BEHIND THE WHEEL: The new DMAX is a fine mesh of old and new and a smooth drive

There is sand everywhere, but most importantly, there is what looks like all the sand in the world under my press demonstrator. I’m not moving, and the sand in the air is the direct result of the rooster tails I shoot up as I try to unweld myself from the uncompromising desert environment. I am stuck, and wheelspin is not helping me. Neal, my upbeat co-driver and budding cameraman, cheerfully gets on the gong to let our hosts know that this motor vehicle is going nowhere.

I am in a fleet of Isuzu KB300 DTEQ LX cars, what we call the DMAX, in Walvis Bay, right at the point where the Namib Desert meets the Atlantic Ocean. To the left is nothing but desert, to the right is nothing but open sea. There might be oil rigs and the odd ship. To the front is a road that might be tarmacked (speed limit: 100km/h), and to the back is the rest of the convoy. We are threading our way through the biggest sandstorm I have ever seen.

THE CAR

Now, to the new DMAX, which is not so new. The reason I was in the desert was because the car has just received a facelift, and we were there to try the new look (new foglamps, addition of daytime running lights).

Does the facelift work?

Only if you look hard enough. The DRLs are what you’ll notice first because, well,  they glow during the day. The bumper calls for a keener eye to notice the changes, and in the process you might notice that the headlamps, though similar in appearance, are actually quite different. In short, yes the facelift works.

WHAT I LIKE ABOUT THE CAR

1. I like the new look. It moves forward GM’s traditionally conservative design language without treading on anyone’s toes. So the DMAX looks good for what it is. Leave the flashy bodywork for mall-crawling saloon cars, this is meant to be a work truck.

2. The car is a lot more comfortable. It is  a lot more roomy than the previous generation DMAX. Rear legroom, in particular, is very impressive and the seats are not as hard. Suspension optimisation is also  higher,  such that bumps, rumble strips and the general unevenness of the ground is better isolated from the occupants’ skeletons. It might not be at Navara-levels of smooth, but it is smooth all the same. It is so much better than the previous model that we had to physically confirm it still stood on leaf springs at the back, and not coils.

3. Refinement: the DMAX/KB feels a lot less lorry-like than before. Don’t get me wrong; the engine is still gruff to the point of raucousness at 3000 rpm and beyond, but keep it below 3k and all will be well. You won’t even need more than that unless you are dune-bashing (to be explained later*). Fit and finish have also been improved and for the first time the interior of the DMAX looks like something out of the 21st Century. There is a screen, Bluetooth connectivity, a USB port and an iPod dock. There is even a slot for your micro SD card if your fingers are deft enough to wiggle it into the nook. The instrument cluster is a mesh of analogue and digital: the clocks are analogue (speedo and tach) while the fuel gauge and gear indicator are digitally displayed on a tiny screen at the centre of the cluster. In what looks like a Range Rover knock-off, the markings on the clocks have glass inserts that are strongly reminiscent of the Evoque’s own bejewelled diamond dash.

4. Sound system: this was a pleasant surprise, but the thumping stereo really does thump. It is miles ahead of what I have experienced in any other pickup. Combine this with ease of use of the entire system via the touch-screen interface and any trip inside this car becomes enjoyable for all aboard.

5. Fuel economy: Average figures were quoted at 14-15 km/l, though it was not easy to get an accurate return while thrashing across the sand with no top-ups. What I know is, roughly 200km, most of which were spent spinning wheels in 4WD and at high revs only yielded the smallest of dips in the fuel gauge level. There goes one of the biggest pains ever for the Kenyan motorist alleviated.

6. Pricing:  The DMAX undercuts the competition at the moment almost Sh 1 million. Is the difference justifiable? No. This was best expressed by a South African colleague whose shock was palpable after we told him exactly how much a million Kenya shillings translates to in rands.

7. Perfect mesh of the old and the new: there is this mindset that the more mechanical and analogue the automotive experience, the better. I don’t necessarily agree: I still believe an autobox is the best for off-roading over a manual. I, however, agree with the fact that less electronic intrusiveness and computer gimmickry makes for a better overall driving experience, especially when it comes to locking your own diffs. The DMAX covers all this. You can have it with either a manual transmission or a traditional auto with manual override.

While costlier fare comes with preset parameters (called Terrain Response) in the DMAX, you still have to select between 2WD and 4WD yourself, and high range and low range. No need for a lever – there is a rotary dial in the centre console for that. It increases the sense of involvement in the exercise while at the same time simplifying it, as opposed to simply pushing buttons and waiting for the car to drive itself. The beauty of the system is that one can shift from 2WD to 4WD at speeds as high as 115km/h, but only for high range. To engage low range, you need to stop, and that will never change. Throttle response is more immediate too, which might indicate the lack of an electronic throttle. The DMAX is quite good off-road, but with nothing more than chunky rubber and a lift kit, it will transform into one of the most veritable of Rhino Charge-class off-road vehicles at par with Landcruisers and Land Rovers.

WHAT I DIDN’T LIKE

1. The car still feels agricultural to some extent. The noise becomes really egregious above 3000rpm, and if you use it as  was intended, you might stray to that engine speed or more once in a while, in which case prepare for some irritation. The manual option, while creamed with the oiliest clutch action one’s left foot could ever desire, is marred by a slightly ropey gear change, especially going into first. Snapshifts will not exactly be your friend, until you get used to the car. The automatic really is the better transmission here.

2. It took us a while to locate the USB porting and iPod docking. They have been squirrelled away in some deep recess at the bottom of the centre console with no clear markings, unless you really squint, and to make matters worse, they have these silly plastic covers that require a fish hook to disengage. Nobody told me to bring a fish hook with me, so the trip was spent with my music stick in my  pocket. The micro SD slot is also fairly pointless. I can see the need for it (utilisation as a surrogate hard drive, which other cars have inbuilt in them but the DMAX doesn’t) but who owns a standalone SD card apart from dedicated photographers?

My suggestion would be to shift the USB port to where the SD card slot is and forget the whole SD thing. Speaking of phones, the perennial pain that is Bluetooth connection is present here too; connecting your phone is still a bit of a hit-and-miss, though to GM’s credit, this was a lot less of a hassle in their KB as compared to other more expensive vehicles.

3. The rear doors: they are weighted and shut with a heavily damped and muffled thud, which is quite impressive and evocative of a top-of-the-line Mercedes Benz, until you realise they are not actually shut, so you have to slam them. We might  have spent a considerable amount of time driving in the desert with doors that were almost ajar, which is fine when belted up and driving in a sea of sand but could be hazardous in the more realistic world of narrow streets and two-way traffic.

SUMMARY

Toyota rules the roost in terms of sales and kerb appeal by virtue of reputation. The Ford Ranger comes a close second and is about to overthrow the Japanese truck as king of the hill. The Mitsubishi L200 was, and still is, anonymous as to get skipped in almost every conversation involving double-cab pickups. The Volkswagen Amarok still sports the new-kid-on-the-block patina that keeps the wary at arm’s length. The Nissan Navara... well, let me stop here for a moment and change tack.

All this means nothing because the double-cab war that surfaces every now and then in this column just shifted gear. All these pickups now have new versions, or are about to. With the exception of the new DMAX, which has been around for some time, Toyota has a new Hilux (whose launch they keep promising to invite us to but nothing seems to be happening), Ford has a new Ranger (but for some reason they have sworn I will never touch any of their cars), Volkswagen has a new Amarok with a more realistic 3.0 litre engine (the 2.0 litre sounds like the work of fiction) and is yet to reach these shores while  Nissan will launch a new Navara in November, in which I will get first dibs in yet another desert in Morocco. That means we will not be doing a comparison just yet, until all the new vehicles are sampled. For now, let the DMAX be the standard against which the rest will be measured.

That said, some projections can be made. Expect the DMAX to undercut the field in price, with the probable exception of the L200 and of course, the Chinese. Expect the new Amarok to have the classiest interior of the pack, and probably pack the meanest punch in terms of engine output. Expect the new Hilux to be unbreakable, a trait it shares with the DMAX, while costing  more.

Finally, expect the Navara to bring more of what it already sports: comfort and handling like an executive saloon, with just a touch of flimsiness. This is especially likely because rumors abound that Mercedes-Benz is entering the double-cab game as well, and theirs will be nothing different from a reskinned Navara, so it follows that the engineering Nissan puts into it has to be worthy of German scrutiny.

WOULD I BUY ONE?

Why not? The simple reason can best be summarised thus: there is nothing the Hilux will do that the DMAX won’t. But the price difference between the two is huge: the Hilux just seems to get more and more expensive while the DMAX maintains its understated, open-secret, smart-choice status. I could easily live with this car, and then some; especially once I buy a fish hook and manage to plug in my USB music stick.

OKAY, THANKS. THAT WAS REALLY...

Hold on a minute, I’m not done yet. Remember some of my earlier observations about the DMAX over its stability or the lack thereof? There was a video clip of one toppling over on live television and another one threw me into the undergrowth during the Great Run 4X4. These issues have been addressed with the introduction of traction control and stability management systems which are on by default, making the car as tractable as you’d like it to be. To disengage the traction control, just tap the button (conveniently located near the steering column where only the driver can reach it) once; to disengage both traction control and stability management, you have to tap and hold the button for  eight seconds. No room for mistakes here. Once off, and with the transfer case in 2 High, it is a case of wheeee!!.... wheelspin and sideways action on a loose surface. Fun, if you know what you are doing.

HOW TO DRIVE ON SAND

The Namib Desert was my third major sandpit ever, after the Sahara and the Kalahari in that order. While I have driven on sand before, as well as done dune-climbing, none of it has been to this scale. To tackle it, one needed preparation.

1. Your apparel: You are better off in Gideon boots rather than sports shoes. Ordinary shoes tend to sink in the sand, which makes walking tiring and the sand gets in your shoes, making you uncomfortable. Of course, you need sunglasses too to battle the glare of the sun and its reflection, particularly in a sand storm where everything goes white and you get dazzled in short order. I learnt this the hard way. For most deserts, you need light, bright clothing to keep cool but in the Namib close to the coast, you might  wind up in a jumper; there is a gale that feels like the sort of Harmattan that hardens foofoo much further to the north of this place: very cold, very strong and unrelenting.

2. The car: Deflate the tyres. Drop the standard tarmac pressures to less than half what you normally use: in our case, it was down from 1.8 psi to 0.8.  The thinking behind this is that a slightly deflated tyre has a longer footprint that increases its contact area, enabling it to float on the sand. To the off-roading know-it-alls out there: lowering tyre pressure does not widen the tyre footprint, it lengthens it. It’s the sidewalls that bulge, meaning the width of the tyre is unaffected, bit along with the sidewalls, the effective length of the tyre circumference in contact with the ground also increases, and this is what we are interested in. You will also need the car to be in 4WD the entire time (4-Hi mostly unless you get stuck, in which case 4-Lo comes in handy). Most interestingly, one wants the traction control off, because…

3. Make yourself uncomfortable: You have to, literally. Move your seat forward until you feel like you are too close to the wheel. You’ll need to because when ascending a 1:1 slope at wide open throttle, the last thing you want is to slide back into your seat like you are riding a cheap roller-coaster and thus cede control of your little off-roader. You don’t want to cede control at that moment. Both hands on the wheel, elbows at a 90-degree angle.

*Next time: what happened on the dunes