Toyota LandCruiser Sahara 2006 Review

7-day Test

Over the last couple of decades, Toyota's LandCruiser has built an awesome reputation for indestructible build quality, bulletproof reliability, sky-high-resale value, opposition-crushing versatility and go-anywhere ability.

In short, it's one hell of a truck. And this is a point which Ford's latest Territory ad campaign highlights as being what's wrong with it -- it's a truck. Whether this ruse will sell any more Johnny-come-lately Falcon wagons-on-steroids remains to be seen.

If anything, the LandCruiser might be a victim of its own success -- it's grown steadily bigger, heavier, more powerful and thirstier. It's also become more luxurious, more comfortable, more expensive and, frankly, less truck-like.

The fact that so many are to be seen in school pick-up queues indicates how un-truck they really are -- contrary to what Ford would have us believe.

Out in the 'horse belt', every other float is being hauled by a Cruiser... I've yet to see a Territory doing that.

Sahara V8 is the top-of-the-range LandCruiser. True, there's a model that tops it but that wears a Lexus badge. That said the Sahara includes some pretty hi-tech goodies -- stuff like variable ratio steering, adjustable electronic suspension control, adjustable ride-height and traction control all lurk under the svelte metallic silver paint.

Personally, I can live without the electrically-adjustable steering column that dutifully winched itself out of the way every time the key was removed (a feature probably aimed at more girthy Americans) but luxury features like electric leather seats, tilt-and-slide glass sunroof, satellite navigation, trip computer, climate control, a fridge and floating-needle backlit instrumentation are nice to have.

Yet it is the engineered-in driving aids that work to make the Sahara both easier to drive on the street, and even more competent off it. Make no mistake, this is still a two-and-a-half tonne, 4.9m long, 1.94m wide and 1.85 high, yet that variable-ratio steering makes parking a breeze, electronic damper control and traction control makes loose surfaces seem like concrete and Toyota's legendary build quality kept the cabin dustproof, rattle-free and serene.

The suspension is adjusted by a four-position knob -- left for soft and compliant, right for firm and sporty. After starting off on the right, I quickly opted for the left, as the generally poor state of my local roads had the 'Cruiser thumping and bashing over botched surface repairs, manhole covers and tram lines. Although the stiffer setting made for a more precise cornering attitude when driving quickly, a Cruiser just isn't the car for pressing on. The greater compliance offered by the softer settings was also better on dirt roads too.

I fiddled with the ride-height control, but I couldn't discern any great change. In real chassis-twisters, or cresting fallen logs, the extra 50mm would come in handy, but mindful of that lustrous silver paint and $84,200 pricetag, I kept to the tracks and did no more than climb a two-metre bank and scoot up and down my local rutted, steep, gnarly, dusty, marble-strewn (and increasingly pot-holed) Major Rd -- which is anything but!

In high or low range, the implacable Cruiser went where it was pointed, found grip where there was none and hauled itself up, over and out of anything it was aimed at.

You never get the feeling that the electronics are sneering at your ability the way, say, a BMW X5 does. Rather the LandCruiser made progress like a wombat -- slowly, purposefully, deliberately and devoid of drama.

Before this sounds like a Toyota-sponsored advert, there are two aspects of the Cruiser which are less than perfect.

One -- the satellite navigation system -- has the potential to do more harm than good. In just the seven days of this evaluation, the system failed several times to plot accurate routes and on two occasions it made serious errors, including directing us down a non-existent road, across a field and into a creek. In daylight, it was an amusing interlude -- at night, it could have been far more serious.

In fairness, the SatNav system is an aid and doesn't pretend to replace the driver's brain but there are better systems out there.  I wouldn't pay any money at all for this one.

The other downside is, of course, fuel consumption. Not for nothing does Toyota squeeze 141 litres onboard the LandBruiser. Everything conspires against it: 4.7-litre, double overhead cam, 32-valve V8; a profile like a two-storey barn; four energy-sapping monster 275/65 x 17-inch tyres; and that two and a half tonne mass.

To add to the pain, Toyota has thoughtfully installed a trip computer on the dash. Set to display instantaneous consumption, some horrifying numbers flicked up -- a simple passing manoeuvre will rack up 60lt/100km-plus for a few moments, while trundling along in low range will see similar numbers displayed for much longer. Mostly, the numbers were in the low 20s and the final average was 22.5.

What this drops to with Dobbin in his horsefloat in tow doesn't bear thinking about!

These are not academic numbers -- think of them (aircraft or boat style) as dollars per hour to operate. It is the price you pay for moving a vehicle the size of a small apartment.

Another minor observation was that after just a few minutes on dry dirt roads the tail of the 'Cruiser was covered in dust. No surprises there, but the high-level brake light at the top of the tailgate was completely obscured and became invisible. The two main LED-equipped rear lights remained reasonably visible, however.

At night, the Cruiser puts out the sort of light that you'd expect to find on a Boeing -- great for illuminating the skippy that had a burning desire to cross my driveway Right Now!

What's not to like about the LandCruiser V8 Sahara? If you're on acreage or are into heavy-duty towing or just like your SUV high, wide and handsome, it'll probably just be the cost of operating it...