Sporadically, we slow down to pass through little
settlements with names like Bluddihell or Skrotum, a dozen or so inhabited houses clad in red- or
mustard-painted boards, plus a few more derelict ones. Maybe
a little church. Alongside is always a cemetery that spreads large, not
because it serves many living people but because it encloses the mortal remains
of a very few families over very, very many generations. They’d need to be the sort who are satisfied by a life that’s profoundly
essential, magnificently untrivial.
A blackened grille
is among the changes specific to the S1
Eventually a higher massif looms ahead, deeper in snow, and
a skirl of sleet starts whipping around us. But as our plan had foreseen, once
we get over the top, there’s evidence of the warmer Atlantic weather systems.
The lying snow gradually gives up the struggle against the ceaseless rain. We
cross into Norway at a grand border post, but on this afternoon there’s no more
visible human life than in those graveyards.
We drop down into a river gorge between a grey-blue river
and blue-grey rock, and the lying snow is gone. The road curves about a bit, so
the S1 can begin to show its stuff. But there’s better to come. At the coast,
we head north, onto a series of fingers of land poking out into the Trondheim
fjord. The roads are narrow but well-sighted, peppered in corners that twist in
the vertical plane as well as the horizontal. And the little Audi reveals
itself as quite the back-roads tear-away.
A six-speed manual
is standard; no automatic is offered
The engine has torque all over the place, largely shrugging
off any lag-delay from 3,000rpm up, staying smooth and sharpening as it goes
deep into the sixes. The exhaust doesn’t play any particular theatrics, though
it is a bit louder when you hit Dynamic. Of course, I still complied with TG
standard operating procedure by winding down the window in every one of the
tunnels that our route threaded. The gearshift is short in its throw, light and
precise, if not particularly quick, but the clutch and throttle actions are
well modulated for satisfying shifts. Anyway, the fat torque curve means you
can change at a time when you’re not busy with the steering. The first three
gears are all you need on a single carriageway; the rest are for relaxing, unless
you’re on an autobahn.
At speed, these tyres kick up a
pervasive grinding noise. And just as they help make ice feel a little like
tarmac, so they make tarmac feel a little like ice: they react with vacancy or
nervousness if you’re tentative in shallow curves. Best to be decisive, and
then they load up cleanly. Even so, their grip is always on the tenuous side.
Not that the S1 minds in the least.
Black infill panel
sets the S1 apart from other models
Downstream from your hands is an electric steering
assistance that’s redesigned entirely from other S1s. On this greasy wet
surface, it does a good impersonation of hydraulic, live streaming the front tyres’ efforts during the initial mild understeer.
So that’s the first part of the corner sorted out. Through the middle section
and on out, you can just lean on the power, feel the balance shift rearwards
and scoot solidly away. There’s electronic control of the front-rear torque
balance, and basic torque-vectoring by brakes, but nothing too fancy. It’s
transparent and natural.
The Dynamic button also changes the programming of the
adaptive dampers, but only subtly so. Maybe in full-limit dry cornering you
could use the extra stiffness, but today they don’t seem to be tensing up much.
The ride is firm or even stiff, but it stays the right side of harsh-edged.
