We don't usually park like this...
Well, it was fun while it lasted. Actually that’s not quite fair... it was often hilarious, and even at the 10,000 mile mark when we had to give our FQ360 back to Mitsubishi, the thrill of wringing the stuffing out of the jet-black missile hadn’t diminished one jot, and that’s in spite of a few compromises that made themselves evident during our period of ownership.
Compromise number one was comfort, because racking up any sort of serious mileage in the Mitsi’s restricted race-car style buckets was usually a recipe for a numb arse, if not a stiff back. The driving position demands an arms out-stretched posture, not helped by too-tight wings to the seatbacks that forced my (admittedly broad) shoulders forward and my spine into the sort of curvature that I never dared mention to my chiropractor. Smaller frames than mine were not quite so abused, but I don’t think any of our number found the seating quite as cosseting as it might have been, and more adjustment would have been welcome.
Compromise number two was probably hearing damage, as our FQ360 came fitted with a massive stereo installation that had to be turned up very loud to overcome the combination of tyre and mechanical noises that were the car’s constant companions – especially at motorway speeds as the five-ratio manual gearbox kept the engine spinning busily from 70mph all the way up to… yes, well, quite! (The official figures state a maximum speed of 155mph is achievable, but we couldn't possibly comment.)
Compromise number three was, I suppose, fuel consumption. We averaged anything between 16mpg and 22mpg on high octane unleaded in general usage. I did get the average up to 28mpg on the trip computer on one drive to work, in an admittedly pointless attempt to see what was possible. By the same token, returns in the low teens were regularly achievable too, although registering an average of under 10mpg over a meaningful distance remained an elusive ambition. With a surprisingly small fuel tank, those figures meant visits to the fuel station at intervals of not much more than every 200-220 miles. This might have been a pain, although ironically the enforced pit-stops were usually a welcome opportunity for some pilates stretches. (See compromise one, above.)
'Unco' not very appropriate, but this is art!
Anyway, in the light of the extreme performance on offer, are those numbers really so bad? If you can’t afford it, do what everyone else does and start another credit card.
Compromise number four was a navigation system that would only accept the first half of a given postcode. WHHHYYYYYY???? Few things in the automotive world are more frustrating than a satnav that won’t accept postcode destinations, especially when it’s part of an all-singing, all-dancing enter/info-tainment console that’s clever enough to rip any CD you play onto an onboard hard drive, can re-route you around live traffic problems as they happen and will make hands-free telephone calls from your mobile. (Although the bluetooth phone system was itself next to useless at motorway speeds. See compromise two, above.)
Rear spoiler looks hard, but ruins visibility
But enough of the compromises already, I hear you say, and you’re absolutely right. I mentioned them first because, had I not, I could easily have used up 1000 words in a drooling eulogy to this mad, bad, and utterly addictive driving machine.
Riggers took the FQ360 to the Help For Heroes trackday at the Bovington tank testing ground recently, and you can read his impressions on the car’s off-road qualities here if you haven’t already. For me, though, it’s on the road that this machine really shines, where its 354bhp 2.0 turbocharged four provides shattering acceleration – try 0-60mph in 4.1secs – and where the chassis provides the sort of animalistic agility you’d expect from a WRC-inspired set-up.
Brighton speed trial anyone?
Even with all the electronics switched on, the Evo X delivers a level of engagement for its driver that is simply astonishing, with razor-sharp steering responses and a compliant fluidity to the damping that means the weighty four-door body always seems poised and perfectly balanced. It’s something that’s particularly evident on demanding combinations of fast corners like a twisty moorland road where the tarmac may dip, weave and undulate for all it’s worth without unsettling progress. To my mind it’s a far more harmonious experience than that other paragon of Japanese performance, Nissan’s GT-R. They’re both big weighty machines, but while the Nissan crushes all before it like a supersonic steam-roller, the Evo X seems to work much more closely with the landscape rather than attempting to obliterate it, and the driver is that much more engaged – if perhaps less ‘awestruck’ - as a result. The Evo X is certainly more softly-sprung than the rock-hard GT-R, but the Mitsubishi does still crash and bump noisily and occasionally uncomfortably across ruts, potholes and those horrid concrete slab-paved motorway sections. Some would find that bothersome, but to me it was simply a reminder I was driving a (would-be) WRC car, and all part of the fun.
This view helped when overtaking
By far the most fun though, is the raw performance Mitsubishi has extracted from this 2.0 four. Off the line you need to make sure you’ve a few revs in hand, or you might find the car bogging down awkwardly in front of a looming potential accident at junctions. Once the needle is round to 2000rpm though, the turbo is spinning and the FQ360 really starts to fly, riding a wave of power and torque that’s delivered pretty much seamlessly all the way up to the rev-limiter. Not quite so seamless is the gearchange, which is baulky and difficult when cold, especially in the lower gears. Warmed up things improve a little, but the gearchange never feels fluid or particularly slick – a problem not improved by a very heavy clutch pedal on our car. (Incidentally, Mitsubishi loaned us an FQ400 for a few days after this car went back, and I was surprised to find that not only did the clutch pedal seem far lighter, but the steering felt far less edgy too, perhaps a result of wider rubber, and a lower ride height. In the FQ360 at speed, the steering was so lively it sometimes felt as though a careless sneeze would pitch you off the road, while tarmac ‘tramlines’ in the lorry lanes could almost snatch the wheel from your hands.)
Rusty bits - as mentioned previously
As mentioned at the top of this story, we just managed to reach the 10,000 mile mark in our six months or so with the car, which meant we got to sample a bit of Mitsubishi dealer service at my nearest outlet in Brighton.
It’s fair to say that the ambience of your average Mitsubishi outlet is not comparable with the designer-palaces hawking Audis or Bimmers these days, and when you’re thinking of spending circa £40k on a car that might be a consideration. However, if the service dished out at Brighton Mitsubishi is anything like typical for the network, they certainly make up for any lack of glamour with genuine enthusiasm for the Evo model they’re looking after, and a seemingly genuine desire to offer great service.
Just before the 10k mark, the car started to get a bit stuttery on idle, which Brighton Mitstubishi put down to a breather pipe on the turbo installation that had become unattached. They also offered to respray the unsightly oxidisation afflicting the cast iron brake disc centres, but advised it would only be delaying the inevitable as the corrosion would swiftly return. I reckoned an all-over oxidised effect would look better than new paint that would only go scabby anyway, so we didn't do that.
In our case, the 10,000 mile service was ‘free’ under a Mitsubishi three year service contract, but we still ended up coughing up over £700 on various bits. A pair of front tyres came in at £195 each (fitted), and £350 had to go on a bit of paintwork after somebody nameless managed to scuff the rear three quarter panel and the bumper. Still, the news wasn’t all bad as one of the chaps at the dealership reckoned most of their Evos don’t need front tyres until at least 14,000 miles. At PistonHeads, we try harder!
Pictures: Caroline Maguire
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