Since around 2005, the Land Rover LR3 has been synonymous with the phrase “Big Bad-Ass Box.” While there are vehicles that are bigger, vehicles that are more Bad-Ass, and vehicles that are boxier, it’s hard to find a solution that puts the three together quite like this. In the horse-racing world, it’s known as the Trifecta.
Some quick stats on the Big Bad-Ass Box (BBAB):
Model: 2009 LR3
Color: Zermatt Silver w/ Almond Premium Trim
Mileage: 12 city/17 hwy
Price: $55,400
It came with the Heavy Duty Package, the HSE LUX Package, and the 7-Seat Comfort Package. And it has 3 sunroofs. THREE!
But really, how does BBAB drive? It drove amazingly well for a BBAB. Just last week I’d had the distinct pleasure of driving “the-most-expensive-Kia-of-all-time.” It was a $36,000 Kia Borrego, which is simply offensive, but the difference between that Korean appliance and this British exploratory force is far more than the $20,000 that sits between them.
The BBAB was smooth on the highway (like a baby’s bottom, only through the miracle of high-tech suspesnion and Almond leather). It had excellent visability all-around, and glided effortlessly through lane changes all along the urban landscape with which it was tested. Which leads me to my biggest complaint about the car; at almost $56,000, you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone willing to take it off-road in order to properly experience it’s rugged capabilities. Driving around the city in this thing feels like making a thoroughbred racehorse give pony rides at the fair. It’s not what it was built for. But, even with all of that potential, it’s a rare safari that takes these high-capacity rigs into the real desert.
Of everyone I know that owns a Land Rover of any kind, none of them take them off the pavement. Not one. And with that, there’s a constant internal conflict that refuses to resolve as you drive it. Everywhere you look inside you’re reminded that you can change it’s ride height, set different performance options for desert, ice, gravel and pavement.
In the end, I thought the car was a fantastic ride. It was smooth and elegant when it needed to be, but tough and brawny, like a big-brother backing you up in a fight. You had no worries as to what mother-nature could throw at you. I just wonder, does a garaged Land Rover LR3 feel trapped in the city like a caged lion? And is it an offense to mother nature to keep her there?
