- guardian.co.uk, Sunday August 24 2008 00.01 BST
- The Observer, Sunday August 24 2008
Mitsubishi L200 Warrior
£18,499
MPG: 32.8
Top speed: 103
Seats: 5
Looking like a cross between Darth Vader's helmet and a reject from Pimp My Ride, the Mitsubishi L200 Warrior is an acquired taste. Its bulging wheels, super-high suspension, chrome piping, four-pronged bash plate and Dakar rally-inspired styling means you stand out on a suburban road like a cold sore on a newsreader's face. But, heck, what did I care. Donning checked shirt, baseball cap and stained teeth, I kissed my sister, I mean, wife goodbye and hauled myself into the luxurious cab. Two neighbours gawked on the pavement, hugging themselves with delight as they sharpened their witty one-liners: 'Are you secretly from Kentucky, Billy Bob?' and, 'There's room for a moose in the back, pardner.'
I took no notice, turned up the country & western and twisted the key. I wasn't expecting a smooth ride. But the L200's 2.5-litre diesel makes porridge look silky. The whole car shook and rattled as we grunted out of the drive towards open country - well, the South Circular anyway.
Built for the outdoors, the handling is blunter than John Prescott. Add poor rear vision, an inordinately wide stance and a gearbox which feels like you're arm-wrestling and you have a recipe for disaster. Catching the eyes of oncoming drivers and giving them your best 'excuse me' grimace becomes so exhausting you end up just ignoring them - which I suppose is the point. Parking on the other hand is easy, but that's only because incidentals such as kerbs, pedestrians and wheelie bins barely trouble you...
Clearly this pimped up pick-up is not going to appeal to everyone, or indeed anyone. There are two sub-groups, however, who seem to hold the car's testosterone-boosting features in high regard. The first is schoolboys. I drove my 11-year-old son to a cricket match in it and I couldn't have made more friends if I'd been George Bush attending an arms convention. The entire team climbed into the back - where the dead moose should have been - and started jumping up and down. The second group, more worryingly, are adults. More precisely, the 4,376 members of the L200 Owners' Club ('£15 for lifetime membership'). The only entry criteria, plenty of facial hair.
The L200 has been around for almost 20 years. To start with it was the 'what it says on the tin' choice for builders, farmers and anyone with a yearning to transport heavy furniture over rugged terrain. But when Mitsubishi added a double cab, a stereo, aircon, cupholders and a slathering of lifestyle attitude, their no-nonsense pick-up was transformed into a chrome-effect city slicker. Or, as the admen would have it, a classy vehicle for rough valleys and smooth valets.
Still, with the engine ticking along, the 4WD's traction control making mincemeat of a slippery track and a family's worth of muddy bikes in the back, I began to see the point. Maybe I'd suit a moustache after all...
