The Chase Is On

Nissan's 350Z packs a throaty great V6 sending power to the rear wheels – much love!

I love bikers. Most of them, anyway. Once in a while you’ll come across one or maybe even three who know what they are doing and make absolute mince meat out of a road. They’ll even hang out a leather clad knee through a corner, making your sweaty efforts behind the wheel of a car seem about as heroic as eating spaghetti with your bare hands.

Bikers, particularly the enthusiastic ones (those who sometimes like to relay shouted stories to each other at traffic lights) can add an epic amount of fun to a drive. It is one thing to go chasing apexes alone in a four wheeled machine on a deserted country road, but quite another to chase blokes straddling something Japanese along a road you’ve never driven before and they have.

And so it was with a recent and rather impulsive B-road blat, my cousin kindly handing me the keys to his glorious sounding Nissan 350Z, looking positively bulbous in metallic grey and subtly aftermarket on its optional Rays rims.

A quick supermarket run beforehand morphed into something more inspiring after deciding that, with the night before’s hangover quickly dispersed in a flurry of paracetamol and Diet Lilt, we fancied a road trip. With tank fat with fuel, the Zed was up for it and so the search for twisty asphalt began. To find it, we simply aimed at the countryside. What we discovered blew us away.

The route, which starts just outside Otley and spears north towards the A59.

Keep your patience navigating through the West Yorkshire town of Otley and soon you are presented with the national speed limit sign of Newall Carr Road, which heads north and links with Weston Moor Road. Drink in as much scenery as you dare, but don’t forget there are blind dips, off-camber corners and I-could-take-that-twice-as-fast-next-time sweepers to deal with.

Views get better still on Askwith Moor Road, your fast advance backed by breathtaking views of some of Yorkshire’s finest moorland. For most of the time along this dream piece of tarmac, visibility is panoramic, which invites you to keep that right foot planted just a little longer.

Views are stunning, those along Askwith Moor Road particularly so.

Several hair raising corners later, connected by straights that aren’t really straight at all, and you eventually come to the A59 near Carr Wood. Of course, I was looking forward to the return leg, that six miles or so not only whetting my appetite but also making me fall in love with driving all over again. And then it got really interesting.

Our about-turn landed us behind a 4x4 pick-up whose driver looked in no hurry. Umm-ing and ahh-ing about an overtake on a steep incline, I had precisely three seconds to register the glaring headlamps of two superbikes in my rear-view mirror before their riders hunkered down, flicked their wrists and whipped past. Challenge accepted!

The return six miles or so were a mesmerising blur. The Zed and I gave it everything to keep up with the two wheeled madmen. Firing along unfamiliar roads at speed focuses the mind  and is definitely not recommended, but things were made easier by the two bikers up front who were guiding me along.

Judging their entry speeds into corners was key to keeping in touch and I was managing to eat into the distance between us in the braking zones, but that gap would increase once more as they opened it up on exit, backed by that unmistakable superbike scream.

The bikers' knowledge of the road came in handy during parts like this.

I couldn’t tell you what speeds we hit and it doesn’t matter anyway. What I can tell you, though, is that during the last stretch of road the Zed called time, its brake pedal going long and making me thank the heavens for knowing how to use a gearbox to scrub off speed. That last left hander could have been quite messy!

Truth be told, I was glad our coupe had had enough. Its owner too, no doubt. By this stage I was a sweaty, grinning mess and had received that adrenaline hit I’d sub-consciously craved since slipping behind the Nissan’s helm. I’d even managed to keep the bikers honest, if only just.

Ticking and pinging as we walked away from it afterwards, the Zed had done its job and then some. It really does sound wonderful and is one of those cars that feels at its best when you’re working it hard. It hates being mollycoddled.

Anyone that loves driving will eagerly tell you about their most enthralling experience, and this was definitely one of mine. Not only had I found a stunning piece of road, I'd crossed paths with two great bikers as well.

A Journey of Discovery

Boxy brilliance; the Land Rover Discovery 3 blew me away.

Sometimes, just sometimes, cars surprise their driver so much with their natural talent that said enlightened person must go home and blog about it. So, here goes...

Contrary to earlier belief, the Land Rover Discovery ­and more specifically, the Land Rover Discovery 3, ­is a brilliant car.

I say this not because I've driven one through six feet of snow, weaved through crowds of brown bears hunting trout in rivers, nor pointed the Discovery's blocky nose skyward and pounded up a mountainside. But because I've steered one up the M40. The M25 and A5, too.

My steed was a base spec, 2.7 diesel with cloth seats, Costa coffees in the cup holders and claw like scratches on the black plastic trim in the boot. 
As you would expect given the Disco 3's two-box design, the interior follows a similar path with cube shaped air vent and door handle mounts, and prisms for door pockets, door trim and centre console. Protruding from the dashboard, the latter looks like Optimus Prime's chest post morph into a robot.

The six-speed manual has a lovely, chunky feel to its action.

Sprouting way up high from the floor and with a girth to make a pornstar proud, the lever linked to the six-speed manual 'box feels a little loose when not in gear, but the way it slots home is genuinely astounding. Not because it's particularly brilliant, but because you expect it to be so bad. It just isn't. Nor does the steering shuffle loosely around centre ­- yes it is a little light dead ahead, but weights up nicely on the move while turning. There is even a bit of feel, I kid you not.

Who'd have thought you could heel and toe in a Land Rover.

The fact the pedals are perfectly spaced for heel and toeing says it all; a designer or engineer, probably British, sat down and said, "Let's get the basics spot on and go from there". Whoever you are, I applaud you. Not only have you created a supposedly rugged 4x4 that looks half decent, is capable of climbing Everest ­- probably -­ and is mildly appealing inside, even in base spec, but you've actually managed to make it pleasurable to drive.

Large bumps made the front end of the Disco I drove buck slightly, signalling worn front shocks, yet it still cornered handily and pummelled road scuff without occupants feeling the violence going on beneath them. Of course it rolled, but then there is never a need to go baiting hot hatches in a Land Rover.

This marque now means so much more to me than before.

The Land Rover Discover 3 gave me one of those drives that made me curse the impressions others have handed out to me. Its brilliance lies in its undeniable refinement, more so since, unlike SUVs from Audi, BMW, Mercedes et al, the Disco is also genuinely capable of taking you to little inhabited corners of the Earth.