Forbes
Test Drives
2002 Mini Cooper
Michael Frank

Overview
So much flowery prose has been spilled so far in the automotive press over the new Mini Cooper that we were starting to get skeptical.
And so when the time for a test drive came, we were both pleasantly surprised to find out how capable the car really is and also a bit taken aback by one aspect we think hasn't been well explained: Contrary to what some prognosticators have claimed, this isn't a car that will do battle with VW's New Beetle or Chrysler's PT Cruiser. They aren't even in the same league.
This is a tight, corner-scorching sports sedan. Meanwhile, the pretending competition is just that, poseurs with a soft, touring-car chassis (the Beetle) and lousy, under-juiced engine (the Cruiser).
By contrast the Mini Cooper does everything a sports sedan should do--upshift sharply, steer smartly, corner hard, accelerate quickly--and at an unheard-of base price of $16,850.
We knew the price since BMW announced it in January. (Yes, that's right, BMW, which has owned the Mini brand since 2000.) We also knew that some in the automotive press have trashed the Mini for being gratuitously nostalgic. But, after having driven it, what we didn't know was that the Mini Cooper is in reality a heavily camouflaged BMW 3-Series on a smaller frame that sells for little more than half the dough.

Sorry, but there's just no competition for that kind of deal anywhere else on the planet. Not bad for a vehicle that was originally designed in 1958 to be a cheap family car for an economically depressed Britain.

Sound a bit breathless to you? It is, and the downside to all that sportiness is a ride that we think will catch many buyers off-guard.

After all, about 10,000 of the 20,000 annual Mini Cooper and Cooper S allocation has been pre-sold (more on the latter below), and if any of those folks think they're getting a cute, little soft-riding subcompact à la the Honda Civic or Toyota Echo, they're in for a shock. The Mini Cooper may be cute, but it's also built ready for Sports Car Club of America racing. (It's already been certified for that duty, in fact; regional Mini Cooper racing clubs are bound to start springing up by summer.)

If you're not hot to race, then, will you like this car? How "mini" is it, really? Can you drive it if you're over 6 feet tall? Should you hold out instead for the more potent, supercharged Mini Cooper S for $19,850? Keep on reading.

From The Driver's Seat
Whenever there's a lot of buildup about a car, there's almost a mandatory letdown when time finally comes for a drive. We experienced that with the Mini Cooper. At least at first.
We were heading off from San Francisco when we found the five-speed transmission did not shift as fluidly as a BMW's. (Only the Cooper S will get the proper Getrag-sourced BMW six-speed; the Cooper five-speed comes from less legendary ZF Friedrichshafen AG.) And the rearview mirror, which is cutely oval rather than square, cuts off vital parts of aftward vision.
The combination of oh-no-I-need-second-gear-now and oh-no-is-there-someone-in-my-blind-spot proved a bit disconcerting in city traffic. But as we said, that was at first blush.
As we headed north (inland rather than up the overcrowded Highway 1), picked up speed and grew accustomed to the controls, the Mini became both more delightful and more comfortable.
But first we needed to adjust to the tight pedal box--the space where the clutch, brake and gas live. It's meant to be tight for tricks like racer-oriented heel-toe braking, but even small-footed drivers will find themselves fumbling around a bit with the pedals. As we said, this isn't a Honda. Nor is that kind of thing really a BMW characteristic. We daresay, although many of the Mini's attributes have a German feel, little quirks like the pedal box, the slightly rough road-feel and even the upright driver position and high-mounted steering wheel seem distinctly British.
If we seem shocked by that, it's because BMW doesn't really do quirky. Yet it's refreshingly clear that they listened to the folks at the Oxford, England, plant where the Mini is produced, because to our gratification some real English traits manage to shine through quite brightly.
The next thing to adjust to is the harder ride. If you get the optional run-flat tires (lower-profile 55-series rather than standard 65-series) on the larger 16-inch rims, you'll never worry about getting a flat tire. That's because you can travel 80 miles on a punctured run-flat without deflation. But the penalty is a more tooth-rattling ride, and this was just on pothole-free Northern California roads. In the Northeast or the Midwest this ride may be too punishing for most.
The good news is that while the standard rubber on the stock Minilite wheels is less sporty because that rubber is softer, the cornering is just as grippy as it is on the lower, optional tires without the attendant harshness. And all Mini Coopers, even ones without the run-flat tires, get a standard flat-tire sensor. It works off the ABS system and monitors the rotation of the wheel; if any wheel gets out of balance the sensor warns you that you need to stop and check for a flat.