Four wheel drive to family fun

By CAMERON WILLIAMSON

Like a downhill skier in the starting gate, we paused the Land Rover Freelander on the edge of the ridge. From our vantage point on the rugged Waikato coast, we could see past Mt Karioi to the white cone of Taranaki shimmering above the sea's horizon.

We couldn't see the ground in front of the short bonnet, but it was time to test the Freelander's Hill Descent Control, so my 5-year-old son and I buckled our belts, pulled the yellow trigger on the gearstick, selected first gear and pitched ourselves into the unknown.

"To infinity and beyond!" yelled Fred, and with enough pitch to have us hanging in our seatbelts and my feet clear of the pedals, we pulsed and crawled gently down the 30-degree slope at a sedate 5 km/h.

Gimmick or lifesaver? Land Rover's "unique" HDC is used in situations where off-road drivers select the low-ratio box and crawl like a bulldozer; where traction and control are imperative.

The system combines the engine with the ABS to pulse the brakes whenever necessary to maintain safe and steady progress down a hill.

As a get-me-out-of-trouble mechanism, I guess HDC has its uses. But it felt completely unnatural to trust a machine to do its job without just a dab on the brakes. Which is precisely when the HDC cuts out.

My guess is that most Freelanders will never see a pitch steeper of slipperier than the ramps of a multistory carpark, and HDC is more a glance over the shoulder to Land Rover's distinguished off-road history.

It's still an extremely capable off-roader with good ground clearance, permanent 4WD and chunky treads, but once we'd got over the novelty and driven through a few cow-pats, we stuck mainly to the roads.

When we picked up the 1.8-litre XE petrol-injected Freelander from Rover City, the cute younger sibling of the popular Discovery, it had 3000km on the clock and not a spec of dust.

We brought it back waist-high in mud 1500km later with a 2-litre diesel under the bonnet, and the reason for the switch had Discovery owners shaking their heads with familiarity at build-quality problems.

But we had set that Freelander a task. Load up a family of four and take them on the traditional Kiwi Christmas holiday perambulation in all its variety: motorway crawls to get out of the city, freeway flying to get the hard kilometres done, some uneven surfaces, slippery side roads, paddock picnics, logging tracks, boat ramps, sand dunes, half-finished clay corners.

And like any modern family, we wanted safety, comfort, interior space, good storage and sound and hoping for a scorching summer break air conditioning.

First impressions? "Coooool," said the 7-year-old, seduced by the sparkly gold paint and a terrific stereo that could play her new B*witched tape. "Awesome," said the 5-year-old buckling into the back seat and taking in the big-screen view from the generous back window.

What impressed us most was the interior design. It's not a huge cabin judged against other 4WD people-carriers on the road, but firm, slim seats, the deep front dashboard with removable rubber mats, well-placed storage buckets, glove boxes and elasticised drink holders made us feel we were in a bigger car.

The DoC green and khaki colour scheme gave a military-in-mufti kind of efficiency, and the chunky feel of the whole car reeks of quality, as it should for $48,600. Sir Terence Conran was instrumental in the design of the Discovery; the influences are obvious here.

The quality furniture and styling is really all that separates it from its competitors in the compact 4WD class. Honda's CRV, and Suzuki's Vitara are around the $40K mark (the Vitara with full spec and a V6 to boot) and Toyota's 2-litre Rav4 is almost $20K cheaper.

Because there is as much glass as metal in the doors, a good rake on the windscreen, and what the designer Gerry McGovern (he did the MGF, too) calls "an absence of gimmicks," the kerbside impact of the Freelander is of a rounded, muscular, compact 4WD, the five-door "station wagon" only slightly more staid than the rag-backed, fun loving three-door.

The mother was dubious that the family luggage would fit in what appeared to be a slightly undersized rear end (it's 1.3 cu m), but with judicious use of door pockets and underfloor security hatch, we squeezed in baggage for four, tent bag, swimming basket, food box and boogie boards.

We had a shakedown trip to the western Waikato's Waimai Valley, down the twisting metalled road that forms a stage of New Zealand's international rally course. And the Freelander proved a well-mannered and plucky rural wagon, enough squirt at moderate speeds to be effective, but lacking the grunt for some of the steeper climbs on the open road.

The addition, later this year, of a V6 engine, should help the power shortage.

The Freelander let itself down a few days later, rolling down Highway 27 en route to a lakeside holiday. The temperature started rising in the cabin and the power steering got heavy. We pulled in to an AA garage and found the Freelander had thrown its belts and bent its tensioner shaft. We were stuck.

Rover HQ was aghast. "Unheard of on a 4000km vehicle," said the workshop, "Embarrassingly inconvenient," said marketing (I assumed he meant for us ...). To their credit, and without invoking the 5-star insurance cover, motels, taxis and hire cars, The people at Rover worked hard to replace the Freelander from Tauranga double-quick.

The only difference (apart from drum-tight belts) we noticed was the diesel's clankier engine noise. The petrol engine was more powerful (88kW@5550rpm against 72kW@4200rpm) but we found that having more torque lower down really improved the Freelander's usability.

After a few days poking around the lakes, nosing down slippery boat ramps and up logging tracks, we were hard pushed to find the Freelander wanting. But where it proved its mettle was safely transporting three generations of the family from Raglan down to Kawhia, over an unmade clay road between showers.

In anything lower slung without the Freelander's electronic traction-controlled four wheel drive, I might have hesitated. But once we'd had a boot-side picnic after a hike to Bridal Veil Falls, the only reason to stop was for the 7 year old to bring it all back up again.

I've seen a lot more on the road since we familiarised ourselves with the Freelander, mainly on the school run, and I've warmed to it. Perhaps the shape has grown on me, perhaps it's the refreshment of seeing such a stolidly British marque produce something that knows how to have fun. Maybe it's just knowing that if the fastest route home happens to ford three streams and traverse mud rock and hair-raising slopes, the Freelander allows you the option.