Next week, poor old Dan has to go to New York to view the new
Range Rover Sport
. Apparently, part of the off-road track they’re setting up over there involves a live window tinter in an as-yet unrevealed role, though Dan confirms that journalists attending the launch have each been issued with a ceremonial set of titanium nutcrackers.
What with Land Rovers relentlessly moving up through the social strata, the old adage that ‘there’s no such thing as a cheap Landie’ is becoming as true for the new models as it already is for the old ones, for whom it was originally coined, like the Discovery V8 you see here.
The no-nonsense vendor hasn’t exactly gone overboard on the photography, but even through a glass darkly she looks workmanlike. But, being a top o’ the range ES model, she comes with “sand brown leather” – untorn, if a little worn – along with the other luxury bits and bobs like the CD changer and (non-functional) aircon that lifted the Disco one step nearer to the Range Rover.
This car’s highish price is presumably justified by the lowish mileage, but is it worth it? The Disco was designed as a 3-door, as the foot-trappingly short rear door bottoms on 5-doors like this one indicate only too clearly. Still, at least that means less metal to disintegrate. The phrase “no rot” in an ad for a 90s Discovery feels like it should be accompanied by the ambrosial trillings of a heavenly choir. Shed stands to be corrected, but a rot-free Disco of this vintage is about as commonly encountered as a cheerful Premiership footballer. The boot floors routinely disappear as a result of water ingress through either one of the twin sunroofs or those ‘Alpine’ windows. Best practice, therefore, is to put only the less-loved members of your family in the back two seats. If they do fall through the floor, then as long as they’re not jockeys, they should stop when they hit the chassis members beneath.
Rusty Disco boot floors only become a structural issue if the rot spreads. They can become an MOT issue before that, though, if the tester thinks your travelling companions are in danger of being gassed by the exhaust fumes percolating up through the fine lattice doily that was once a sturdy piece of opaque metal. A sheet of aluminium bolted in there will get you back on the road, and your rellies back off it. Inner and outer sills, inner wings and the back wheel arches will also need a good old poke with your dibber.
Any other issues? Fuel consumption. There’s no LPG conversion here, and at £2,000 or so for a decent installation there’s very little point in going down that route, and no point at all for true Shedmen who have no truck with the concept of long-term vehicle ownership. Instead, you’ll simply have to psych yourself up for frequent petrol station visits. Best method there is to convince yourself that the thing is only doing 8mpg. That way, the reality of 12-15mpg will seem like a blessed relief. Shed motoring is all in the mind.
Here's how she... erm... could look?
Cheap V8 Discos should always be snapped up though, as the powertrain will go on finding new homes long after its first one has been recycled. The character of the engine is a big part of this car’s appeal. Outright power is not high – PH Essentials quotes the factory’s claim of 182hp, a figure that puts a cynical smile on Shed’s grizzled old face – but then the level of mechanical stress isn’t high either. Sure, Landies leak oil, but not terminally unless you ignore it. Sure, they handle like jelly, but a new set of poly bushes can work wonders.
The list of things that could go wrong is potentially still as long as a Cypriot investor’s face, but sticking to a servicing regime will shorten that list considerably. Most of the metal bits can be fixed with a Swiss Army knife, some nose hair clippers and a lump hammer. Parts prices are often stupidly cheap too. The reliable operation of windows, locks, and doorhandles originally seen in the Morris Marina is not something you would want to bet your house on.
Owning any old Land Rover is a labour of love. They’re bought in spite of their foibles, or even (if you’re really badly smitten) because of them. That’s why Shed would only pay anywhere near the full asking price for this one if it came with a full 12 months MOT. If such a deal could be done, then he would be a happy man because he knows just how useful a comfy old girl like the Disco can be around the yard, on the busted-up country lanes that were once this country’s major trunk roads, and in the mud. They’ll get through just about anything, up to and possibly including your wallet. Each and every mile you put under its wheels could easily cost you 50p in unleaded alone. That’s a sobering thought, so make sure you’re nicely drunk when you ring up to make your offer.
3 Months Tax
7 Months MOT (1 advisory - slight play o/s/f hub)
107k miles
Good tyres
A few dinks and marks on the exterior. It wouldn't win a beauty contest but wouldn't come last either.
Good interior - sand brown leather, no rips, little signs of wear
Air con needs a re-gas
One sun roof doesn't work but neither leak, hence dry interior and no rot
Waxoiled chassis
7 seats (one missing electric adjustment switch but still works)
Full DIY service 1 year ago including oil, air, fuel and gearbox filters, leads, , plugs, dizzy cap and arm. less than 4k miles ago
CD changer
Button missing from radio but still works
A good old tool but selling as it's a fourth car and doesn't get used