Option One: A Big Bad Ute.

Okay, first up: “option one” really, seriously does not mean it’s top of my list. I don’t know what’s top of my list. I’m truly so paralysed by the proliferation of possibilities, I could not quote my most likely purchase even at the point of a gun.

Secondly: I am sure there are people out there groaning and thinking, “not a ute!” A bogan’s chariot, did I hear you say? Surely this guy isn’t one of those knuckle-dragging, B&S-attending, straw-chewing country bumpkins who think a fast ute is the be-all and end-all of automotive couture?

No I am not, is the reply. And yet…

I don’t know what it is, or why it is. Perhaps it’s because I’m a young(ish) Aussie male. Perhaps there’s something in my cultural DNA – something in all of us – that is pre-programmed to desire a big bad ute. I’m not proud of it; in fact, I have fought the urge, I have denied it and derided it and sought to overcome it.

I remember when Holden released the VU-model ute back in, um, 1999 or some similar. I was a savvy and cynical teen back then; I thought myself cultured and discerning, not a snob but better than a philistine, at least.

So Holden comes out with a TV ad campaign, where a young farmer-type lad with a grim set to his face runs the dust of a dead paddock through his fingers. Then he turns to look at his shiny new Holden ute, and a smile forms… shortly thereafter he’s doing doughies, V8 on-song, Acca Dacca belting out “THUNDERSTRUCK” in the background as he whips the elements into a fury, creates a tornado via the very violence of his circle-work, which in turn pulls great fat rain drops out of the sky and brings nourishment and sustenance back to the land. (And the tornado leaves his farm unmolested, probably heading off down the road to molest some unsuspecting Ford-owner’s cattle run. Or at least we’re left to presume as much, they only had thirty seconds and the ultimate fate of the tornado was not the crux of the issue.)

First time I saw that ad, with my sophisticated, Wheels-mag reading, Cointreau-quaffing, letter-to-the-editor, Khachaturian-appreciating hipster underground ways, I thought “bah! Stuff and humbug! What sort of degenerate bogan creature are they trying to appeal to? I am offended to the utmost. As if you’d want a ute…”

Weeks go by. I see the ad again, and again. The lilting peels of Angus Young’s famous riff, the snarl of the V8, the glint of the tornado-filtered sunlight on the tiger-orange mica of the feminine, voluptuous, near-sexy curves of the VU model ute… it all soaked into my mind, sat and stewed and fomented until suddenly and unexpectedly, something in my brain went SNAP and I heard myself say “bugger. I want a ute!”

And I still do. And I can’t explain it any better than that.

So then: an analysis of the sub-set that defines a big bad ute. Holden had it nice to themselves for a while via the VU and VX SS-model utes, I never liked the look of Ford’s unloved AU, much less the goggle-eyed XR8s -- I simply couldn’t bring myself to look upon one of those every day. Except with twenty-large to spend sometime in 2012 or 2013, those models will be a bit long in the tooth, so we’ll strike them off.

VY or VZ Commodore? I was appalled at the time when Holden grafted hard, rectangular headlights onto their curvy and buxom Commodore, and I’m still not much a fan. Though when the VZ 2006 model came out, they had to retire the old 5.7 litre Gen-III engine due to emission regulations, installing the 6.0 litre Gen-IV into the relatively light confines of the same VZ body.

By all accounts, any VZ with the Gen-IV mill was an absolute rip-snorter of a drive. The bottom-end torquelessness of the Gen-III was banished forever, creating a car that could shame many an HSV only two or three years older. This apparent awesomeness is enough for me to forgive the shortcomings of the square-edged botch-job that is the headlights, which rests easier on the flat-decked Ute than the otherwise curvaceous sedan anyway, so I’d be plenty happy to own such a car. A quick search of Carpoint reveals this model can be had today for between $21k and $23k, suggesting it will fall nicely into my $20k bracket in a couple years’ time.

A happy alternative: Ford’s Falcon Ute, XR6 Turbo please. The XR8 was heavier, slower and thirstier, and I am hardly a “V8 or death!” kind of guy. Thing about this car, it looked little different from going on sale in 2002 as a BA model through to its final iteration as a BF Series II in 2008; that, plus there being little done to its driveline besides an upgrade to a six-speed manual with the BA Series 2 in 2005, means that the choices are many. Finding one at my price point will be a cinch.

Comparing the two? Both have gloriously powerful motors, and both can freely be had with three pedals and a six-speed gearbox; each are so close in that regards that I’d be happy either way. The major difference for me, however, is the rear suspension. Holden put independent rear suspension into their ute, which makes for a significantly improved ride-handling setup than the Falcon’s old-as-the-hills cart-spring design. While the Falcon is known, especially in my own experience, to have sweeter steering than any Commodore, the combination of a leaf-sprung rear end with prodigious turbo-charged power makes it less appealing. It could certainly be lived with – my previous work car was a Falcon Forte AU II with LPG, and I grew up in an ex-police Commodore VS Executive, both of which were leaf-suspended at the rear yet here I am, alive to tell the tale. But when it comes to choosing a car with performance aspirations, well, IRS would be nice.

It’s not all plain-sailing for the independently-sprung Holden, though. They cribbed their suspension design from a 1978 Opel, which was never intended to support 1800-odd kilos and control 300-odd horsepower. I know the original VU ute had the two-link design, same as the VT sedan and wagon; and while I know the VX Series II sedan received the three-link update which dramatically improved rear-end control and grip, and mostly wiped out the weird-Harold tyre wearing patterns of the earlier twin-linked Commos, I don’t think the Ute was ever upgraded to a three-link design, nor the wagon or the Statey of the time. Somebody please correct me if I’m wrong. I’d be very happy if I’m wrong in this regard – if the VX II-onwards SS ute has three links in its suspension, I’ll do backflips of joy.

Meanwhile, the cart-sprung design that Ford persists with, even to this day in their Ute (and the current-model Mustang!), has its advantages. It’s a lot lighter to begin with, and its design is such that it limits toe- and camber-change under load and power; that’s why all your Hilux-type work utes are leaf-sprung, and also why the Ford Mustang (and Chevy’s Corvette, would you believe?) are leaf-sprung as well. Don’t be fooled into thinking the Falcon’s a better load-lugger though; by dint of being lowered and sporty, the XR6’s payload capacity is in fact a little bit worse than the SS ute. I can’t quote the numbers off the top of my head, because I care not a fig for payload statistics – I intend to haul nothing heavier than arse, should I go ahead and get a ute.

So there are arguments either way, some in favour of SS, some in favour of XR6 Turbo. Only one way I can think of to resolve the issue: best to grab a prime example of each, find a good twisty byway, and let them loose. Who was it that said, there’s no better judge than the seat of thine own pants? Liberace, probably. Now there’s a man who appreciated a good set of cart-springs.