Fully indulged marketing speak isn’t what you visit PistonHeads for, we’re well aware. You don’t hear us to waffling on about ‘ultimate driving machines’ while fearlessly assessing a BMW XM on your behalf. But to mark 25 years of its much (much) littler cousin’s existence, we simply had to break the rules and head out on – yep – a Mini adventure.
Those mischievous telly ads which played out at the beginning of the new-age Mini’s existence (way back in 2001!) were a bundle of fun, of course. Crucially, the car they flogged proved just as merry and it’s fair to assume a very high percentage of PHers have owned at least one BMW-gen Mini in the quarter century that’s since passed. Celebrating the same birthday is Plant Oxford, which arose from the ashes of the old Cowley facility to start pumping out those early Mini Coopers in April 2001.
So we’ve eschewed the Chinese-built electric Minis and stuck with pure combustion for our road trip, though rather than potter slowly around Oxfordshire ring roads we’ve pointed their cartoonish headlamps at something a little more beguiling: the Tyrol region of the Alps. A chance to really wring out their famed playfulness (avoiding any ‘go-kart handling’ clichés, I promise…) while also mimicking a deleted Italian Job scene. Just without the cars plummeting mercilessly into the rocky valley below…
Jumping into a John Cooper Works for the first leg out of Innsbruck is a no-brainer, even if this striking 1965 Victory Edition isn’t ultimately destined for UK shores. Shame: red ‘n’ white feels like perfect Mini styling fodder and it’s a cute pantomime act upon a car that was never been shy in the first place. Its collection of mods over a standard JCW – Rolls-Royce-inspired self-centring wheel caps, its 3D-printed key and steering wheel details, plus a bold bunch of decals – represents a simple but effective formula we can expect from several Mini specials to come.
Innsbruck is a wonderful place to travel into, whether by car from Munich or gazed at mouth agape through the window of a plane (just beware a windy landing as you dip between the mountain tops). It’s also just as bewitching to leave, and after picking up the JCW from the local Mini dealer, I put in minimal motorway miles before peeling off towards Kühtai, a ski resort in the winter and a picture-postcard of a destination with the snow (mostly) melted and its green, verdant scenery uncloaked. The roads around here offer everything: hairpins, 90-degree corners and quicker, more flowing bends, all perfectly surfaced to ensure the stiff little Mini takes it all in its stride.
With 231hp, 280lbft and a 1.4-tonne kerb weight, the JCW is quite a mature thing nowadays, a point hammered home by its sole option of a seven-speed DCT ‘box. I’ve learned to love it – what other choice do we have, when hot hatch rivals are in desperately short supply? – though it feels most satisfying left to its own devices. With the powertrain notched into its sportier mode but the gearbox left in D (rather than S) it picks its ratios smartly and you can more intimately engage with the sweeping roads laid before its striped nose. This place could only feel more dramatic if it were painted Hot Wheels orange and had loop-the-loops installed.
The tarmac wends you through forests, past sweeping dams and through the sort of sun-dappled tunnels I first witnessed driving Deep Forest Raceway in early iterations of Gran Turismo. Then it’s through the bougie town of Sölden and towards our main destination: the glorious Timmelsjoch toll road. Much like many of the great mountain passes, though, the leading you there leaves a more startling impression. Route 186 from Sölden to Hochgurgl lingers in my memory from an early evening blat along here in a GTI Clubsport S almost a decade ago, the Golf’s tail subtly dancing through the chicanes. It’s not a headbanger of a road and you’ll often find it peppered with traffic, albeit all travelling with reasonable momentum – its unintentional lead cars allowing stolen glances at the scenery rather than a laser-focused gaze into the distance. The Mini ain’t as majestic as the VW along here, but its agility is evident.
However much it’s grown – both physically and philosophically – a Mini still feels right at home on fantastic roads like these. The countless supercar clubs tearing up and down look a little silly in comparison, squeezing perilously through narrower sections while the JCW simply laps everything up. The caveat is we’re on warm, dry and relatively smooth tarmac; this car remains something of a bucking bronco back on gnarlier British roads. The steering satisfies, though, and heck, is this a fast car nowadays. Still, I’m wringing out a significantly greater portion of its performance than those in the 296s, GT3s and Huracans around me. And when I eventually stop for a breather and a phone snap of the scenery, I can expect cheery hellos from the hikers and cyclists rather than a compelling desire to skulk away in the cabin ‘til the lay-by’s clear.
The toll booth for Timmelsjoch (it’s €20 one-way, €28 return) is neighboured by a beguiling motorcycle museum and café, though a quick coffee stop is all I need given what lies beyond its barriers. The Austrian side of the road feels pure theme park, with long straights, sweeping bends and a rapid climb to its 2,509m peak through a series of hairpins. The latter frustrates in the JCW – you can bung it into corners like any old Works Mini, eliciting some modest tyre squeal as its rear begins to rotate, but the DSC keeps things very tidy indeed even when it’s supposedly turned off. A sign of time having moved on from some of the madder Mini specials.
Over the peak, you cross the Italian border – switching to the road’s Passo del Rombo moniker – and a slower, less gratifying descent through slimmer, more treacherous turns and one tight hairpin after another. Pity the Winnebago ahead carving five-point turns to negotiate the most acute bends. Epic views, mind. This slower pace is also a fine chance to cool the brakes and reflect on the car. Its engine note is drab, the gearbox just a bit too slushy for a proper hot hatch and its handling not as extrovert as it could be, yet I’ve grown to like this F66 JCW nonetheless. I feel unburdened in a car like this on roads like these. I’m contractually obliged to still pine for a manual ‘box, of course.
Taking us to our hotel is another fine, and rather underrated road: the Jaufenpass. For this I switch into a Mini Cooper S 5-Door, one adorned with white paint and a John Cooper Works styling kit to appear far more fetching than I remember these things looking. The back doors are still oddly stunted and it doesn’t possess the chintzy charm of the base 3-door, but with no base Ford Focus to light up the British sales charts, perhaps this can be the agile family hatch so many of us crave.
Its performance puts it off to a very good start: 204hp and 221lb ft peaks are on par with the Hyundai i20N I own and which the enthusiast world still covets, while its 6.8-second 0-62mph time doesn’t lag too far behind given its extra weight and complexity. There’s little to distinguish it from the JCW inside and much like Matt B, I find this an impressively premium place to be and mostly adore its enormous circular screen. Knowing there’s a mite more practicality behind you, however scant, is a nice feeling too. Back seats up, the boot volume grows by 65 litres. With ‘em folded, the gap widens further, 925 litres playing 725.
A shared engine and platform ensure it’s hardly a big leap from F66 Works to F65 Cooper S, and the less wrought ride and reactions of this subtler, more sensible car make it a great partner for a road that’s breathless when driven at pace. It’s a forearm workout, the Jaufenpass; after a languid run up from its base through a sprawling run of hairpins, you’re suddenly flick-flacking left and right like your evening’s dinner depends on it. The Cooper S is better out of Go-kart Mode to yield its lighter, more natural steering setup. And once again there’s a sense – if not an outright demonstration – of it working both its axles hard through each corner.
Good car, this, and a reminder that a bread-and-butter five-door hatchback with a decent chassis is one of the car world’s most pleasant surprises. The road beneath has delivered a similarly welcome treat, packing more turns into its 22 miles than just about any I’ve previously driven. Every Alpine adventure should take a detour here, so long as you’re in something suitably slim for its narrower sections. I doubt a conga line of supercars would have enjoyed as much of a ball. Indeed, for all its growing up during 25 years on this planet, the modern Mini still stands proud of the market for its impish size and attitude. Though just to be sure, I’ll wake up early tomorrow and repeat our trip in reverse. A very happy birthday indeed.
SPECIFICATION | 2026 MINI JOHN COOPER WORKS
Engine: 1,998cc four-cylinder turbo
Transmission: 7-speed dual-clutch automatic, front-wheel drive
Power (hp): 231@5,000-6,000rpm
Torque (lb ft): 280@1,500-4,000rpm
0-62mph: 6.1 seconds
Top speed: 155mph
Weight: 1,405kg
MPG: 41.5-43.5 (WLTP combined)
CO2: 147-154g/km
Price: from £33,550
SPECIFICATION | 2026 MINI COOPER S 5-DOOR
Engine: 1,998cc four-cylinder turbo
Transmission: 7-speed dual-clutch automatic, front-wheel drive
Power (hp): 204@5,000-6,500rpm
Torque (lb ft): 221@1,450-4,500rpm
0-62mph: 6.8 seconds
Top speed: 150mph
Weight: 1,430kg
MPG: 44.1-44.8 (WLTP combined)
CO2: 142-144g/km
Price: from £29,540
1 / 18