The Volvo Wagon As We Know It Is Nearly Dead So Buy One While You Still Can

The Volvo wagon as we know it is dying. The large V90 wrapped up its run last year, production of the V60 Cross Country for North America ended in April, and without a direct successor announced, all that’s left are the handful of V60 Cross Country models on dealer lots. It feels like a chasm’s opened up in the fabric of our automotive reality because once inventory’s gone, it’ll be the first time in decades that we won’t be able to buy any sort of new Volvo wagon.

Funnily enough, I’d already road-tested the V60 Cross Country last year, so you can click this link if you want standard-format consumer advice. However, with the car going away, it deserved fresh eyes. A requiem for a four-wheeled friend, so to speak. The news of this model’s demise isn’t new, but experiencing this last drive firsthand, I didn’t expect to feel quite so sad.

[Full disclosure: Volvo Canada let me borrow this V60 Cross Country so long as I kept the shiny side up, returned it clean with a full tank of premium fuel, and reviewed it.]

Dying In Designer

It’s been more than eight years since production of the current V60 kicked off, and it looks as well-styled as ever. Maybe even prettier, considering how the German big-three have jumped the shark on styling. Those distinctive hammer-shaped daytime running lights, crisp lines and pronounced haunches all work together fabulously. A grille that’s a normal size is a sight for sore eyes in an era of BMWs that look like Edsels undergoing mitosis, and those waterfall taillights flowing down from the roof like strawberry syrup get me every time. Even with the Cross Country cladding, this is one devilishly handsome car.

Beneath the sharp visage of the V60 Cross Country, you’ll find more practicality than you’d expect. Despite the raked rear window, there’s enough height to the cargo opening to load 26-inch tires standing up on their tread. A handy net on the left side of the cargo area keeps housewarming gifts and other sundries secure, while an optional reversible cargo mat with a rubberized underside flips over to keep the cargo area clean. Fold the 60:40 split rear seats with center through-loading down, and you’ll enjoy nearly six feet of cargo floor length, vastly superior to what most compact luxury crossovers offer. It’s a longer, lower space than said crossovers, but for prams and furniture and whatnot, the extra length matters. It’s different, but oh so sensible.

This theme of different but sensible carries over to some of the controls. Volvo’s insistence on a tiny joystick for power mirror adjustment may look odd, but once you actually use it, this arrangement makes perfect sense. The spindly control can be used with absolute precision entirely eyes-off. There’s no ambiguity when it comes to which direction your finger’s moving the control, all four directions are clear as day. Then there are the power seat controls, which use a toggle hanging off the lumbar adjustment pad to choose whether you’re adjusting the thigh support, the lumbar support, or the bolsters. It’s uncomplicated, easy to find, and simple to use. Oh, and the advanced driver assistance system? That’s as easy as activating cruise control with simple yet extremely legible graphics.

You’d think that the Android Automotive OS-based touchscreen infotainment system with minimal physical buttons would put a huge damper on this but empirically, the same setup in the XC60 is one of the least distracting systems that Swedish publication Vi Bilägare has ever tested in its eight-step test involving turning on the heated seat, lowering the temperature by two degrees, starting the defroster, powering on the radio, setting it to Sweden’s Program 1, resetting the trip computer, dimming the interior lighting to its minimum level, and turning off the center display. Less distracting than Tesla, less distracting than the old Subaru Outback and its real switches for trip reset and temperature control, less distracting than a Kia EV3, less distracting than even a previous-generation Volvo V60 with its flying VCR-remote center stack.

Indeed, the only bit of the infotainment system I didn’t get along with was the wired-only Apple CarPlay, but the optional Bowers & Wilkins sound system more than makes up for it. With 15 speakers and 1,410 nominal watts, it’s just about the gold standard in the entire car industry. The variant of this system in the XC90 and dearly departed V90 is better due to different staging, but this $3,200 option blows pretty much the rest of the industry out of the water. Scintillating clarity, huge yet tight sub-bass extension, a wonderfully wide soundstage, it’s the sort of stereo that will have you driving around all night just to listen to your favorite albums.

Oh, and once you’re done listening to LCD Soundsystem’s entire discography, you’ll emerge from the cockpit fresh as a daisy because the seats here are just about perfect. Firm yet wonderfully supportive, I could feel them fixing my posture in real time. Soft armrests and a highly adjustable tilt-and-telescopic steering column certainly help in establishing a good driving position, and the way the carpet wraps all the way up the center tunnel feels quality. You get loads of headroom and legroom too, and that extends to all but the middle rear seat position. There’s a big center hump back there, but once occupants get their legs around it, they’re treated to exceptional seat comfort too.

Movement

Alright, but what’s the V60 like in between sliding the optional Orrefors crystal gear lever into drive and twisting the ignition knob off? In a word, relaxing. Under the hood sits Volvo’s familiar two-liter turbocharged inline-four. This latest variant, dubbed “B5”, features a 48-volt mild hybrid system with auto stop-start so smooth and unobtrusive, it puts full hybrids to shame. Granted, 247 horsepower and 258 lb.-ft. of torque aren’t monumental figures in the context of a 4,100-pound car, but a flat torque curve and relatively short gearing make the most of it. Besides, the V60 Cross Country isn’t the sort of car you drive in haste. It can certainly overtake once the occasionally languid transmission calibration kicks down, but even though the throttle calibration is a bit eager, the last Volvo wagon is perfectly happy to just cruise along.

Fingertip-light steering adopts a remarkable sense of dead-ahead once at speed, and my word, that brake pedal. It’s like dropping an anchor through the mantle of the Earth, firm and effective yet easy to modulate. As for the ride quality, it’s largely comfortable and composed, although it has a whole-grain quality over sharper impacts. It’s never uncomfortable, but on the optional 20-inch wheels, quick lumps and bumps are more noticeable than in cars riding on newer platforms, manifesting as little murmurs beneath the carpets. A reminder that Volvo’s SPA architecture is more than a decade old.

There Will Be Tears

Still, the thought of the Volvo V60 Cross Country riding off into the sunset is one of unease. It’s the last compact wagon on sale in America, even though it’s lifted and plastic-clad. Once the stock of these is gone, an entire genre of vehicle is gone. Audi’s not bringing the RS5 Avant to America, BMW’s a we’ll-see when it comes to the next M3 Touring, and either way, both of those vehicles occupy an entirely different price echelon from the V60 Cross Country. This thing starts at $58,895 including freight ($63,545 in Canada), and while that’s definitely premium, it’s not outlandish.

I have a bit of a history with Volvos. The very first turbocharged car I ever rode in was a V70 T5, I have friends and family members who’ve owned 240s, and the idea of a 740 Turbo wagon was always appealing. I’ve never owned a Volvo wagon, but now I’m wondering why the hell I haven’t. They scratch an itch of deep pragmatism in a beautiful way, cosseting with sensational seats and robust build quality. They’re the archetype of well-to-do-but-not-a-prick, nice cars for thoughtful people. In this profession, I’ve been lucky enough to drive hundreds of cars. There are some I’d recommend, a smaller number than I personally like, and an even smaller number that I’d actually buy if I were in the market. The Volvo V60 Cross Country is one of those cars. Every mile behind the wheel feels like home, and with that disappearing, the entire motoring landscape is worse off. If you find one of these wagons lingering on a dealer lot near you, you know what to do.

Top graphic image: Thomas Hundal