Chrysler Crossfire
After five months on our fleet, the Crossfire Roadster had become a firm favourite. Few could resist its posing credentials, and as its return to Chrysler came closer, its admirers squeezed in as much time as possible behind the wheel. But then it all went wrong - and while not every problem was attributable to the car itself, the cumulative effect did much to sour the ownership experience.
After five months on our fleet, the Crossfire Roadster had become a firm favourite. Few could resist its posing credentials, and as its return to Chrysler came closer, its admirers squeezed in as much time as possible behind the wheel. But then it all went wrong - and while not every problem was attributable to the car itself, the cumulative effect did much to sour the ownership experience.
Having let the Crossfire keys out of my grasp for a few days, I was peeved to discover that the boot was swimming in water. Had the rubber seals failed in the recent torrential rain? Upon investigation, I discovered a nearly empty 3.0-litre bottle lurking in a dark corner. Whoever had put it there had failed to screw the lid on tightly and it had leaked most of its contents. The carpet dried out, but only after four days with the bootlid open in the office car park. No one ever did claim the bottle!
Driving a convertible in winter is rarely rewarding, and this year was no exception, as the weather provided little opportunity for open-air motoring. The rain also highlighted the squeaky windscreen wipers - a real annoyance. Yet these niggles were nothing compared to the problems ahead. In our first report, we mentioned the Roadster's stereo had an intermittent fault. The radio display would light up, but there was no sound. Little did we know that this was the first of a succession of gremlins which would eventually bring the Crossfire to a halt.
The next sign that all wasn't well was a dashboard warning of external bulb failure - yet the lights appeared to be fine. Then, over Christmas, the battery ran flat when the car remained unused for a few days. After this happened a second time, we called out Chrysler's Privilege Service - although the breakdown organisation didn't impress by keeping us waiting for more than seven hours and then failing to diagnose the fault.
As the Crossfire's behaviour worsened, jump leads and a battery booster pack became essential everyday kit, as the car simply refused to start time and again. We thought there might be a link with the rear spoiler. Usually deployed at 62mph, it now remained permanently extended. Removing the fuse made no difference, though; the only consequence was a loud warning beep at speed.
Then things got even more weird. One evening, with the engine off, I switched on the interior light - and the stereo came to life. The next morning, the battery was unusually full of beans, but the cabin clock had stopped at 5am. And I abandoned any attempt to lower the roof on our farewell photoshoot - the Roadster was having none of it!
We had no chance to book the car into a dealer before its return to Chrysler, but ultimately the firm's technicians traced the problems to a loose connection between the battery and alternator. Despite the breakdowns, tussles with jump leads and lack of roofless cruising, I was gutted to see the Crossfire go. I adore its styling, while the deep boot is surprisingly practical. And although the handling isn't a match for some rivals, the performance still thrills. The fact I still feel this way after the hassles says a lot for the Roadster's appeal - although some will probably think it's me who has the loose wire!