FEW COMPETITORS CAN MATCH NOT-SO-MINI COUNTRYMAN
Upscale compact and punchy crossover comes with premium package of upgrades
Ever see a penguin walk around? Their tall bodies wobble around precariously on top of stubby legs as they waddle slowly from place to place.
This is a lot like how an older Land Rover goes down the road; they’re slower than your average Toyota Camry, they lean precariously on off-ramps, and they’re hardly smooth over expansion joints and potholes.
But the penguin is transformed when it hops into the water; suddenly that awkward form becomes a bullet-shaped projectile, agile and fast. And when the Land Rover’s tires leave the pavement it too comes into its element.
The first Land Rover was built 70 years ago, in 1948, out of parts left lying around after the Second World War. From its humble beginnings, the brand went on to make a name for itself crossing the searing deserts of Africa, the dense jungles of South America, and the freezing Arctic.
The basic Land Rover evolved into the Defender, which was in production until 2016, with many little tweaks and updates throughout its life. Along the way, it earned a strong following of enthusiasts who rove out into the wilds for fun. The Land Rover Adventure Association of Ontario is an organization of such enthusiasts, and we crashed one of their off-road weekend trips near Parry Sound to see what these trucks are all about.
I joined the three-hour convoy from Toronto in a brand-new 2018 Range Rover Td6.
With satellite radio, heated and cooled seats, a whisper-quiet exhaust and no fewer than three LCD screens on the dashboard, it represents the ultimate evolution of these trusty trucks.
That said, even though it has a height-adjustable air suspension and a capable terrain response system, its low-profile 21-inch wheels, street-focused tires and very, very shiny black paint were all reasons not to take it off road. So instead, I would be hopping from passenger seat to passenger seat in our ninestrong convoy of Land Rovers.
The oldest car of the group happened to have the youngest co-driver. Clive Shepherd and his 18-month-old chocolate lab, Maggie, were bouncing around in a 1963 Land Rover Series 2A all weekend. After riding in the leather-lined Range Rover, this Landy was a bit of a shock.
It has no heater, no roll-up windows and, with the exception of the vinyl seats, the entire interior is bare, painted aluminum.
It’s fitted with a 2.25-litre diesel engine from the factory, and was originally intended to bridge the gap between a tractor and a truck. It even has a hand-throttle in the cab that you can use to set the engine rpm and a power takeoff (PTO) on the front of the engine.
These two features made the Series 2A a handy farm implement, as you could hook the PTO to a thresher or wood chipper, set the engine at the desired rpm, and use it as something of a mobile power unit.
Unlike the newer Land Rovers on this trip, Shepherd’s was equipped with leaf-spring suspension front and rear, and the ride off-road is absolutely punishing.
So much so that Shepherd uses the hand throttle because the bouncing makes it impossible to keep a steady foot on the gas. On some particularly rough portions, my head actually hit the ceiling.
I was telling Shepherd how impressed I was with the car’s capabilities when he asked if I wanted to drive. I refused at first, due to my zero off-road driving experience. But eventually he convinced me. Apparently, all you really had to do was select first gear and low range, set the hand throttle, and drive.
So that’s how I found myself bouncing along, gripping the thin, ancient steering wheel, driving into and over rocks in an old Land Rover. After one water crossing, there was a slight downhill grade and the convoy had stopped ahead of us. I clutched in and went for the brakes, but there weren’t any. Then I remembered the old-style, single-shoe drum brakes in an old Land Rover don’t really work that well after you get them wet.
My stomach backflipped as the pedal went straight to the floor
When there’s 228 horsepower to squeeze out in a package that tips the scales at a relatively light (for a crossover) 1,657 kilograms, there’s much fun to be had.
and the incline carried us straight into the back of a nice, newer Defender 110. I froze, jaws clenched, as the driver of the 110 got out — casually eating an apple — and just looked at the new scuffs on his truck. Then Shepherd pulled the fender (mostly) straight with his bare hands.
Unless they were being extremely polite, neither party seemed to mind that much. Luckily, the angle of the hill drove the Series into the spare tire of the truck ahead of us and the damage on Shepherd’s truck was limited to one fender. Still, that was enough driving for me. After spending time banging around in the trusty Series 2A, I opened the door to Kevin Newell’s 2010 Defender 110. I climbed into the soft, custom leather heated seats and we set off for the remainder of the adventure.
He had meticulously modified this four-door model to make it both more capable off road and more livable in the city. “It’s the last car I’ll ever buy,” he says.