You’ll Pay for the Rover Pedigree July 2, 2006
Among S.U.V.’s, it is the very British Range Rover that the gentry aspire to, even if it’s essentially a Jeep with an upper-crust accent and better clothes.
FROM cars to life, there’s a pecking order, and no use complaining. Ferrari, Bentley, Benz ? each levies a Pedigree Tax, in varying degrees of stiffness.
Among S.U.V.’s, it is the very British Range Rover that the gentry aspire to, even if it’s essentially a Jeep with an upper-crust accent and better clothes.
Yes, the arrival of the Range Rover Sport makes it hard to justify spending roughly $20,000 more on a truck ? the classic Range Rover ? that doesn’t perform as well. But the market doesn’t seem to care: buyers of top-shelf S.U.V.’s seem grateful for the opportunity to pay more. What else explains sentient beings dropping $100,000-plus on artillery pieces like the Hummer H1, trucks entirely unsuited for civil society?
By that standard, the $93,250 price of my 400-horsepower Range Rover test model doesn’t seem quite so ridiculous for a supercharged, supersplurge truck that comports itself elegantly on road and off. A 305-horse HSE, sans supercharger, starts at $75,750.
Buying the Rover Group was bad for BMW ? the Germans threw away billions ? but good for car lovers, who gained Bavarian revivals of two British classics: the Range Rover in 2003, followed by the Mini Cooper. BMW later scrubbed its hands of Rover, keeping only Mini and dispatching Land Rover to Sir William Ford of Motown. For 2006, the Range Rover received its first modest makeover under Ford.
Changes include a mildly restyled front bumper, grille, headlamps, taillamps and the signature side vents. Extra sound damping helps to quell road noise. New options include adaptive headlamps that swivel on curves and a rear-view camera. The Supercharged model adds striking 20-inch alloy wheels, a mesh grille, higher-grade leather and Brembo front brakes.
The Range Rover has gone all-Anglo under the hood, ditching the prior BMW engine for a pair of Jaguar-based V-8′s. With 420 pound-feet of torque churning through a ZF six-speed automatic transmission ? one of the smoothest and smartest in any S.U.V. ? the 4.2-liter supercharged model pulls strongly and quietly. Third gear is good for 90-plus m.p.h., with gear changes managed through a scepter-like shifter on the console.
In recent years, the Range Rover established itself as the best-handling big S.U.V. Adjustments to the ride and handling this year ? including new air springs, sway bars and software ? improve the already commanding performance. This behemoth’s curb weight can top 5,800 pounds, yet the bulk is disguised with terrific steering and a relatively nimble feel missing in most rivals. Even the new Cadillac Escalade, whose handling has markedly improved, feels ponderous in comparison. (A bit surprisingly, it is the larger, just-arrived Mercedes-Benz GL450 that gives Rover a formidable competitor on the pavement.)
While 2006 may be remembered for high fuel prices, the Rover parties like it’s 1999, downing petrol shots at 13 m.p.g. during my weeklong test. At $3 a gallon, that’s about a buck every four miles, and the manual calls for premium fuel. In a dubious way, the Rover is perfect for family road trips: when it’s time for the youngsters to empty their bladders, it’s time to fill the truck’s.
A typical owner may equate off-roading with the gravel lot at the country club, yet this truck is stuffed with full-time 4×4 hardware ? though not the selectable Terrain Response System in the LR3 and Sport.
I tested a Range Rover near the end of winter. Venturing out after a snowstorm drove home an often-overlooked point: you don’t have to live in Fairbanks to find four-wheel drive useful. While New York City dug out, the Range Rover was in its element, cakewalking through thigh-deep snowdrifts.
The cabin is plush, yet sturdy and masculine, just right for a luxury truck. The handsome instrument panel recalls a stack of indestructible designer cases. Buyers can choose cherry, burr walnut or piano-black wood trims, along with eight color combinations for seats and trim. I prefer the parchment seats with navy piping, though that selection (and the ivory) may require a full-time de-scuffing crew.
The Rover’s thronelike seat position and low beltline remain strong points, offering excellent outward visibility. Well-bolstered chairs have upper backrests that articulate separately for precise shoulder support.
A new touch screen manages a surprisingly strong navigation system, its spoken guidance intoned in a Jeeveslike accent. A Cockney option would be nice: “Turn royt then, eh guv’nor?” The 14-speaker Harman Kardon audio system is 710 watts of aural pleasure. A $2,500 rear-seat entertainment package puts L.C.D. screens behind the front headrests, with a six-disc DVD player.
Many British quirks and phantoms have been exorcised, but not all. The CD changer remains exiled to the glovebox. Heavy front doors resist closing fully on the first try, forcing you to hip-check them shut.
Some switches employ mysterious, Tolkeinesque glyphs instead of plain English. One, emblazoned with a circle and protruding arrow, resembled the gender symbol popular in the ’70s. Figuring it was a secret “men only” button, I eagerly pressed it ? up popped the navigation map.
Yes, other S.U.V.’s cost less. But the Range Rover, like the equally alliterative Rolls-Royce, says you’d rather pay more. Despite flagrant fuel consumption, the pedigree provides a curious Teflon shield ? is it a coat of arms? ? against social critics. Let the Hummer owner suffer abuse; no one flashes rude gestures at an oh-so-proper Range Rover.
- Posted in : Uncategorized
- Author : arnold
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