By Christopher A. Sawyer
The Virtual Driver

(June 22, 2015) Lincoln’s Navigator isn’t the only large SUV at the end of its useful life. Audi’s Methuselah-like Q7 shares its underpinnings with the VW Touareg and Porsche Cayenne, and has been around since the 2006 model year (2007 in North America). There have been a steady stream of updates over its 10-year life, and a major facelift in 2009. However, the current Q7, which is soon to be replaced by the second generation, is showing its age.

Painted Glacier White Metallic and kitted out with the Sport Style Plus package, the Q7 parked on the driveway looks pre-adolescently silly in a way only German vehicles can.

At once both self-conscious and brash, the Q7’s eye-searingly At once both self-conscious and braswhite paint doesn’t just glint in the noonday sun, it burns the retinas. This is offset by the black roof rails, unique black-trimmed front and rear fascias, and triple five-spoke (look at the photos) wheels in gloss black. All of which is wrapped in a body kit  from Audi’s berserk Q7 V12 TDI that was limited by the factory to 490 hp and 740 lb.-ft. of torque.

It is like a giant advertisement for Kodak T-MAX or TRI-X black-and-white film in an era of digital color.

My initial driving impressions were no better. The Q7 felt big, heavy and lumbering; things not helped by those stylish wheels and monstrous tires. Under the hood, the 3.0-liter turbocharged diesel V6 measures just three liters, but produces 240 horsepower and — at 1,750 rpm — 406 lb.-ft. of torque. It mates to an eight-speed automatic, and drives all four wheels. Unlike its late V12 brother, it can’t pull down the neighbor’s house without breaking a sweat, but it sure could demolish the garage and addition — all while returning 19 city/28 highway/22 combined.

Given time, however, the Q7 Prestige (a $12,000 option) with Sport Style Plus ($5,800) and S-line package ($1,500) begins to grow on you. I was able to grab it by the scruff of the neck and rocket to 60 mph from a dead stop in an estimated 7.7 seconds, or treat it more gingerly and bust through the EPA highway rating like an offensive lineman on a broken field play.

With time, the Q7 shrinks, feeling less oblique and more direct. The sumptuous interior reflects the quality kudos Audi has so richly earned, but the lack of an owner’s manual to consult meant I couldn’t discover how to fold forward the second row seat so that entry to the (tiny) third row could be had in a way other than crawling over the lowered seat back of the second. Then again, it’s not a particular hospitable place and, therefore, a place to which you should banish rowdy children, braggarts and social outcasts.

Despite the stellar fuel economy and excellent fit-and-finish, there’s only one reason anyone ever would buy an Audi Q7 so optioned: attention. Like the Olympian formerly known as Bruce Jenner, a Q7 so-equipped is anything but subtle. It demands attention, and gets it — in Diane Sawyer primetime.

People point, stare, and reel at the bottom line; an eye-watering $73,675 with the $925 destination charge. Sure, they marvel at the fuel economy, the in-vehicle Wi-Fi system that can handle up to eight devices, the Google Earth mapping, and those massive summer tires.

But you get the feeling that, once you have driven away, they’re talking behind your back, discussing how gauche it all is, and wondering when you became an attention hog.

The Virtual Driver