Testing The Pajero

Little did we know there was a w-h-o-l-e lot of water just waiting for us...

The South Australian Flinders Ranges; an area rich in scenery, wildlife and off-road tracks - and the perfect place for us to try out the new NM-model Mitsubishi Pajero...

From Wilpena Pound, the first leg started with a wide semi-sealed road, before Mellissa and I progressed onto the pitted and dusty tracks that make up most of the roads in this arid but spectacularly beautiful area. Probably the most breathtaking view we saw along this track was glimpsed from atop a narrow mountain ridge, which - according to the Pajero's digital altimeter - towered 650m above sea level. Spectacular stuff. It was only when I stepped out to take a photo that I noticed that the weather had changed slightly. The dry heat was gone - instead there was unfamiliar moisture in the air, accompanied by some distant thunder crashes. Still, it was nothing to worry about...

From the mountain ridge we descended into the valley, the terrain getting more and more rugged. Deep corrugations were making the leading edge of the dashboard shake violently and a couple new dash rattles also became audible. Still, the Pajero tracked absolutely beautifully - despite the fact that everything was copping a real pounding. Our downward spiral finally ended when we arrived at the foot of a rocky, dry creek bed, and stopped to take another quick pic. Again - when out of the vehicle - I noticed that the weather had continued to change. Heavy cloud cover was giving the valley an eerie darkness, and it had also begun to drizzle... Hmm.

A little further along the track, we noticed that the red soil now had a slippery sheen to it. Just moments later, we mounted a small crest - and then slid down the other side very, very sideways... It was lucky that we were carrying only modest pace; an armful of opposite-lock snatched the $50,620 Pajero from the clutches of one of the many trackside River Red Gums. I took this as a warning and elected to slip the 'box into the serious 4LLc mode. It was time proceed with utmost caution...

Barely 5 minutes later all hell broke loose.

The dense clouds covering the area opened up, dumping a fearsome amount of rainfall which the Pajero's wipers - even on full-bore - simply couldn't clear. Then - almost instantly - we were struck by the huge water run-off cascading down from the mountainous surroundings. We were caught at a mere 200m elevation; the landscape around us between 400 and 550m. Sheets of water slid down from all directions and the track starting to become immersed. To make matters even worse, the rain and mud splattering the windscreen made seeing where we were meant to be going quite impossible.

And then it started to hail.

Hard.

With visibility nil, I buzzed down the driver's window and stretched my head outside, only to notice that - even on the flat - the water level was creeping up against the Pajero's 16-inch alloys and 70 series rubber. We had to keep moving and get to higher ground; stopping here and waiting for it all to blow over didn't seem like a good idea at all. Suddenly I knew - first hand - what a flash flood was really like ... So, with next to zero visibility, I did my best. Driving with my head out the window, drenched to the core, I drank probably a gallon of the putrid mud-water that was thrown up from the front of the vehicle. Still, there was no time for whining - this was serious stuff. Poor Mellissa looked terrified and - as she told me later - was even having visions of being swept away... never to be seen again...

After what seems like an age, we crawled up to a creek crossing. This one certainly wasn't dry - it was flowing a bloody torrent! But I was confident the Pajero could punch its way through. I pushed the Mitsubishi up to the white-water crossing and - sure enough - with a fair bit of wiggle-wiggle and some careful throttling, it squirmed its way to the other side. Those conventional-style 265/70 Yokohama Geolanders had really worked a wonder.

With no time to waste, we continued to climb up a gentle but lengthy rise - still with my head hung out in the appalling weather. Thankfully, though, things were starting to look up for us - at least we had now gained a lot of elevation... We arrived at a lookout point that looked like a good place to seek shelter. I turned in, parked and switched off. The best thing to do now was wait for the weather and the streams of water to pass by. God only knew what kind of ground was waiting for us further down the track - maybe the track just headed straight back down into the flash flood zone...

And going back there again didn't seem like a real hot idea...

Testing the Pajero's fording capabilities was a long way from entering either of our minds while we stood topping up the vehicle's 90-litre fuel tank that morning. In fact, we were feeling nothing more than the anticipation of a good (safe!) adventure when we set off on the route to the Flinders. The sun was poking through some high-level cloud, the ranges lay against the horizon and entertainment came courtesy of Triple J (the only FM signal strong enough to get picked up on the Mitsubishi's CD/tuner sound system). The vehicle itself did it easily; the engine spinning at only 2100 rpm per 100 km/h, and its slick 5-speed auto tranny making the most of the available 140kW when passing.

Everything was s-w-e-e-t.

Once past the Port Augusta power station, we turned off and headed northwest towards the small town of Quorn - the vehicle's on-board LCD compass providing us with directional guidance at all times. Although expecting to pull in for only a quick break, we ended up poking our heads into the tourist information building. Here, a charismatic elderly woman - who'd probably lived in the area all her life - latched onto us and filled us with info on where to go and what to see. (Though she didn't mention anything about flash flooding...) Eventually leaving with our wings crammed full of tourism brochures, we again sprung ourselves up into the Pajero's high front seats in search of these "rubber neck" tourist attractions along the rest of the way to the Flinders.

Keen to get the Pajero filthy dirty, we soon hooked a left turn off the highway down a dirt out-road to the scenic Warren Gorge. With loose terrain in our sights, it was time to move from constant 4WD and engage the high-range centre diff lock. Yee-ha. Happy that we were finally now kicking up some dust, we wound the Pajero up to around 110-120 on the unsealed road. The vehicle (which is actually the first Pajero with a monocoque chassis) felt beautifully stable and supremely safe under these conditions - which was a nice change after enduring its wallowy understeer characteristics in the city... At these speeds, we quickly caught an on-the-run group of emus that'd somehow escaped the confines of the wire fences on both sides of the track. Both Mellissa and I thought it fun to be driving along next to them, but - no doubt - the emus didn't find it equally as enjoyable. After stealing a quick snapshot, we accelerated off down the track and left them in peace.

Having now switched ourselves into full tourist mode, we headed in the direction of another local site of interest - Hugh Proby's grave. The fact that Proby drowned crossing a flooded local creek while trying to save livestock didn't seem all that significant to us at the time.... Rather, we were too busy finding some more rough ground to punch the Pajero over. Much to our delight, the adjoining dirt and rock track got a little tougher and it wasn't long before we'd fronted a creek crossing - the first one complete with water flowing through it. Woo-hoo - it was time to slop some mud on top of those dusty panels! But before tackling the creek, I first had to make sense of the extensive 4WD engagement sticker on the front door trim. Following the instructions, I slipped the transfer lever into 4LLc (the ultra-serious low-range 4WD with the centre diff locked) and eased the Pajero through the crossing - mindful of keeping momentum and a steady throttle.

The Mitsubishi went through completely unfazed, with the water roaring out from the wheel arches and up over the windscreen. It was a blast. Then, as the early afternoon rolled on, we had no choice but to crank up the Mitsubishi's powerful air-con system to contend with the increasing temperature and burning sunrays. Soon after, during the height of this searing heat, we arrived at the base of a huge hill - this yellow sign giving warning of its extra-steep angle. Uh oh. I wondered if we'd be able to make it up without having to get out and push... But with its 303Nm of torque available at 3500 rpm, the 3.5 litre V6 Pajero clawed its way up without the slightest of fuss.

Continuing on, we joined part of the Heysen Trail track - which led us directly on to our destination at Hawker. This was pretty much more of the same - dirt, small rocks and dry creek beds. One moment worthy of mention, however, was when the Pajero crept up onto a gravely shoulder at about 80 km/h and the back-end skewed out a little. It was nothing major though, with the vehicle's immense traction instantly pulling the chassis back into line. For sure, it'd be pretty hard to lose a Pajero in these kind of conditions.

At about 5:30pm we finally arrived at Hawker - a small farming/stock town established in 1880, now with a bustling population of 490 (on a good day!). Thankfully, it looked like a great place for us to crash for the next couple of nights, and there were plenty of food, drink and petrol supplies. So long as you bought them before everything closed doors at 7pm! Oh, and you could even go for a camel ride here too...

The following day - with increased confidence in the vehicle and more feel for the terrain - I started to get the Pajero really hooking along some of the Flinder's rocky and dusty tracks. There is a lot of off-road speed to be extracted from the big Mitsu - so much so that on the way to the day's first destination at Sacred Canyon, we reeled in a fully decked-out late-model Nissan Patrol in absolutely no time flat.

As we hurtled through a series of large dips, we could feel the Pajero's suspension moving from its full bump position right up through its rebound - there's 270mm of total travel available! Certainly, its front and rear skid plates must have come s-o close to the ground, yet the chassis remaining amazingly composed the whole time.

Incredibly, it was only a few hours later that those pleasant blue skies turned to grey and the desert downpour put us amongst raging floodwaters.... The immediacy of this transformation is truly hard to describe. Thankfully, though, much of that vast quality of water disappeared almost as quickly as it had arrived, and around 20 minutes after experiencing sheer terror, we arrived back at the Wilpena Pound complex - and the comfort of civilisation. But we weren't going to hang around in this area... no way! Instead, we made a beeline straight back for our cabin at Hawker - oddly enough, neither of us felt all that adventurous anymore...

As darkness descended on the glistening plains, the faithful Pajero's massive halogen headlights made it easy for me to see our path along the bitumen highway - despite the dried-up mud that was scratching my eyes... And during the journey back, both of us had plenty of time to reflect and talk about the day's amazing events. The severity of the rainfall, the timeframe that it all took place and - most frequently - we kept coming back to how well the Pajero had coped with the treacherous conditions.

This is exactly the kind of environment the Pajero is built for. And it's bloody good when it's working in it...

www.mitsubishi-motors.com.au

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