Words Alessandro Marrone / Photos Bruno Serra

Let’s go back in time to those years when the world wasn’t digital yet and when children weren’t raised on bread and smartphones. My childhood was happy and, unfortunately for current and future generations, unrepeatable. I remember every single Christmas present, every car trip with my parents and all those toys that before dinner I used to place in obsessive order in my bedroom, ready for a few hours of rest, before a new game session, mostly regarding parking lots. I also remember our Sunday drives, which when they involved a forest or a mountain road took on a completely different flavor compared to, for example, the boring walks in a random city, where I certainly wasn’t attracted by the shop windows. I was a kid and couldn’t wait to get into my father’s Land Rover Defender.

It seemed gigantic, I thought it was impossible to grow to the point of being able to govern it on the road, let alone where there was not even the slightest hint of a path to put the wheels on. That noise that on the motorway became deafening and prevented us from speaking soon gave way to the quiet of the wildest nature, accompanying us along a route that without a single signpost I could have traveled by heart even after so many years. At the time, I didn’t know the names of the little towns there, nor ‘bout the white trails, but I could recognize certain trees and those curves that more than any other represented our great trip in the woods, where you only met a couple of persons, also looking for a magical place where to appreciate the really important things in life.

It is in the heart of the forest that you realize that it doesn’t take much to be happy, far from the noise and frenzy that today puts even the most serene spirits to the test. After more than three decades, I finally gain the driving seat of a Land Rover Defender, the short wheelbase version always called 90, even if the number now only serves to differentiate it from the longer 110. The elapsed time is not only visible on my face, but also in the car itself, which from a pure off-road vehicle without frills has undergone a profound transformation that allows it to still keep us company for other generations to come. As we extensively investigated years ago, with our first test (it was a Defender 110), the skills away from the asphalt have surprisingly remained untouched, but the on-board technology makes coexistence suitable for the needs of a 3.0 motorist.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who experiences a sort of time travel, just by looking at the squared lines of its body. I smile every time I see a detail that pays homage to the glorious past of the best off-roader ever, just as I am amazed once I get on board being greeted by a passenger compartment that manages to combine comfort and practicality, thanks to the use of spaces and materials which confirm how much a Defender can make sense 365 days a year, regardless of whether you decide to launch yourself into a path covered in mud, or not. The model of my test is powered by the brand new mild-hybrid diesel engine, a 3-litre in-line 6-cylinder that houses a small electric unit, which, although it does not act as a proper electric motor, is just enough for registration and emission purposes. 249 horsepower drives the 2,300 kg weight of the Defender 90, which represents a completely different car compared to the 110, precisely in terms of dimensions that make it much more agile on paved road and above all off-road. The overall length of 4.3 meters (-44 centimeters compared to the 110) is in fact a fundamental aspect when you enter an unknown path, where even the GPS stops indicating tracks. As far as ground clearance concerns, thanks to the air suspension, it is possible to go from 216 mm to a maximum of 361, accentuating the angles (37.5 cm approach and 40 departure) and ramp-over (28 cm) values guaranteed by the short wheelbase. The spare wheel is there and hangs to the tailgate, so as not to sacrifice space under the chassis, with an all-aluminum body, another strong point of the new Defender compared to any SUV you can think of. The 3-liter then manages to deliver a maximum torque of 570 Nm at just 1,250 Nm, which translates into immediate progression on tarmac and the ability to get out of difficult situations, on rough paths. Finally, everything is managed by an 8-speed automatic transmission that permanently distributes traction on both axles.

I still recognize that old yellow house. Its bricks may have faded over the years, but they always keep that huge terrace on which I have always admired amazing Christmas decorations carefully arranged by that unknown family, but which in some way was part of my childhood. I take the first crossroads and walk along a first stretch of road which, although paved, is far from in good condition. The comfort of the passenger compartment keep extraordinary levels even here and once again I appreciate how direct the steering is, closer to that of an SUV than that of a real off-road vehicle. As soon as you place two fingers on it, the front wheels point in the desired direction and so, guiltily looking for some puddle of water left by the heavy rainfall of recent days, I start dirtying the bodywork of the 90. After all, part of the game is always some detail capable of exciting our inner child.

The main problem with the Defender 90 is the access to the rear seats, at least if you don’t enjoy Olympic agility. Mind you, it’s not impossible, but you have to learn how to do it. Once you understand how to position your feet and how to grab onto the handle it becomes a lot easier, but the absence of rear doors and the fact that the front seats slide forward, but do not disappear into thin air, could be one of the reasons why will make you prefer the long wheelbase to this more compact version. And then there is the trunk matter, with a truly negligible minimum load capacity of just 297 litres, which becomes 1,263, however renouncing the rear bench. Where some see a problem, others see an opportunity, after all I’m here alone – excluding the photographer sitting next to me – and with the sole aim of returning to where I spent some of the best afternoons of my childhood.

No more asphalt under the wheels, which despite their generous 20” dimensions fit tires with enough sidewall (60) to be able to tackle stones without fear of damaging them. There is nothing random here, after all the experience of a lifetime can be seen and felt. Gravel and mud enter the scene and, although not absolutely necessary, I begin to test the capabilities of the Terrain Response 2, which with its countless driving programs allows the car to adapt throttle response, traction and gearshift parameters in an optimal way to the grip offered by the ground under the wheels. By the way, at the rear there is also an active differential with electronic locking, something that can become useful later, when things are gonna get serious.

If I told you I haven’t traveled this road since I started noticing some beard on my face, I’d be lying, but the fact remains that it’s been nearly ten years since I last did it. After all, it is not possible to come here with a normal car, let alone reach my final destination. The Defender is a wonderful place to be, both because the raised seating position offers total visibility of what is around and also because the passenger compartment is equipped with a complete multimedia system arranged on two digital screens, the dynamic one facing the driver and the one in the center of the dashboard. My adventure in the muddy path of memories continues and I take advantage of the photo stops to get out of the car and breathe deeply the oxygen of a place that seems forgotten by the passage of time. I have to be honest, some work has been done to keep the road safe, but beyond this and a few small stone huts in an evident state of abandonment, there are no human traces for miles.

Finally I reach one of my favorite stretches, where the ceiling made of tangled branches opens up and lets a few rays of sunshine come in. The ground becomes stony and you have to pay attention to those sharper ones, dangerous for your tires, especially if you don’t have knobby rubber. There is a bend that goes up to the left and immediately after, with an even greater slope, one that goes up to the right. I stop the Defender, almost as if I wanted to put it to the test and, with disarming ease, it starts again without the slightest hint of skidding. I don’t think it will be easy to put it into troubles. A few kilometers later and continuing to climb in altitude, the vegetation becomes thicker again and gravel turns into mud.

We spot a couple of wild boars watching us curiously, the only living beings we’ve met since we left the main road down in the valley. We stop the car and turn off the engine to watch them look for some roots. Then they run off and get lost in the distance among the bare branches of this winter greenery. The tossing on board is minimal and this is thanks to a set-up that reads the roughness of the terrain well, to the full advantage of truly priceless comfort that I have rarely found even on equally premium off-road vehicles. It is undoubtedly one of the most evident strengths of this Land Rover, namely the skill to remain able to climb everywhere, but not for this renouncing qualities which, in addition to being fundamental on asphalt, also come in handy here in the most absolute nothingness.

And finally snow. Or rather, snow with some mud and ice. Once you reach the highest point – we are about 1,400 meters above sea level – the dense vegetation that does not allow the sun’s rays to filter, allows the road to be covered in mud and a few patches of snow. It’s the first time I’ve called into question the Terrain Response 2 in a more forceful way, as it’s not just about poor traction, but a point where the trail is very narrow and I don’t want the car to slide and hit some tree. Puddles have also formed and recall exhilarating water fording values (900mm), but in which you would never want to get stuck. This is why in these cases we tend to navigate, which means moving forward by constantly turning the steering wheel from side to side while keeping the engine revs high.

A crazy dive, as the water manages to cover the entire windshield and sides that at the end of the day will tell a lot about the place we were in. My predilection for places without roads (and people) is enhanced by a few hundred meters covered in snow, where the rumble of the 6-cylinder diesel dominates the progress of the wheels on that soft white surface. And while we leave our footprints and the wobbling of the mirror of dirty water behind, I’m getting ready to walk the last kilometers that will take me there where all this not only represents the best way to escape from the city, but the quintessential need to roam through a lost road in the woods. This is one of those rare cases where it’s not just a matter of destination or travel. It’s more on the level of personal experience, of an inner sensation that can take days to describe, but which change in meaning as soon as it comes out of our innermost self. It’s a matter of feeling, something that bites your stomach when after years you recognize the shape of that wooden cabin, identical to how it was when you barely reached the entrance handle.

The jubilation of emotions literally explodes thanks to a combination of factors that you would not have even imagined and which crystallize the moment into a blink of life that will remain indelible. Sometimes we tend to have a distorted memory of our myths, like those magical moments that characterized our childhood. Not this time, not thanks to the Defender, which attracts the rays of a sun filtering from behind a row of trees, just beyond the cabin that has seen afternoon snacks as precious as gold for a child who couldn’t wait to reach this place immersed in nothingness and in a silence broken only by the chirping of birds and some branches breaking in the distance, while an intrigued fox seems wanting to take a closer look at us and certainly at the Defender as well.

A handful of adventures cannot be lived lightly and if there was an off-roader suitable not only to bring me back here, but to exalt emotions left dormant for too many years, this was undoubtedly the most sensational Land Rover ever. It might sound redundant or subjective, but isn’t the journalist’s job to inform and then express an opinion? Here, regardless of the fact that our office has never lingered too much on numbers and tables which, after all, are the most aseptic things that can be found, I believe that the new Defender is confirmed to be that fabulous jewel that we welcomed in 2018 , at the arrival of a generation that had everyone against even before starting its glorious trip. It is a pleasure to drive it on road and even where there are no tire tracks, an objective value that consecrates it as the 4×4 suitable for every situation, but in reality it is what it transmits that allows it to keep its status of a timeless icon which transcends generations and eludes comparisons with anything else. If today, like yesterday and most probably like what awaits in the future, the goal is to get excited about an adventure in some wild place, the only choice is between a 90 and a 110, but still a Defender.

LAND ROVER DEFENDER 90 3.0 D6H

Engine 6 cylinder Mild-Hybrid Diesel, 2.996 cc Power 249 hp @ 4.000 rpm Torque 570 Nm @ 1.250 rpm

Traction All-Wheel-Drive Transmission 8-Speed Automatic Gearbox Weight 2.303 kg

0-100 kph 8 sec Top Speed 188 kph Price from€71.100 (€81.052 as tested)