Why everybody (still) loves a Land Rover

"OFF-ROADERS are stupid and pointless," a friend suggested as we shot along the M6 somewhere near Stafford a fortnight ago. "You just don't need them."

All you need in an everyday car, he reckoned, is something cheap, comfortable, easy to look after and equipped with a healthy bit of oomph. Something, he reckoned, that's a lot like his turbodiesel Citroen Xsara. Anything with four wheel drive or knobbly tyres is just unecessary and expensive.

Seeing said mate utilise this argument - and win - hurt because I've always had a soft spot for 4x4s, and I don't mean the blinged-up, over-imposing "lifestyle" efforts from BMW and Audi either. I mean the off-roaders of the old school, the Jeeps, Isuzus and Shoguns with their unpretentious styling and obligatory Ifor Williams trailers. I especially like Land Rovers, particularly the proper ones which look like they've been styled on an Etch-a-Sketch. But having a soft spot wasn't winning an argument in the mildest winter we've seen in years.

Lukily, I found the answer I was looking for last weekend, when I ventured beyond my usual stomping ground into a place best known as The Countryside. There, there are hills and rivers and windy little lanes made muddy by the near-constant flow of tractors among them. Out there almost every house has a proper off-roader parked outside it, and when it suddenly started snowing I realised why.

After just a few hours The Countryside was no longer green and pleasant; it was like being trapped inside a Christmas card, only with more BBC Look North crews telling you off over the airwaves because you forgot to pack Ray Mears and a shovel into the boot. Naturally, I'd forgotten to bother with either.


With seven inches of the slippery white stuff to tackle my trusty old Rover did alright but I still wished it'd had the word "Land" in front of its name. Certainly, any Land Rover would have been better than the 11-reg SEAT Leon half a dozen of us had to push out of trouble, or the MINI Cooper which struggled to get over a humpback bridge without spinning its wheels, or the BMW 1-Series at the side of the A591 next to a driver who'd just given up trying.

On this cold, slippery, unforgiving day in The Countryside, nobody wanted the Porsches or BMWs the tourists had brought into the village the night before. But absolutely everybody wanted the 25-year-old Range Rover which was darting around the village completely unaffected. Like the local council's rather scabbier Defenders it was untroubled by the conditions, but it also exuded class in a way a brand-new X5 doesn't.

So off-roaders - proper ones at least - aren't stupid and pointless. Just ask anyone who lives in The Countryside.

RIP Cars of the Stars

I PITY the fool who didn't check out one of the north west's gems for car enthusiasts before it closed. Cars of The Stars, home of the A-Team van, is no more.

Not following? Cars of The Stars, hidden away in a quiet street in Keswick, was exactly what it said on the tin; a museum stuffed full not just with any old motors, but ones synonymous with the TV shows and films they're famed for appearing in. Weirdly, it was the only place in the world you could check out Knightrider and FAB 1 at the same time.

It was so successful that owner Peter Nelson, the former dentist who built up the eclectic collection pretty much from scratch, actually had to open a second museum on the other side of town just to house his cars from the Bond films. I said in this column last year that it was brilliant and you should all go, but you can't because when I went up last weekend I was greeted with a sign saying it had shut and all the cars were being moved to Florida. Whether you're into cars, celebrities or just Cumbrian tourist attractions, it's a sad day when Cars of The Stars closes.

I loved it because it was a museum with the personal touch; I will, for instance, never forget being shown around Mr Bean's Mini by Peter himself, who clocked me and my friends taking an interest in the only car I've ever seen being driven sucessfully via a sofa tied to the roof. It was, if you were up in that part of the world in the Nineties or Noughties, a place you wouldn't want to miss on a rainy day. Holiday visits to Cars of the Stars will be forever etched into my childhood.

What's more, I'm not even sure if Florida will particularly ‘get' what is still a collection with a peculiarly British twist. The Yanks would, for instance, love the Delorean from Back to the Future, but are they going to understand Del Boy's three-wheeled van?

There are, of course, lots of other utterly brilliant museums across the noth west which are well worth the day out, but it's a real shame that one of my particular favourites is being bundled off to the States, although I wish its charismatic owner well.

Best of British, Peter, and thanks for the memories.

Car killer or motoring magic?

JAMES May needs worry no more about the dubious title of Captain Slow, because I’ve nicked it.

The Southport and Ormskirk District Mini Owners’ Club have granted me the slightly suspicious honour because I’ve just completed their annual jaunt over some of Britain’s steepest mountain passes and managed to hold up a mass of souped-up Minis because I was driving so slowly in mine. Yet the fact I completed it all, I reckon, is incredible.

This is the very same Mini that just weeks ago let me down in spectacular fashion by deciding it’d had enough of being a car and wanted to become a Reliant Robin instead, and tried to shed one of its wheels at 40mph. You can probably understand that even though it’d taken many hours of someone else’s painstaking work just to get it up to the 2010 Lakes Tour, based on the shores of Ullswater in the Lake District, I was still taking it a tad cautiously.

As a drive it’s the sort of thing you’d think twice about taking any car on, but would you entrust a 200 mile drive over some of the country’s most challenging mountain passes to a car with a one litre engine, an automatic gearbox, drum brakes and a ropey reliability record?

From the cramped confines of an old car on a lashing, wet Cumbrian morning it’s hard to appreciate the scale of just what I’d asked the Life On Cars Mini to do, so here’s the route in its epic entirety:


View Larger Map

It’s a real car killer of a drive, as the occasional Mini from one of the many other clubs taking part proved as we spied them sulking at the side of the country lanes. From the twists and turns of the mountain pass out to Alston to the one-in-three cliff faces of the Hardknott Pass, it was a hellishly difficult thing to do.

Then there was the agonising moment when the temperature gauge shot up, the car slowed to crawling pace and steam starting swirling out from beneath the bonnet. As it would if you’re trying to take a Mini 1000 Automatic up the Hardknott Pass. It looked, sounded and smelt awful, but once we’d let it cool down and given it a taste of mountain spring water, it started going again. And just kept going.

The car almost everyone had doubted just kept on going, soldering on over everything the Lakes could throw at it. On a day mostly marked out by dark clouds and constant drizzle, it was a burst of sunshine, and just to prove it wasn’t a one-off it followed the 200 miles of climbing by getting me home as well.

It might have been slower than everything else there but it was motoring magic. You should try it sometime.

David Simister will be appearing on the Live From Studio One on Dune 107.9 FM next Friday (June 25) at 6pm to talk about Britain’s best driving roads

This beats the train any day

YOU don’t get the sort of fun I’ve just had by sticking to the motorway.

I’ve just headed home after a weekend in Carlisle but rather than being boring and sticking to the M6 I’ve had a ball blitzing the back roads. I already knew the A6 was a cracking driver's road from my student days of nursing scooters along it, but when you bring a speedy set of wheels to its sweeping curves you know you’re in for an enjoyable afternoon!

The M6, which traverses the same North/South route across the edges of the Lake District, might get you between the North West and Scotland quicker, but I urge anyone with Castrol R surging through their veins to give its older, trickier and twistier sister a try. It’s a cocktail of hairpin curves, steep drops and wide open spaces, and an instant master class in the joys of motoring. Even when the Life On Cars Renault 5 made it to Shap Summit, the highest point, I was smiling the smile of someone who loves his cars.

I love coming to Cumbria because so many of its roads make for sublime driving experiences, and that’s why I’m looking forward to answering an otherwise pointless question in my next feature for GR8 Life magazine so much. Which will get you between Settle and Carlisle faster – a car or one of Britain’s most famous railways? Discuss, using the help of Peugeot’s latest hot hatch.

You might think the Peugeot 207 GT THP 150 would walk it, but the estimate journey times are strikingly close (car: one hour, 30 minutes, train: one hour, 33 minutes). A single set of roadworks or the wrong kind of snow on the line could throw the entire race either way. The road and the railway also take completely different routes, as you can see here:

It really is anyone’s guess as to who’ll win, but I won’t be too downhearted if I lose. I’m lucky enough to have driven a Mini over the Llanberris Pass, threaded a Morgan 4/4 through the leafy lanes of West Lancashire and been scared by a V8 Cobra on the back streets of Southport, but this journey across almost every kind of road in Yorkshire and Cumbria should make a really memorable one.

So, who do you think is going to win?

David Simister will be talking about the race when he appears on Dune FM's Live From Studio One show this Friday (March 27) on Dune 107.9FM, from 6pm.

Find out who wins on Life On Cars later this month and read the full feature in the Summer edition of GR8 Life magazine, due out in July.

The Lake District: a police state, apparently

ONE of my mates is convinced we’re living in some brutal and unfair police state.

She’d felt the full force of the police – that’s a £60 fine to you and me – for breaching the laws of the land, and reckons it’s all the fault of evil, target-hungry coppers. The only problem is, I agree with them.

Her crime was not being bothered to belt up, which I honestly think is one of the riskiest things you can do on the road, short of being drunk or drugged up. The last thing I’d want to do is pretend I’m a brilliant driver dancing around gingerly on the moral high ground – I’m not – but a £60 fine probably wasn’t enough.

I took a break from being a Champion reporter last Friday (even journalists get holidays sometimes) and headed for the Lake District, and at least twice on the rutted rivers they call roads up there I remembered why cars have seatbelts at all.

The old chap in Hawkshead who reversed his van into the side of a line of traffic – my car included – luckily didn’t do any damage, but I still breathed a sigh of relief that nobody was hurt. I had a couple of words with him about his breathtaking stupidity, but I don’t think he liked either of them.

But worst of all was Mondeo Man, who dawdled onto a busy dual carriageway somewhere near Barrow. Despite it being a 70mph road, he stopped dead in the outside lane, and I’m glad my usually hopeless drum brakes actually worked for a change. The consequences of ramming a modern motor with a machine made mainly from rust and gaffer tape doesn’t bear thinking about.

I don’t believe speed is the main cause of accidents – usually it’s hitting things – but I know I’d want to be strapped in if my luck ran out. The boys in blue weren’t being unfair to my Facebook fury friend, but trying to save her life.

£60 to stay alive? Probably a price worth paying.