Flick the big V

ALTERNATIVE ENGINE CHOICE BROUGHT TO THE FOUR

In Australia there is the Defender 90 and 110 denoting short and long wheelbases. In either wheelbase you can have a regular one with a back seat, or get the delightful Hard Top which turns your Defender, somewhat randomly, into a two-seat commercial ‘van’. Land Rover says it harks back to the original Defender Hard Top from the 1950s. As for engines, within the range there is the turbo petrol 2.0-litre of our test car, 3.0-litre petrol and diesel inline sixes and, temptingly, JLR’s sublime supercharged 5.0-litre petrol V8. Sign us up for a V8 Defender 90 we reckon – remember the Bowler Wildcat? into, the Defender is like sitting on a bar stool in a large cube. It drives with a quirky square footprint, its short wheelbase lending it a surprising sportiness. The coil set-up of our tester feels ‘expensive’ with traceable Range Rover DNA, plenty comfortable around town. You could be fooled, too, that this petrol 2.0-litre is a diesel. The starter motor sounds like that from a diesel; there’s a subdued clatter at idle, like a diesel. There’s diesel-like torque. If nobody told you, you’d be trying to jam the diesel nozzle into the filler... only if you failed to spot from the driver’s seat the 6750rpm redline. You might find yourself chasing it often as the Defender is surprisingly fun on a twisty bitumen road. Whereas Toyota, Mercedes and Jeep have not dared mess with the ladder chassis architectures of their 70 Series, Gelandewagen and Wrangler, the Defender’s switch to a monocoque and independent suspension has, predictably, had a transformative effect on its handling. Squat, roll and dive are pronounced, but never loose or uncontrolled, and nursing the heavy, under-tyred Defender through its long suspension arcs as you fang up a twisty road, is a surprising joy. There’s more than a bit of good Jaguar handling nous here, and it certainly feels like a car, not a truck or SUV. It’s also surprisingly fast. On the famed, serpentine Black Spur Road we must take to reach our pine plantation for photography, the Defender wasn’t a total obstruction to snapper Brook trailing behind in a new, Audi RS6 support vehicle (that’s how we roll at Wheels). In fact, while its turbo four-pot does work hard for it, the Defender 90’s 0-100km/h claim of 7.1sec makes this two-tonne SUV feel as eager as some hot hatches. For all its supposed off-road chops, the Defender almost fits the textbook definition of a sports car, too: head-turning styling, two doors, a big sunroof and a tiny boot. There’s a bit of fake engine noise you’d want to switch off, but then you wouldn’t hear much at all. The renowned eight-speed ZF torque-converter auto is also a mastery of response and refinement. While there’s only Eco, Comfort and four off-road modes, at all times it’s silky smooth. There aren’t any shift paddles but the transmission lever can be bumped into manual mode and, pleasingly, it’s push for down gears, pull for up. The Sport transmission mode acts as something of a proto-Sport mode overall. While the extent of our off-piste proselytising was ploughing through deep puddles that smelt as if numerous animals had disappeared into them, we will have to leave the hardcore stuff and verdict to our mates at 4x4 Australia. Reports from off the beaten track have been largely positive, praising the Terrain Response 2 system that automatically selects drive modes as grip and conditions demand. There’s obviously low-range and diff locks; and poke your head under the rear guard and the suspension arms are as thick as human arms themselves. The air suspension, which can be raised at the push of a button, is also commended for off-roading – even if with a hint of suspicion given you probably couldn’t fix it without a laptop and a degree in computer science, or at the very least a man in a helicopter. As we near the end of our time with the Defender 90, it’s hard to figure out what to think of it. Even though there’s a ‘new Defender’, in a way the Defender hasn’t been replaced, it’s been discontinued, and there is a sense of loss. The old one, too, was unusually classless in a way few cars ever have been. Over in Old Blighty, a Yorkshire shepherd could load a Defender full of hay and feasibly motor past the estate of the local vicar, himself out in his own Defender. If they ever found themselves on either side of a wire fence, despite being from different worlds, they’d have something to talk about. As is widely known, the Queen has a Defender at Balmoral; Calvin Klein owned one and even Paul McCartney has one in the garage. His 1973 single ‘Helen Wheels’, in fact, was a doting ballad to his vaunted Land Rover (even if it was a play on “hell on wheels”). Yet for so many others, a Defender is simply something of a wheelbarrow with seatbelts. The new Defender, inevitably, feels more for the high end of town. We can’t imagine many old Defender owners replacing it with the new one. If anything, they’re more likely to cling on to the Defender they’ve already got; or buy something like a LandCruiser 70 Series. If you had to pick between either of those and a new Defender to schlep about town, however, it’s a total no brainer, as the new model excels as a luxury SUV. One with head-turning styling and a funky rustic safari vibe. And perhaps Land Rover is craftier than we think, as many owners now have the cash to own all three. Perhaps all in a shade of bright pink, with black flames – not to give anybody any ideas.