This sporty station wagon beats any SUV, hands down

It struck me this week, as I pondered Audi’s riotous RS6 station wagon and the many ways in which I love it, that perhaps the reason I hate all SUVs is that – unlike me – they are simply too tall.

Stephen Corby

4 min read

12:00AMJune 22, 2024.

Updated 5:27AMJune 25, 2024

The Weekend Australian Magazine

Audi’s riotous RS6 station wagon. Picture: Supplied

Like many men of exactly average height, I can be a bit sensitive, even defensive, about relative tallness.

I am a notionally perfect, or at least nationally normal 175.6cm tall, which means I would stand well over six feet if I borrowed Tom Cruise’s shoes. While this also makes me average in the US and UK, it means I am about 4cm taller than the average Japanese man, which makes me deliriously happy when I visit that country, and causes me to giggle out loud when I ride in its hotel lifts, or wonderful trains, looking down on people’s heads.

One example of my weirdness is that I have never been able to have a relationship with a woman who’s taller than me. Fortunately, the average Australian woman is 161.8cm, but I was a late bloomer and thus my teenage years were even more awkward than most as I had to flee, on my tiny little legs, from the many statuesque women who desired me.

I bring this up not as a form of group therapy but because it struck me this week, as I pondered Audi’s riotous RS6 station wagon and the many ways in which I love it, that perhaps the reason I hate all SUVs is that they are simply too tall. Perhaps I can only bond with a vehicle that I look down upon, or can at least rest my chin on the roof of.

A peek inside Audi’s RS6 station wagon. Picture: Supplied

There are other, more sensible reasons to prefer a storming station wagon to any SUV, and truly I would have this Audi over its distant cousin, the Lamborghini Urus (the two share the same 4.0-litre, twin-turbo V8), which looks hideous but is genuinely thrilling to drive, or even Ferrari’s impressive Purosangue.

The clear, scientific benefit of a station wagon (or Avant, as Audi calls the RS6) is that it has a far lower centre of gravity – and that means better handling, less body roll and, compared to any SUV, less mass.

Nitpickers can tell me all they like about how you get more space in something like an Audi RS Q8 (which is also cheaper, at $223,900), but I’d invite anyone to drive the two back to back and not come away wanting the RS6. Personally, I want one very much, because I think it might be the perfect family car for me, if it weren’t for the not so small issue of its $251,000 price tag.

The clear, scientific benefit of a station wagon (or Avant, as Audi calls the RS6) is that it has a far lower centre of gravity. Picture: Supplied

No vehicle that can accommodate my wife and two children gets my butt as close to the road as I’d like it, but the RS6 does feel like it’s hugging the ground, particularly when you hurl it at some bends, at which point the advantages of its shape, and some impressive suspension engineering, become very clear. This thing sits super flat, no matter how hard you attack corners, and provides a level of sharp steering feedback, through its fat Alcantara wheel, that’s unusually wonderful for an Audi.

This station wagon is even lovelier inside. Picture: Supplied

While there’s plentiful room in the back for all my needs, my wants and desires are taken care of by the impressive engine under the bonnet – the most powerful V8 Audi has ever built – which, in this latest Performance version, offers 463kW and 850Nm, making it 0.2 of a second faster to 100km/h than the previous RS6, at just 3.4 seconds. Unfortunately, that’s the kind of pace my family doesn’t enjoy nearly as much as I do, so actually owning one of these might be a problem.

The RS6 has always pulled off the impressive feat of making a station wagon look hulkingly sexy, which is not far off making a bread knife look like a laser. But this one is even lovelier inside, particularly if you go for the optional RS Design Package Blue ($5,200) with its blue-tinted trim made of carbon-fibre weave. It made me cluck with both visual and tactile joy, and, cruelly, this the exact colour combination I would buy in some ideal world.

The Performance version also has reduced sound deadening in the engine bay and load area, so that you can more clearly hear, and feel, the glorious noises its V8 makes.

Drive around in any of the more sane modes and it burbles and purrs with the kind of mildly frightening intensity I imagine you’d experience while lying next to a sleeping lion.

Press the RS button on the steering wheel, however, and engage its manual-shifting mode, and the V8 acts like it has woken up in a filthy mood, barking, shouting and occasionally exploding on downshifts. It’s magnificent, and makes me very sad indeed about the approaching and inevitable end date of all things with eight cylinders.

The most striking impression overall, however, is that the RS6 is just so much more potent and exciting and supercar-like in its ability to deliver visceral thrills, and violent volume, than should be possible in a vehicle that’s so practical.

I genuinely find myself wanting one to an annoying degree. This might well be the last Audi Avant of its kind, of course, but if it is, that just means you should buy one immediately.