The crew from Land Rover called it a "bomb hole," a rather curious name for a 30-ft drop straight down into a pool of black water. The polite gentleman at my side (all Land Rover people are polite) told me to pull forward, straighten the wheels, and then drive over the cliff. My first thought was this guy had a death wish or perhaps his afternoon tea had been laced with a potent psychedelic. This was quite possibly the most idiotic thing I would ever do in a car. I figured if I was going to crash, it wouldn't be doing something this stupid and insane. Also, I wouldn't do it in the dark.
"Please sir...up and ovah," he coaxed, "and please don't engage the brakes."
This exercise became more demented by the minute.
I sat there for a few moments pondering the last clip of Quadrophenia, the part where the Vespa goes flying off the white cliffs of Dover. A gentle prod of the throttle and we were heading 90 degrees southward, the remembered cinematic screams of Roger Daltry mixing with my own. Though it was difficult to tell, the Range Rover was translating thousands of messages from the wheels to the drivetrain in an effort to control our mad, lawn dart-like trajectory. Range Rover calls it "hill descent," and it's as close to magic as you will ever see in a passenger vehicle. The sensation was like a roller coaster as it labors up the first drop, but instead of heading up we were going down, which caused everything in the cabin (including our rear passenger) to press forward toward the windshield. And then it happened-we were in the water, or more accurately, underwater. It went totally black, and for a few moments the big SUV teetered nose-first like a man doing a drunken handstand. The rear end finally came to rest and we were off again, slogging through a mud pit better suited to monster trucks.
I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was anyway. How a vehicle this handsome and refined could take such a beating was almost beyond my comprehension. But Land Rover has been doing the same thing for more than 30 years, building hugely capable, gorgeous and pricey multi-terrain vehicles-it's safe to say they've learned a few things along the way.
As if to spite its handsome face, the new Range Rover has capabilities far beyond the average SUV, almost as though it had something to prove. Under those handsome flanks lie a chassis so tough, so rugged, it can handle the weight of three BMW X5s strung end to end. Its adjustable, independent suspension means it can slog through 3 feet of mud with uncanny ease, traverse raging rivers, and, as I learned, survive leaps that would kill ordinary vehicles. It's also got the integrity of a submarine-we were underwater most of the time, where, it seems, the Range Rover is quite happy. And while it's perfectly at home in the mud, the new Range Rover cleans up beautifully, providing a ride on par with the finest luxury sedans. I know, I spent a few days beating on it (just like they told me) and have a new respect for the British icon.
I've avoided the current crop of SUVs as often as possible. I just never had the use for one and found those that do, do not. A driver with a gym bag and Evian bottle doesn't need a 4x4 no matter how cool it looks. Land Rover, however, is part of the ber fraternity of multi-purpose vehicle manufacturers, and Land Rover CEO Bob Dover is hell bent on making the new car "the world's most capable vehicle."
That takes serious cash, and Land Rover has put some 200 million pounds into making Dover's vision a reality.