Mud isn’t just for exfoliating: We take the Land Rover LR3 on an off-roading spa day

Land Rover knows what it is. Regardless of model, it’s a given that a Land Rover has the kind of off-road know-how to take you anywhere you want to go.

But where do you test those age-old claims if your daily drive doesn’t include the Rubicon Trail? After this history-resetting winter, I had hoped for a unique challenge when the 2007 Land Rover LR3 arrived at its tail end, just before spring broke. The best we got in town was a day of clouds and hail, so I had to go farther in search of a challenge.

The back road to the ski valley beckoned, but it turned out it didn’t open for another week or so. So no empty, aspen-lined, rock-studded roving, but there was still plenty of mud. If you can’t truly test a Land Rover’s abilities, the least you can do is get it as filthy as possible. That’s increasingly important because Land Rovers are becoming so stylishly clean and posh.

The old Discovery always looked like it was on safari, with its tall tires, narrow track, haphazard build quality and overall mechanical design. The LR3 is so vastly improved in every way that one might worry it’s lost its edge. Land Rover has made boxy styling almost sleek, and tight panel gaps, a stocked interior and plenty of curbside cachet improve the experience.

Whereas the Discovery displayed all its rock-hopping mechanicals for everyone to see — and front and center on the spec sheet — everything that makes the LR3 nearly unstoppable in the rough is more a matter of electronics.

The quantum leap here is that precise tuning of all the various traction and stability programs for a certain situation are selected through the unique Terrain Response System, where you turn a dial to lock in your choice of:

General is the default mode, compatible with all on- and off-road conditions. Think of this as being comparable to the “automatic” setting on a digital camera.
Grass/Gravel/Snow maximizes traction on firm but slippery surfaces, such as wet leaves and grass or hard-packed snow and ice.
Mud/Ruts can make a difference on soft, wet ground where some degree of wheelspin is important in order to maintain momentum.

Sand tweaks engine and transmission programming, as well as the traction control and differential locks, for additional control in conditions where the ground gives way easily, such as dry, soft sand or loose dirt.
Rock Crawl is the one I wanted to exercise. It’s meant for conditions where you expect to encounter clusters of boulders or other large obstacles where maximum wheel articulation, throttle control, ground clearance and low-speed traction are critical.
It’s all so civilized. And yet I never found need to play around with the dial at all. Maybe that’s what makes the LR3 so intriguing: knowing that you have all this ability, even if you never use it.

Down to details

Also quite civilized is the interior, which is far superior to what used to come in a Land Rover but still retains a visual link to the blocky simplicity of old. The dash looks like nothing else, which is part of the mystique. In any other vehicle, the wealth of monotonous grey plastic and identical buttons, especially on the center console, would be alarming, and I might accuse it of being a cost-cutting measure. But in the LR3 it comes off as more of a traditional cue, a no-nonsense arrangement that works fine and doesn’t distract should you actually venture off-road. The dash, like the rest of the LR3, feels honest and ready to work.

Two engines are offered in three models: The V6 SE is powered by a 216-horsepower 4.0-liter V-6 that feels pretty spunky while both the V8 SE and the V8 HSE get a 300-hp 4.4-liter V-8 that has big power but is grown-up in how it puts it down. The LR3 is a heavy beast, and it never feels sporty. But it nonetheless plies the road with authority. Both engines work through a six-speed automatic transmission that offers manual-shifting ability.

When you look at the specifications, you quickly see what the engines have to work with: The LR3 is easily a thousand pounds heavier than it should be. In top trim, Land Rover lists a curb weight of 5,796 pounds, which is more than 200 pounds heavier than a four-wheel-drive Chevy Tahoe and some 460 pounds heavier than the BMW X5 with an even bigger V-8 engine. If much of that weight can be attributed to the off-roading hardware, it raises the question of how important that aura of ability is for buyers.

For the 2007 model year, all LR3s gets a few improvements, making standard previously optional things like a leather interior, sunroof and a 240-watt harman/kardon stereo with controls on the steering wheel. Also new are power-seat adjustments that work without the key, one-touch controls for the front-passenger window, a three-flash turn signal and a clock in the instrument panel, in addition to the one in the radio. But the biggest change is more standard equipment for the V8 SE, including rear air-conditioning controls, rear park-distance control, front foglights and puddle and footwell lights

The front seats are spacious and very comfortable. Three-row, seven-passenger seating is now standard on both V-8 models and optional on the base model. It’s a bit tight in the back for adults, but stadium seating helps the two-passenger third row feel more airy. And the wrap-up windows also help to fight claustrophobia. There really is a huge amount of room in the LR3 — Land Rover calls its interior one of the most spacious in the midsize SUV category.

But the best thing about the Land Rover LR3 is still academic, because I never found an appropriate trail to put it to the test. But I really doubt that any significant number of owners will — they’ll be satisfied to know it could tackle any obstacle that might pop up and spend the rest of the time simply enjoying the luxurious Britishness of it all. So I’ll just say it easily met any challenge I could dish out in daily use while still looking fit for the opera or downtown restaurants — and held the promise of being ready to take any back road there. And isn’t that what it’s really all about? How’s that for self-assured?

This article was taken from: SantaFeDrive.com

The world’s most complete luxury 4×4 just got smarter, with the 2007 model year Range Rover Vogue TDV8, pioneering an innovative world-first technical solution – the petrol fuel guard system.

The petrol fuel guard system helps prevent drivers filling their diesel vehicle with petrol – an increasingly common error in this age of the ultra-refined diesel engines. Land Rover’s innovative new system is incorporated into the vehicle’s diesel filler head and automatically activates the intervention of a mechanical shutter if a petrol nozzle is inserted, preventing petrol being dispensed into the diesel tank.

The system distinguishes between petrol and diesel nozzles because thinner unleaded petrol dispensers go deeper down the neck of the vehicle’s fuel tank, thus activating the shutter.

Chief programme engineer for the 2007 model year Range Rover Vogue, Mick Cameron, says: “The new TDV8 engine in the Range Rover Vogue is so powerful and refined we feel that there is a danger, more so with this vehicle than with any we have sold in the past, of the driver mistaking the vehicle for a petrol-powered derivative – especially if the driver isn’t the vehicle’s regular user. Mis-fuelling is an expensive and complex problem to fix, and we are delighted to be first to the market with this innovative solution.”

The AA reports that in 2005, in the UK alone, over 100,000 cases of mis-fuelling were reported, with diesel vehicles being filled with petrol being by far the most common error. The associated costs are significant, often amounting to several thousand dollars if the incorrect fuel enters the engine upon starting the vehicle.

The Range Rover Vogue for 2007 comes with a host of other significant enhancements, on both the TDV8 diesel and V8 petrol derivatives, including the all-new V8 diesel engine, revised cabin design and new technologies including Terrain Response and the fuel protection system as standard.

This article was taken from: PaddockTalk

Step into a Land Rover, any Land Rover, and you’ll feel like a king of the road. An urban cowboy, a tarmac taming wheel warrior.

Four by fours inherently make every journey an event in itself, and the Freelander 2 is no different.

Its high-ceilinged cab, brutish good looks and gruff engine grumble all add to the sense of occasion once you step inside. What’s more, its sheer size demands respect from other drivers, although it’s equally likely to be fear, depending where you aim it.

That said, the Freelander 2’s deceptively easy to drive. Parking sensors front and back make manoeuvring it around city streets as easy as flinging it around dirt tracks.

We took our test drive off-road for a brief spell in the countryside, and enjoyed absolute comfort on even the craggiest routes through country bumpkinshire.

That eagerness to tackle dips and mounds comes into its own in the city too. Where other motors baulk at speed humps, the Freelander 2 took them in style, with barely a drop of our in-journey beverages landing on the all-leather interior.

Of course, being gadget-fans our first port of call was to prod every button, switch, lever and dial in the cab. Some – like the terrain response dial, built-in Bluetooth phone interface, furiously rapid heated seats and crystal clear satnav screen elicited delighted oohs and ahhs. While others, like the slightly plasticky stereo controls, left T3’s band of four-wheel drivers thoroughly uninspired.

Speaking of the stereo, while it’s true Land Rover’s controls aren’t the flashiest in existence, there’s no faulting the sound system’s quality.

Alpine speakers and Dolby-crafted innards mean it’s the finest factory-fitted stereo we’ve ever heard. A centre speaker and clever processing mean stereo separation is second to none, while speakers dotted all around the rear let passengers get an earful too.

Back seat dwellers don’t have to share the same audio source though. The Freelander 2’s got an auxiliary input just for rear-seated travellers, and headphone sockets with individual volume controls too.

Over all, Land Rover’s latest is an absurdly spacious moving machine, packed with nice touches, even if the interior design remains slightly drab.

From the outside too, it’s a good looking hunk of metal, and unlike some “all terrain” vehicles is genuinely designed to be taken off road. T3’s verdict? Five out of five for this four by four.

This article was taken from: T3 The World’s No. 1 Gadget Mag

ZF have a long standing and successful history with Land Rover. Their vehicles have been fitted with ZF auto boxes for longer than most of us care to recollect. And since the introduction of the world’s first 6-speed auto box in 2001 the relationship has continued to be a strong one with the units being fitted to Discovery, Range Rover and Range Rover Sport models.

But ZF don’t just do auto boxes. April 2007 marked the milestone of 1 MILLION (I think that number is worth repeating: 1,000,000) Axle system assemblies delivered to the Solihull assembly line. The first unit appeared in July 2004 and since that date they have been fitted to the Discovery and Range Rover Sport models.

The Axle units are not just basic components either, they are complete ‘corner’ solutions include the entire wheel suspension: ie wheel carrier, bearings, steering (for front units) dampers, springs and all the brake components. Obviously they need four per vehicle so that’s an impressive quarter of a million vehicles in under three years.

ZF have further secured their reputation as being the best in the business by completing an entire 12 month period with zero-defect efficiency. (ie none were sent back) Compare that to the ‘bad old days’ of BL where component manufacturers were routinely allowed a 10 percent defect clause in their supply contracts.

It is only in the past decade or so that companies like ZF have been able to work so closely with vehicle designers and manufacturers to provide complete ready-to-fit assemblies which has greatly increased efficiency and reliability.

In other news recently release ZF confirmed that it has now developed an 8-speed automatic gearbox for passenger vehicles with a claimed 14% reduction in fuel consumption (and therefore emissions) over a standard 5-speed auto-box.

No plans have yet been announced regarding the use of these ‘boxes in Land Rover products but a ZF press release interestingly states that the unit can “serve as a modular system for all-wheel concepts without changing the basic transmission concept” so it may only be a matter of time as the Solihull vehicle line-up becomes more road-friendly and biased towards performance rather than mud.

This article was taken from: Land Rover Owner International

Despite its having been gentrified, and equipped with a new engine and gearbox, the Defender is still a Defender, and all the better for it.

Believe it or not, there is a small island in the south Pacific where Latin is still spoken by 95 per cent of the population. Even their TV programmes are dubbed in Latin, including Star Trek, the island’s equivalent of Corrie.

Indeed, so obsessed are the natives with what they know as Astrum Migrare, that whenever a visiting freighter calls at their small harbour, the locals invade the quayside in the hopes of meeting a Scottish sailor to whom they can proclaim: “Me transmitte sursum, caledoni.”

Needless to say, the island’s rough terrain demands the widespread use of Land Rovers, but when the first 2007 Defenders arrived, the word on the street (they have only one) was “Sic transit gloria Terra Vagus.” Roughly translated, that means ‘So passes away the glory of the Land Rover.’

Personally, I think that’s a bit strong, but Landy purists the world over will no doubt lament the passing of the stalwart Td5 engine, and view with suspicion the introduction of a new six-speed transmission that in certain circumstances eliminates the need to use the low-ratio ‘box. Indeed, ‘Mutus plumae’, or dumb down, runs the accusation among the islanders.

According to Land Rover, its 2.4-litre, Td4, four cylinder replacement for the Td5 engine is ‘state of the art’, which sounds quite promising, but less so when you learn that it is no more than a Ford Transit engine. Even so, the seemingly plebeian origins conceal the fact that the new engine is altogether more powerful, and more flexible than the unit it replaces.

Powerful is perhaps the wrong word. Strictly speaking, the power is still a fairly modest 122 PS, but the real workhorse element – the torque – of the 4-pot engine exceeds that of the Td5 by a substantial margin: 20 per cent, to be precise. Peak torque is now 360 Nm, delivered at 2000 rpm. Moreover, 90 per cent of the peak output is delivered between 1500 and 2700 rpm, resulting in notably improved flexibility and a broader operating range in any particular gear. In short, the Ford engine enables more pulling power for fewer gear changes. And it’s cleaner, too.

According to Gary Taylor, the Defender’s chief programme engineer, “…seasoned Defender owners will really value the step change in refinement.” That may well be true, but the refinement doesn’t stretch to the sound signature: in place of the powerful-sounding, 5-cylinder beat of what was once code-named the ‘Storm’ engine comes the lightweight clatter of an engine meant for delivery vans, not arctic explorers and defenders of the realm.

Having said all that, the engine is not a direct lift from the Transit. Before it gets bolted into a Defender platform it will have been extensively modified to suit off-road duty, which naturally places different demands on oil-feeds and engine mapping.

But given that the new engine is more flexible and delivers superior torque, it begs the question, why a six-speed ‘box? I can understand the motive and means behind stretching top gear – more torque enables a longer gear and fewer revs – but why add what amounts to a crawler gear at the opposite end of the ‘box? Apparently it is so that, er….domestic users, will no longer need to wrestle with the transfer ‘box in order to find a gear low enough to tug their horse-box out of a muddy field.

So, the new six-speed unit (also late of Transit) has lower ratios at the bottom end and higher at the top. Indeed, fifth gear in the new ‘box is higher than was top gear in the old, five-speed ‘box mated to the Td5. Good, that’s that out of the way, but what about the rest of the drive-train?

Status quo, as they would say on the island: exactly as before – same axles, diffs and so on, and the same utterly superior traction on almost any surface short of water. But even when water is encountered the regular wading depth of 50 cm should be adequate, although there are ways and means of coping with a greater depth. Approach, departure and ramp angles remain as acute as ever.

Less acutely rudimentary, and therefore much more bearable, are the cabin ergonomics. In place of Indiana-Jones-basic comes gentrification; at least in the range-topping XS model, as tested. Having ditched the optional centre front seat, the new 90 XS is strictly a four seater. In place of the missing seat is a kind of cabin trunk after the Blue Peter school of home carpentry, complete with sticky-backed plastic by way of a covering.

As a trade-off, the remaining two seats are now wider and have a reasonable range of fore and aft adjustment. No longer do you need to be between 5′ 6″ and 5′ 7″ to find a comfortable position. And the seat rails are on an inclined plane, so that they rise as they slide forward. Were it not so large, the steering wheel would look at home in a tug, but at least there’s now room to sit further away.

The rear seats, too, are vastly improved and no longer suit only a Labrador. Instead they offer a fair degree of comfort, and an ingenious mechanism enables them to be folded up and to either side of the rear load platform, leaving a reasonably clear floor. But it is the view forward from the back door that reveals the greatest change to the interior of the workhorse Landy. In place of a motley collection of scattered switchgear, and heater controls that give cables a bad name, the new 90 actually has a proper fascia and, in Land Rover terms, is equipped with a few novelties.

Actually fascia is overdoing it a bit. What the 90 now has is a proper centre stack: a little industrial strength, maybe, but neatly integrated, nonetheless. Mind you, old habits die hard, and there’s still some evidence of Land Rover’s having raided the Sherpa parts bins for some of the switchgear. But that aside, the centre stack contains irrefutable proof of the Defender’s having at last succumbed to market forces: at least on the XS model, which has – dare I utter this within earshot of my Landy mates? – which has…..air-conditioning. And I don’t mean those fascia-level flaps that open to admit fresh air, but proper air conditioning, with knobs and dials, and so on. I believe it’s even connected to the ‘lectric.

And there’s more: heated seats, no less, along with electric windows, a heated front screen, a radio-CD with MP3 connectivity, and central locking. For such munificence you will need to fork out £26,135 for the XS model, but in a mood of heady largesse, Land Rover also throws in ABS and traction control.

But don’t expect too much finesse. Fixing screws are still visible, and I suspect that behind the centre stack lurk valves for the radio.

Yet despite pampering to the carriage trade, Land Rover seems obdurately wedded to the original Defender concept, and fundamentally the vehicle architecture remains unchanged. Apart from the novelty of pressing a few buttons, and not needing crutches after a lengthy journey, any Landy owner will find that the driving experience is largely unchanged.

The performance is very similar: the ‘sprint’ to 60 mph takes almost 15 seconds and the top speed is scarcely more than 80 mph, all in return for 28 to the gallon, or thereabouts. And apart from remembering to pull away in second rather than first, the rest is pretty much regular 90. It still bounces around on its short wheelbase, you still bang your right elbow on the door trim, and you still need to operate a stubby little lever in order to engage low-ratio and the diff lock.

Incidentally, the low first gear is so low in low ratio (how low can you get?) that the 90 on tickover is reputed to be able to tow a 38-tonne truck. Off-road, that translates into an ability to ‘walk’ the Landy over difficult terrain at a crawl. On the negative side, it is advisable to tackle steep descents in second gear to avoid tobogganing, even though the engine has a ‘speed up’ feature if wheel lock-up is detected (on ABS-equipped models).

The adherence to established design and construction parameters is no bad thing. Fashion hardly dictates the Defender’s appearance, and what goes on underneath is far more important. Durability is probably the most salient feature of a Defender, and provided it keeps going, few buyers would care that the design has changed very little in sixty years. Stand a Series 1 alongside a 2007 car and there is no doubting the DNA. And of the many, many Land Rovers sold in those sixty years, more than two-thirds are still in use.

Indeed, one of those very first Land Rovers was shipped out to our Pacific island and almost at once acquired a bumper sticker that read ‘Ad eundum quo nemo ante iit’, or as we would understand it ‘To boldly go where no man has gone before’. Given the durability of the marque, the sticker might just as easily have read ‘Vivere longus et prospere’.

This article was taken from: NEWCARNET