Polaris Ranger XP 1000
Charlie Flindt is soon roaring around the farm on this smart and powerful UTV, but the height of the cargo deck does not meet with universal approval
IT has become a post-harvest ritual: a long drive round the boundary of the farm, as an act of ‘closure’. We joke that it’s a last-minute check for bits of crop that have escaped the combine, but many years ago there was a two-acre corner that was forgotten.
The Polaris Ranger XP 1000 arrived just in time for this job and on the first misty morning of August (an unusually early finish this year, of course), I settled down in the cab, preparing for the solemn ceremony. And a smart cab my test machine had, too. Proper doors and windows, front and rear screen. All very civilised, of course, but somehow losing the wind-in-your-hair concept that makes hooning round the fields in a UTV such fun.
Negotiating the Ranger out of the barn was a bit of a struggle. It’s wide – far wider than the farm’s Kubota, and the centrifugal clutch is ‘off’ or noisily and suddenly ‘on’. But I eventually backed it, clanking and roaring, out of the barn and off we went. Off we went – very slowly. “This is odd,” I thought. “I’ve got my foot to the floor and we’re wheezing along at 15kph – and the speedo appears to be calibrated for 140kph.” I had pompously turned down the offer of a ‘how to drive it’ briefing from Polaris, but after a couple of fields something told me that I should have been less pompous. I U-turned and headed (slowly) for the internet.
It’s a safety feature, apparently. The Ranger is speed limited until you’ve clicked in your safety belt. And then? I soon found out, flying across smooth, dry stubbles at silly speeds. It’s a tad ironic that dangerous speeds can only be reached by fitting your safety belt. Mind you, so is the fitting of laser-bright LED day running lights to a camouflaged vehicle.
The Ranger does go well, though. It has very long travel suspension (although the cargo area is high as a result), big wheels and supportive seats, and the little petrol engine spins manically. No individual gears, of course – all CVT. There are lots of four-wheel drive and diff-lock options, but none needed this August – disappointingly. I flung open the front window for a face full of late-summer air, just in time for a full-blooded waft of dead badger. Funny how long that takes to clear the nostrils.
“My turn,” said Head Keeper once I got home. And off she went with three flatcoats and a Malinois (sounds like Hugh Grant’s latest) and some water drums. Five minutes later, the canine pack was being returned, their faces a picture of bewilderment. Unfortunately, the cargo deck was too high for them to jump into, and there was no access via the cab. And once HK had done her dog-free water run for the birds, she wasn’t all that happy. “My shoulders don’t work like they used to. I can’t lift 20 litres that high.”
I asked if she’d found any uncut corn on her travels. “Just that bit behind New Pond.” We agreed we’d call it a game strip, if anyone asks.
It’s a tad ironic that dangerous speeds can only be reached by fitting your safety belt