Review: Polaris Slingshot: Three Wheels, One Big Smile

The Polaris Slingshot makes its way across the Roberto Clemente Bridge on the North Shore.
(Photo by Andrew Rush)
Appeared on the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette's multiple news platforms in August 2017 . The Post-Gazette's site is paywall activated and imposes a limit of free stories per month. This is the story as published. It can also be found on the Post-Gazette's site here.
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BY ANTHONY CONROY
Behind the wheel of the Polaris Slingshot, a couple of things become obvious.
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First, it's not a motorcycle. Second, it’s not a car. Not really. And despite what many have suggested, it’s definitely not the Batmobile.
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Technically speaking, it’s an autocycle, but it's hard to categorize something when it is the category. Then again, after letting out the clutch, stepping on the gas, and hearing the mechanical growl and whirl of the engine (front) and belt drive (rear), you realize something else: Why try?
Category, schmategory.
Since practicality isn't the point of a 1,700-pound, 173-horsepower, two-seat, three-wheeled, reverse trike motorcycle thingie, anything beyond how much fun it is to drive almost seems parenthetical.
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I recently got my hands on a 2017 SLR — the top model in the Minnesota-based company’s Slingshot lineup. The SLR starts around $28,499, which may seem like a lot for a recreational vehicle. But for the price of a well-loaded SUV, Slingshot drivers receive the same love and attention as drivers of six-figure sports cars.
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That “it” factor is what makes the Slingshot so special.
In my two-week stint with the Slingshot, people shouted from cars, school buses, sidewalks, apartment windows and even a manhole. "Cool,” “sweet,” "awesome" and “wicked” were heard. And this being Pittsburgh, I sometimes got the finger. Except in the Slingshot, it was always a thumb’s up.
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Rides were happily granted to family members, friends, strangers and even stranger co-workers.
The SLR’s power is generated by General Motors' Ecotec LE5 engine, an inline-four, 2.4-liter powerplant that can usually be found in the Chevrolet Cobalt SS and Malibu, Pontiac G5 and others. While those cars aren’t known to set hearts aflutter, the same engine in a vehicle with half their weight makes things, well, a little more interesting.
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Power is handled by a smooth-shifting, five-speed manual gearbox suited more for low-end growl than top-end shriek. Drivers who enjoy engine acoustics will appreciate the throaty exhaust on downshifts. As the Slingshot reaches for higher numbers on the speedometer, the reward is lessened somewhat by wind noise. Conversations at speeds higher than 55 mph are next to impossible. Long-distance riders may want to invest in an intercom system.
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When in reverse, a video screen in the center console doubles as a rear-view camera, which is appreciated, as trying to parallel park the Slingshot is not for newbies.
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My one real gripe is that the center console is too wide near the steering wheel — pinning one’s knee against a hard plastic edge — and down at the floorboard where it flares out and encroaches on the driver's feet.
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A second gripe is that the seatbelts are not height adjustable. The result, quite literally, was a pain in my neck.
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But all is forgiven once the Slingshot is pushed into that first corner, where its true strength becomes evident. It's made to carve corners and it does so remarkably well, despite having a lightweight rear end with only one — albeit a massive, 305-series — tire. Just keep the traction and stability control turned on. Unless, that is, you're trying to impress the ladies by doing burnouts at the local pizzeria. (Sorry, Fiori's.)
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While cornering at highway speeds, the Slingshot sometimes felt a bit squirmy, as hitting bumps in mid-corner made the rear end feel like it was skipping a beat. Again, traction control is your friend. Buffeting was also an issue as the windscreen aimed air directly at my forehead. Shorter riders may find this issue moot.
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Polaris is mum on the Slingshot’s top speed. In my own unofficial test — sanctioned neither by the PG nor, to his chagrin, my father — the SLR topped out around 109 mph on an empty, unnamed highway at night.
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No matter. Keeping it low and kinda slow is where the Polaris shines brightest. Any faster would only mute the adulation.