The VW ‘Dune’ Beetle review

The last days of Beetle.
Matthew DeBord/BI

• VW is
  ending the long run of the Beetle.
• The car was in production, in various forms, for 80 years.
• A few years back, I tested an offbeat trim level — the Dune
  Beetle — and I was impressed.

 

You have to be versed in VW Bug lore to fully appreciate the
“Dune” Beetle, which along with all other Beetles is on the way
out
after an eight-decade run.

VW doesn’t see a market anymore for the Beetle, when what
consumers are clamoring for are compact SUVs and
crossovers. 

And in any case, ever since Volkswagen introduced the New Beetle
in the late 1990s, the adorable reboot has struggled to shake off
the label – sexist as it may be – that it is a
woman’s car. 

(Okay, that’s not exactly how its described. “Chick
car” is the term of art in the unevolved quarters of the auto
press.)

Nobody ever said that about the original Beetle — produced from
the 1940s until the late 1970s in much of the world,
including the US, and in Mexico until the mid-2000s, but for some
reason the contemporary American male is only capable of driving
large trucks or muscle rides with more than 500 horsepower. Or
BMW 3-Series.

Anything but Bugs.

For the 2012 model year, VW moved away from the first New Beetle
design with a more aggressive body style that it has stuck with
ever since. The move hasn’t really brought the dudes in droves.

So VW went back to the archives and created a sort of two-door
quasi-offroader, based on a legendary Bug modification from the
1960s.

It was called the “Baja Bug,” and it was a Beetle with big, fat
tires that was lifted so that it could take to the California
desert a raise a little hell in the Summer of Love.

The Baja Bug in
action.
Devkotlan
Photography/Wikimedia Commons

The revived Baja Big lost, obviously, the old air-cooled,
rear-mounted engine and got a tasty 1.8L turbo four-cylinder,
making 170 horsepower.

Front-wheel drive and an abundance of modern amenities, ranging
from a lift-away sunroof to Apple CarPlay to Bluetooth
connectivity and satellite radio piped through a fantastic Fender
audio system. The Dune Beetle is also raised and
widened slightly, and the $26,760 test car that we drove a
few years back came with a “sandstorm yellow metallic” paint job,
“Dune” branding, a leather-wrapped steering wheel with yellow
topstitching, a
nifty hidden backing camera, and a jazzy spoiler.

A little higher, a little wider.
Matthew DeBord/BI

If you’ve gotten this far, you probably think this all sounds
incredibly goofy. Who in the world would want a New Beetle,
designed for bopping around town and maybe for short road trips,
that evokes a zany offroad contraption from a time when young
folks all wanted dune buggies when they grew up?

I’m not sure, really, and now that the Beetle is going away, the
window to buy is closing. But I had tons of fun in the Dune
Beetle. As it turns out, in all my years writing about cars, I’d
never sampled the New Beetle. I had experienced the original Bug,
but that was back in high school. The New Beetle was a real
lacuna —a hole in my background.

The old Bug was jittery, uncomfortable, and kinda loud. The New
Beetle is none of those things. In fact, it’s a relatively solid,
polished performer. The engine is plenty powerful and the
handling is quite crisp and precise. The overall shape of the
vehicle means that it’s fairly roomy, with ample seating for
four, although the back seat could be cramped for adults and
teenagers. And we are talking about a two-door here. Getting in
and out of the back seat is awkward. But the cargo space under
the hatch is considerable.

It’s gold on the inside. too.
Matthew DeBord/BI

Maybe people have gotten used to the New Beetle (and after a
decade and a half, they should’ve), but the Dune Beetle garnered
all manner of grins, questions, and thumbs-ups from other drivers
and folks who strolled by my driveway. The golden yellowy mustard
color, which also shows up inside the car, was especially
pleasing. 

“Is that your GOLD Beetle?” I was frequently asked.

Over the week that I tested the car, I never failed to look
forward to hopping in. The fuel economy was admirable (25 city/34
highway/28 combined) given the zesty turbocharged motor, and my
daughter and I richly enjoyed blasting everything from Led
Zeppelin to Paramore from the Fender
speakers and subwoofer.

170 horses from this little turbocharged
sucker.
Matthew
DeBord/BI

A car that you really, really want to drive and that’s a great
place to listen to rock ‘n’ roll? What’s wrong with that?

Well, the New Beetle isn’t exactly new any longer.
And even though the reboot revived an iconic piece of automotive
design and sought to restore a sense of countercultural whimsy to
motoring, the car has been passed by as consumers have
increasingly gravitated toward SUVs. This is naturally why VW
SUV-ified the Beetle, as much as it can with an obscure
throwback. People who remember Baja Bugs are people who remember
skateboading without helmets in cutoff jeans. (Obviously,
the tactic didn’t really work.)

That said, the Dune Beetle is a nifty effort and a competent
compact set of wheels. While it remains in the VW lineup, it
could probably appeal to those buyers, like myself, who are
leaning toward a certain age and might want to buy a relatively
cheap car that can serve as a pleasant daily driver or weekend
vehicle that won’t cost much to own or operate and can’t help but
put a smile on our faces.

And, quite frankly, the whole “chick car” thing isn’t new
anymore, either. The Dune Beetle is gender neutral. VW should
just quit worrying about it and let the Beetle be the Beetle.

If the other hand weren’t holding the camera. I’d make
a “V.”
Matthew
DeBord/BI