Jaguar Land Rover’s new advanced product creation centre in Gaydon employs about 13,000 engineers and designers. But back in 1966 it was just three souls – working out of hours, no less – that drew up the initial design of what would become an all-new model for the Rover Company. Then three engineers took the vehicle to production-ready status in only two years. It was a remarkable achievement.
In turn, the project was variously known as ‘Alternative Station Wagon’, ‘100-inch Station Wagon’ and ‘Concept Oyster’ before being launched in 1970 wearing a much more familiar name: Range Rover.
Today, we mark 50 years of the pioneering 4x4 by driving one of the remaining pre-production Range Rovers – engineering vehicle number 23 – which turned from test hack to unlikely rally car in the hands of one of the three aforementioned engineers, Roger Crathorne, who later became its owner. And to see what four generations of evolution looks like, we’ve brought along a current Range Rover SDV8 Vogue.
But first to join the dots between 1966 and 1970. Spencer ‘Spen’ King’s job in Rover’s creative New Vehicle Projects Department was to go metaphorically off piste. But it was a literal manifestation of his role that sparked the idea for the Range Rover when he took a Rover P6 2000 saloon clambering over fields near the company’s factory in Solihull. The car’s soft, long-travel coil springs, he theorised, could do a far better job than the Land Rover’s leaf springs at smoothing out rough terrain while also improving on-road handling.
Emerging international demand for American-style four-wheel-drive ‘leisure’ vehicles such as the International Harvester Scout, Jeep Wagoneer and Ford Bronco warranted further investigation of the concept but called for a more potent heart than Land Rover’s relatively tame 2.25- and 2.6-litre engines. As it happens, with its saloon cars in mind, Rover had already agreed to buy General Motors’ tooling for the all-alloy 3.5-litre Buick V8.
The first prototype was built in July 1967 and had the silhouette of a Range Rover but not the details (see the Ford Transit bumpers). And all-important coil springs aside, it traded heavily on Land Rover hardware, using axles, selectable four-wheel drive and drum brakes from the utilitarian workhorse.
That all changed with the second iteration, which set the formula for production. There was prototype full-time four-wheel drive, a Boge Hydromat self-levelling strut to maintain ride height at the back – allowing both suppleness and stability, regardless of payload – and all-round disc brakes.
A third prototype emerged in July 1969 and replaced the original exterior design with a more refined aesthetic that was instantly recognisable as the production model, which nowadays is known as the Range Rover Classic.
In all, seven prototypes were built, undergoing testing not only at home but also across Europe and North Africa. Then came 28 pre-production chassis, exploring engineering possibilities from long-wheelbase and six-wheeler configurations to ambulance specification and even roof-mounted air conditioning. So as not to arouse suspicion, these cars were branded ‘Velar’ (referencing the Italian velare – to veil) and registered miles away in Croydon.
It is one of these cars we’ve come to drive on the estate surrounding Land Rover Experience London at Luton Hoo. Best known by its reg, YVB 166H (or just ‘166’), it is now owned by Richard Beddall, co-founder and trustee of the 143-strong Dunsfold Collection of Land Rovers that was founded in 1968 to preserve the marque’s history.
Crathorne bought 166 from Rover for a trifling £400 in 1972, and thereafter used it as his family car, including holidaymaking trips to Spain and Greece. The car was sold on in 1979, but Beddall rescued it from a shipping container in a Welsh forest eight years ago. In a sorry state, it had been stripped of its engine, which he replaced as part of an immediate restoration. Its body and chassis are original, as is the gearbox – a production-spec manual with integrated dual range (co-developed for a military Land Rover project) and offering eight forward ratios and two reverses.
And you can bet all of them were used by Crathorne during the two-day Hill Rally of May 1971. Inspired by the Rallye des Cimes in the Pyrenees, it was sponsored by Senior Service cigarettes and became the first speed-based off-road event of its kind in the UK, scaling mountains, galloping along tracks, grappling through bogs and fording rivers across central Wales.
Having completed its core engineering duties, 166 was chosen for the task, although a fear of failure in some company quarters led to it being entered for the event by the Rover Owners’ Association. It was fitted with a roll-cage and other kit such as map-reading lights, a raised differential lock indicator and a passenger-side horn. Despite the misgivings, the seriousness of the entry was not to be doubted, as technical director Peter Wilks gave the green light to use non-OEM Dunlop tyres for the event. “We’re out to win,” he told Crathorne.
There was also hesitance from Crathorne himself, who prefers to treat the natural environment more carefully: “The most important thing is to get from A to B as safely as possible without breaking the eggs,” he tells me. But countless miles of off-road durability experience made him the ideal pilot! Making a mockery of its entry-level status, our Vogue-spec interior is a mosaic of luxury finishes with aspirational names straight from Prince Harry’s travel schedule: Windsor leather, Kalahari wood, Morzine headlining. But one glance at 166’s cabin confirms that Range Rover was not originally a watchword of opulence: it’s a festival of faded black plastic and fractured beige vinyl, while the lashed-on rev counter signals the paucity of standard-fit niceties. Autocar’s 1972 description starkly illustrates how much the nameplate’s attitude to swank has shifted since, as these words from the time attest: “It is a car for the man who has no time to attend to carpets, walnut facings and luxurious hide upholstery.”
But 166’s skinny pillars and expansive glazing offer a lovely feeling of light and unfettered visibility the current model can’t touch, while the high seating position lets you plot the course of that square-set clamshell bonnet with ease. Well, once you’re rolling at least. At manoeuvring speeds, the unassisted recirculating-ball steering takes some work; power steering did not make production until 1973.
The wand-like gearshift has a throw that’s absurdly long by modern standards, especially laterally, but it docks pleasingly into each nook with a gritty thunk. The stubby range selector lever is quite the opposite, needing the briefest shove to engage, while the centre differential lock is a simple vertical organ stop. Unusually, there’s also an overdrive lever, which Crathorne fitted himself. Adding the handbrake by my left leg, the area between the front seats is a mass of black tentacles, all the functions of which have been subsumed into unseen electronics in the new car
Jaguar Land Rover’s new advanced product creation centre in Gaydon employs about 13,000 engineers and designers. But back in 1966 it was just three souls – working out of hours, no less – that drew up the initial design of what would become an all-new model for the Rover Company. Then three engineers took the vehicle to production-ready status in only two years. It was a remarkable achievement.
In turn, the project was variously known as ‘Alternative Station Wagon’, ‘100-inch Station Wagon’ and ‘Concept Oyster’ before being launched in 1970 wearing a much more familiar name: Range Rover.
Today, we mark 50 years of the pioneering 4x4 by driving one of the remaining pre-production Range Rovers – engineering vehicle number 23 – which turned from test hack to unlikely rally car in the hands of one of the three aforementioned engineers, Roger Crathorne, who later became its owner. And to see what four generations of evolution looks like, we’ve brought along a current Range Rover SDV8 Vogue.
But first to join the dots between 1966 and 1970. Spencer ‘Spen’ King’s job in Rover’s creative New Vehicle Projects Department was to go metaphorically off piste. But it was a literal manifestation of his role that sparked the idea for the Range Rover when he took a Rover P6 2000 saloon clambering over fields near the company’s factory in Solihull. The car’s soft, long-travel coil springs, he theorised, could do a far better job than the Land Rover’s leaf springs at smoothing out rough terrain while also improving on-road handling.
Emerging international demand for American-style four-wheel-drive ‘leisure’ vehicles such as the International Harvester Scout, Jeep Wagoneer and Ford Bronco warranted further investigation of the concept but called for a more potent heart than Land Rover’s relatively tame 2.25- and 2.6-litre engines. As it happens, with its saloon cars in mind, Rover had already agreed to buy General Motors’ tooling for the all-alloy 3.5-litre Buick V8. That would do nicely.
The first prototype was built in July 1967 and had the silhouette of a Range Rover but not the details (see the Ford Transit bumpers). And all-important coil springs aside, it traded heavily on Land Rover hardware, using axles, selectable four-wheel drive and drum brakes from the utilitarian workhorse.
That all changed with the second iteration, which set the formula for production. There was prototype full-time four-wheel drive, a Boge Hydromat self-levelling strut to maintain ride height at the back – allowing both suppleness and stability, regardless of payload – and all-round disc brakes.
A third prototype emerged in July 1969 and replaced the original exterior design with a more refined aesthetic that was instantly recognisable as the production model, which nowadays is known as the Range Rover Classic.
In all, seven prototypes were built, undergoing testing not only at home but also across Europe and North Africa. Then came 28 pre-production chassis, exploring engineering possibilities from long-wheelbase and six-wheeler configurations to ambulance specification and even roof-mounted air conditioning. So as not to arouse suspicion, these cars were branded ‘Velar’ (referencing the Italian velare – to veil) and registered miles away in Croydon.
It’s one of these cars we’ve come to drive on the estate surrounding Land Rover Experience London at Luton Hoo. Best known by its reg, YVB 166H (or just ‘166’), it is now owned by Richard Beddall, co-founder and trustee of the 143-strong Dunsfold Collection of Land Rovers that was founded in 1968 to preserve the marque’s history.
Crathorne bought 166 from Rover for a trifling £400 in 1972, and thereafter used it as his family car, including holidaymaking trips to Spain and Greece. The car was sold on in 1979, but Beddall rescued it from a shipping container in a Welsh forest eight years ago. In a sorry state, it had been stripped of its engine, which he replaced as part of an immediate restoration. Its body and chassis are original, as is the gearbox – a production-spec manual with integrated dual range (co-developed for a military Land Rover project) and offering eight forward ratios and two reverses.
And you can bet all of them were used by Crathorne during the two-day Hill Rally of May 1971. Inspired by the Rallye des Cimes in the Pyrenees, it was sponsored by Senior Service cigarettes and became the first speed-based off-road event of its kind in the UK, scaling mountains, galloping along tracks, grappling through bogs and fording rivers across central Wales.
Having completed its core engineering duties, 166 was chosen for the task, although a fear of failure in some company quarters led to it being entered for the event by the Rover Owners’ Association. It was fitted with a roll-cage and other kit such as map-reading lights, a raised differential lock indicator and a passenger-side horn. Despite the misgivings, the seriousness of the entry was not to be doubted, as technical director Peter Wilks gave the green light to use non-OEM Dunlop tyres for the event. “We’re out to win,” he told Crathorne.
There was also hesitance from Crathorne himself, who prefers to treat the natural environment more carefully: “The most important thing is to get from A to B as safely as possible without breaking the eggs,” he tells me. But countless miles of off-road durability experience made him the ideal pilot, and he soon found the bit between his teeth.
“There were thousands of people watching and they were all standing on the track, trying to force you into a bog,” he recalls. “I told [navigator] ‘Taff’ Evans to keep his foot on the horn, because we’re going through them. We were going 60-70mph off road, which is a bit stupid, really. At one stage I overtook the pace car.”
There was a varied field of 45 vehicles. Most were Land Rovers, but there were also several US Army surplus Jeeps, Toyota Land Cruisers and Austin Champs. Intrigue was added by the Austrian 643cc flat twin-engined Halflinger agricultural vehicle. Its locking front and rear differentials helped with the slippery stuff, but it couldn’t keep up in the open. Meanwhile, the leaf-sprung Land Rovers bucked and dived across the terrain, their occupants – and sometimes their panels – regularly escaping their moorings.