IT was only a few hours after picking up a Land Rover Defender that I finally realised the proper way to drive it.
You wouldn’t have guessed it, but despite the massive size of the Defender, there is really not much space for the driver, and it is quite difficult to get a comfortable position from which to steer it.
My arm kept bumping into the window pane. A closer inspection of the dashboard layout finally revealed the source of my problem.
Drawing an imaginary straight line from the centre of the steering wheel to my chest, it dawned on me that the line fell quite a distance to the right of my sternum.
Many cars have steering wheels that are not aligned perfectly centre to the driver, but on the Defender, the distance was larger than most. The discrepancy is so huge in fact that the territorial discrepancies between nations over boundaries in the South China Sea sprang to mind.
So yes, it was only after a while did I realise that the proper way to drive a Land Rover Defender was to roll down the window and put your arm over the door sill, like countless generations of Land Rover drivers have done since time immemorial.
This way, there is plenty of room.
With your arm outside the window you could shout “tally ho” or “good day old chap” or something quintessentially British at passers-by, but that might be overdoing it.
But that wasn’t the start of my adventure with the Defender. I’m digressing. Let’s start from the beginning.
My astonishing encounter with the Land Rover began a few hours earlier.
Rushing from Putrajaya where I had just met the prime minister (it sounded important, but I was just covering the launch of the new Perdana), I arrived at the Land Rover showroom near the Federal Highway.
It was there that a well-dressed, Land Rover representative handed me the keys to the Defender, and politely told me that “no – I couldn’t take the Defender into the deep forests of the hinterland, although a little off-road was ok”.
The first challenge to driving the Defender is how to mount it. It is kind of like learning to learn to ride a horse.
It took me a few seconds to actually figure out the way to mount the Defender. Yes, mount. Because you don’t get in the Defender. It’s so tall that you “mount” it. After some fancy footwork, I finally managed to hoist myself into the cramped driving compartment of the Defender.
Yes, it is cramped by modern standards. You sit very close to the steering wheel, with the foot controls — the clutch, accelerator pedal and brakes pretty much almost directly under you. I am about 180cm tall and my left leg rested uncomfortably on the transmission tunnel.
Once the PR guy had left me to my own devices, the first order of business was to figure out how to manhandle the beast out of the parking space.
Saying that the clutch on the Defender is heavy is putting it lightly. This thing feels like it’s loaded with springs that belong on a Soviet MZKT-79221 heavy truck, the type of truck that the Russians used to transport Topol-M missiles.
The worst part of it was those final few centimetres just before the clutch engages, when the springs feel like they just want to pop out and take your knee cap along with them. I juddered and shook the Defender out onto the Federal Highway and, lo and behold, I am met with the sight of a massive traffic crawl.
I was being thrown in the deep end of the pool here.
It took massive courage and fortitude on my part to drive the 10km or so from the Land Rover showroom to my office in Bangsar. Each engagement of the clutch was an adventure in itself. One time, the Defender lurched forward and I nearly screamed like a little girl.
No wonder this vehicle was associated with words like “adventure”.
The Defender towers over most vehicles on the Federal Highway. People look up at you with a look of awe and amazement across their faces as this towering behemoth of aluminium and glass rolls on its massive 16 inch wheels shod with 235/85 Continental Crosscontact tyres beside them.
After what felt like the longest time, the arduous journey finally ended, and I arrived at my office. But my odyssey was not yet over. As I pulled into the parking lot, to my surprise and consternation, it suddenly dawned on me that the Defender had such a wide turning circle that it wouldn’t take the tight first turn into the elevated parking lot without reversing (The dog-leg gearbox didn’t help). With a turning circle of 7.18 metres, the Land Rover isn’t exactly a vehicle to turn as say — a Perodua Myvi. Think KD Jebat Lekiu-class frigate instead.
Having managed to shoehorn the Landy into an average-sized parking lot, I then dismounted from the towering heights of the Defender only to realise that my legs had turned to Jell-O, after their encounter with the clutch springs.
I am not exaggerating here. I took a few steps, and my legs started quivering uncontrollably.
At this point, I have a confession to make. As a fair journalist, I feel obliged to disclose to the reader lest I be accused of having an impartial affinity to the Land Rover Defender, and thus compromising my objectivity.
For a few years, like many men my age I have often toyed with the idea of buying a Land Rover.
I had impartiality for the Series IIa with a canvas top, although the Defender was also on the list.
In fact, many years ago, when I just started as a journalist, I would spend time trawling mudah.my (in my free time of course, dear editors) looking for the perfect Landy to fulfil my Daktari dreams.
But of course at that time I had never actually driven one.
I shared this dream with my best friend, and collegemate who is also my age.
Unfortunately for Sime Darby Auto Connexion Land Rover, as a middle-manager with a government-linked company, he too still did not have the economic fortitude to purchase this new Defender, priced at RM198,000 for the Final Edition Eclipse (the one I was driving) and RM188,000 for the Final Edition Tanger.
We had always dreamed of getting a used Land Rover — a decommissioned Malaysian government Defender 110 with a 300 Tdi engine perhaps.
Nevertheless, with our nostalgic love affair with the Landy, I guess we were reasonably close to the demographics that Land Rover was targeting at, and I decided to invite him along for a trip to Cameron Highlands to test out the Defender, you know — as an experiment.
So on a glorious Ramadan day, with the sun shining high in the horizon, we embarked on our journey.
We rolled out onto the Plus Highway in the general direction north, whistling the Camel Trophy jingle from the TV ads of the 80s.
I planted the throttle deep into the the Landy’s lush carpets, the 2.2 L Ford Duratorq turbodiesel I4 roared deeply, the turbo whistled and we lurched forward at a pretty quick pace. Not Ford Ranger fast, but pretty ok.
The Duratorq churns out 121bhp at 3,500 RPM. More importantly, it generates 360Nm of torque at 2000rpm. In the lower gears, and at lower RPM ranges, the Land Rover can keep up easily with most modern traffic.
Driving it, however, you quickly realise that the suspension is not exactly the best setup for long, high speed highway travel. Quick steering and lane changes at high speed are not something to be taken lightly in the tall Land Rover. The Landy also needed frequent steering inputs to keep it in lane, which could be rather tiring.
While driving at speed, it is also worth noting that despite its phenomenal price tag, the Landy doesn’t have much in term of safety, having not even a single airbag.
Cruising at 110kph however, was perfectly fine. At this speed it was also quite amazing how frugal the big Landy was.
My friend and I talked about Land Rovers, politics and other manly stuff. Half-way through the conversation, we suddenly fell silent.
“Bro, this thing is loud. I can hardly hear what you’re saying, “ said my friend.
“What is that you’re saying?,” I replied at almost a shout as I lowered the blower a notch.
“I’m getting tired talking, you know what with the heat and the fasting and all,” he said.
“Yeah, me, too, man,” I said.
It suddenly dawned on me that the cabin of the Defender was rather loud on the highway.
A couple of minutes later, we also realised that we weren’t making that much progress north.
I broached the subject: “It’s gonna take a long time to reach Cameron Highlands, you know, at this rate.”
“Yeah man, hey, why not drive to Frasiers Hill instead?,” said my buddy.
I a g r e e d enthusias t ica l ly. That would cut a few hundred ki lometres off the journey, to our collective relief.
So we went to Frasier’s Hill and had a great adventure. We drove into quaint Kuala Kubu Baru town and bought delicious local fare at the ‘pasar Ramadan’. We drove deep into an Orang Asli settlement on the way up Frasier, where a pristine stream trickled through the forest. We tried to picnic there for ‘buka puasa’, but were chased off by dogs. We headed to Chiling waterfalls to break fast there, only to discover that it was closed to visitors. We ended up breaking fast in the bed of the Landy, half way up Frasier’s, with the sounds of the forest accompanying us as the last rays of the sun finally disappeared.
And we had a great time.
Then when the journey was over, I asked my buddy after having actually travelled in one, would he actually buy it? He fell silent. He said he’d probably get a Hilux instead.
When you first get into the Land Rover, despite the modern facelift, you are still driving what is basically a 68-year old design.
The Defender is a time machine.
When you step into it, despite the modern facelift, you are transported back in time to an age when vehicles were more basic.
The Land Rover transported my father and his soldier friends when he was an officer in the army, during the Confrontation of the 1960s.
This same Land Rover was used by Public Works Department to transport engineers that built highways and roads that connected this country in the days after Merdeka.
Almost all our government agencies once used Land Rovers. This country was built on the back of Land Rovers.
In Malaysia, and in many places in the world, especially in the countries of the Commonwealth, the Land Rover Defender is an icon. It is a throwback to Britain and its glorious Imperial past, a mechanical instrument of Britain’s colonism. The Defender is not just a car, it is part of history. Not just of Britain — but also that of our own country.
It is one of those rare instances where a marketing gimmick is actually the truth.
In fact, whatever I said in the first part of this article probably doesn’t matter.
After almost seven decades, Land Rover ceased production of the Defender at Solihull, United Kingdom earlier this year, where the original Land Rover Series had been built since June 1948.
Last time we checked there were about 80 units left in their inventory in Malaysia. If you are still in love with the Defender, and have the means, maybe you should give them a visit, and travel back in time.