers, rub strips and cambers that work with you to ensure your pace is limited only by your bravery. Reaching the top I can't work out what's more impressive. The road or the fact I've just had one of the best drives in years in a humble Yeti.

Could I readily join the growing Yeti fanbase on PH? If I could spend my summer replicating trips like this? Absolutely, yes.

Now, what other great all-rounders do our colleagues on What Car? recommend?

SKODA YETI 2.0 TDI 4x4 DSG
Engine: 1,968cc 4-cyl, turbodiesel
Transmission: 6-speed dual-clutch auto, four-wheel drive
Power (hp): 150@3,500rpm
Torque (lb ft): 251@1,750rpm
0-62mph: 9.2sec
Top speed: 119mph
Weight: 1,510kg (EU)
MPG: 51.4mpg (claimed)
CO2: 144g/km

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nicholasm

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