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Rapid response: can the Maserati MC20 make a good roadside recovery car?

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Rapid response: can the Maserati MC20 make a good roadside recovery car? | Top Gear

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Ever had a long wait for a recovery van? Top Gear to the rescue... with a slightly reduced toolkit

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Rapid response: can the Maserati MC20 make a good roadside recovery car?

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Ever had a long wait for a recovery van? Top Gear to the rescue... with a slightly reduced toolkit

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Rapid response: can the Maserati MC20 make a good roadside recovery car?

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Ever had a long wait for a recovery van? Top Gear to the rescue... with a slightly reduced toolkit

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Rapid response: can the Maserati MC20 make a good roadside recovery car?

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Rapid response: can the Maserati MC20 make a good roadside recovery car?

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Ever had a long wait for a recovery van? Top Gear to the rescue... with a slightly reduced toolkit

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Of course it's a Disco. It's always a Disco. First call out of the day and I’m first on the scene. That was the plan of course, and it’s worked a treat. Now, what had Dominic told me it was likely to be? Ah, that’s right, it’s a Land Rover, therefore... almost anything: blown turbo, glitchy electrics, belts, water pump, front diff, front wheel hubs, air suspension, cracked engine block...

I open up the MC20’s toolkit. It contains a towing eye. Nothing else. Hmm. Hang about, Dominic shoved a chunky battery starter pack in the Maserati’s footwell earlier, seeing as battery issues account for about 20 per cent of callouts. I connect it up. Much clicking, no life. And that’s me done, out of ideas. All I’m good for right now is tea and sympathy. My shoulders sink as I realise I left my flask at the hotel this morning. I smile wanly at the beleaguered Disco driver, “At least the sun’s out...”

We’ve all heard the horror stories, people waiting for hours for the recovery services to turn up, stranded on the hard shoulder of the M40 for two hours (that’ll be me), broken down in roadworks on the M4 after a piston went through the block (also me). How to solve this? Get to people faster, duh. Where some would suggest more patrol vans, Top Gear suggests speed. We’ve built the AA a rapid response vehicle.

Photography: Olgun Kordal

Well, I say built, but what we’ve actually done is livery up Maserati’s 620bhp mid-engined supercar, sucker some lights on top and headed off to help one of the UK’s most remote patrols cover his Highland patch. My thinking was that he must have a huge area to cover and on these corking roads I could get from one end of the Highlands to the other a mite faster than a 113bhp Ford Transit. True though that may be, it’s not how it works. Instead a 62-mile radius is drawn around the patrol’s front door and that, literally, is their sphere of influence.

Dominic Carroll has been an AA patrol for eight years. Like most others he was a mechanic first, a Gold level Vauxhall tech who fancied a change. After a month’s training and two weeks working alongside a mentor, he was ready to discover a whole new world of vehicle repairs beyond Vectras and Corsas. This is his turf and today we’ve been brought together to form the AA’s Highland Patrol, which means we can put an addendum on the AA’s frankly pretty weak slogan. ‘Always ahead. Thanks to 620bhp.’

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Actually, the AA used to have a bespoke Highland Patrol. Mounted in Land Rovers they’d cruise around looking for members they could assist. In pre-mobile times away from motorway emergency phones, that was how it was done. It’s all much more high tech today. And reliable presumably, seeing as the Land Rovers have long since been retired. A few patrols up here are mounted in four wheel drive Volkswagen Transporter 4Motions to combat remote winter callouts.

Dom arrives at the stranded Disco 15 minutes later, an interval in which I’ve learned that the Maserati’s main role is to be a distraction until the cavalry arrives. The most valuable tool on board the Transit is the knowledge management system, a built in computer that’s a bit like Wikipedia for patrols. Not only is it chock full of information on typical issues for any given car, it allows each patrol to edit entries to say how they fixed them. A wifi booster means it still works in remote areas. Mostly. We are very remote today. An alternator issue is quickly diagnosed, and 10 minutes later the Disco is on its way.

Dom gives me a tour of his van, pointing out the immediate areas where the Maserati falls flat. “We have to have cross cab access plus a sliding door on the safe side.” I look at the MC20 and picture clambering across the transmission tunnel and out through the upwards opening door on my hands and knees – not an image of competence and capability. “I tend to leave the van out a bit so it protects me working around the car in front. On motorways we have to leave 18 metres of clearance between van and customer car – that’s called the crush zone for obvious reasons.”

Dom’s Transit is brand new – he’s happy because the AA fast-tracked it to him specially for today. The sliding door opens to reveal... everything. Not just big ticket items like batteries and spacesaver wheels, or generic items such as pumping airbags to get into locked cars, clutch cables, amalgamating tape, reflective card to replace mirrors, cable ties and lens tape (“Haven’t used that for about a year”), but even car specific repairs.

“See this? This is really good,” Dom shows me a little metal sleeve. “It’s a gear selector repair kit for a Fiat 500 and Ford Ka – we do this repair pretty much all the time. People think they’ve got a clutch issue on their 500, but it’s actually the gear selector’s ball connector. It’s plastic and wears over time. Before we got these, we used to use a disposable glove and clamp that in place. But this is pretty much permanent.”

Around 80 per cent of issues can be fixed at the roadside, reckons Dom. Those that can’t require recovery. The back of every Transit is filled with a compact recovery trailer (CRT) that swings out hydraulically and clamps on the towbar. “If we hadn’t been able to get that Discovery going then we’d have had to call a flatbed, because this has a tow limit of around 2,000kg.”

How fitting that the AA's new spearhead has a trident badge

This is akin to an issue I’ve run into with recovery services before – no matter how much you tell the call centre to just send recovery because every tyre is punctured or there’s a hole in the engine block, for a variety of reasons around insurance and health and safety they have to send a patrol to assess the issue first. Meaning more delays and frustration.

But then sometimes punters don’t know what they’re talking about or are, er, economical with the truth. “I once had a callout where a customer had told us his car was suffering a fuel cutoff issue and when I got there, there was fire, police, ambulance and the car was upside down in the middle of a field. The fuel cutoff wasn’t the only issue there, was it?”

I’m hoping for similar drama today, but the next call sounds fairly prosaic – a Mercedes with a flat tyre. That and batteries are the most common callouts. Having failed to slot the spacesaver spare in the Maserati’s boot, I hotfoot to despatch tea and sympathy... well sympathy, to the afflicted party.

The trouble is that on single track Highland roads the Maserati isn’t actually that fast. Even by supercar standards ground clearance is hopeless. It scuffs and scrapes its belly everywhere, so I slow down and the Transit catches up. There’s a nose lift, but it drops back down above 25mph. But it does have things in its favour. Speed, when you can deploy it, comes as effortlessly as breathing, the twin turbo V6 barely having to work. It’s comfortable too, with fine seats and a calm, placid ride, plus it sups fuel sparingly (even though the fuel gauge is a terrible fibber, screaming at you to fill up when there’s still 20 litres in there). Spend a day in here? No issue at all.

But mainly the MC20 looks flipping fantastic as an AA early warning vehicle. When the sun’s on it the Giallo Genio paintwork proves a near exact match for the AA’s Ford M8 yellow. Bit more costly though – thick, rich and heavily pearlescent, it’s a £9,650 option at Maserati, but comes free with every AA van. Special order obviously, seeing as the vans are built in batches by Ford and VW (the only two AA suppliers). The last order was 740 new shape Transits. They join a nationwide fleet of 2,800 vans, 250 trucks and one (temporary) Maserati.

Personally, I’m looking past Maserati’s troubled relationship with reliability and focusing on how fitting it is that the AA’s new spearhead has a trident badge. And winter tyres. And a V6 that doubles as a boot warmer. Not sure that’s intentional. Or desirable, as when I pull up at the Mercedes and open the boot I rediscover the teacakes I bought on the way up yesterday to dispense to those in need. Chocolate is seeping out of the foil cases.

The Merc CLS is a breeze. The owner wasn’t confident using the jack, so Dom and I look like high-vis heroes, wielding trolley jack and wheel gun and switching it to the spacesaver in F1 pitstop time. One thing though – to absolve itself of complete responsibility the AA tells customers they need to check the wheelnut torque in 30 miles. Bet none do. And yes, there is an algorithm that prioritises cases based on location, gender, age, weather conditions, danger and so on. It doesn’t chide you for choosing an unreliable car though, so that’s something if you have a Fiat, McLaren (yes, Dom has seen a few – “Always electrics in those”) or Jaguar Land Rover product.

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Dom averages about 10 callouts per 10 hour shift. “I like to get the easy jobs done quickly, so I’ve got more time to spend on the trickier ones. Those are more satisfying – we get a few calls that are just operator issues. I even had one where someone had bought a new car and didn’t know it only started if you had the clutch pressed. Most of the time that’s picked up in the call centre.” And yes, he has once had to fix his own van – puncture, somewhat predictably.

What about EVs that are out of charge, I ask him? The RAC carries a charging pack to get customers mobile again. “We don’t do that – those packs are slow to charge, so we think it’s better to take the car to a charger.” Fair enough, leaving aside the fact that most electric vehicles are probably too heavy to be hooked up to the CRT. “Actually, most issues with electric cars are when someone’s at a charger and can’t disconnect the cable or the charger’s not working and they’ve got very little battery. It’s rare that someone actually runs out on the road.”

What does Dom almost never get called out to? “Honda Jazz. Flat batteries, flat tyres, that’s it on those. I’ve never had a callout for a Honda engine. I know a couple of patrols who are ex-Honda techs and we tease them that they’ve never served apprenticeships because all they’ve done are brakes and servicing.”

As an emergency service, Top Gear Roadside Assist Watch has been found wanting. Not so much the fourth emergency service, as the 35th. We’ve improved speed and responsiveness (might have a go at the ambulance service next), failed miserably to actually fix anything (on second thoughts...). I’ve learned my lesson for next time: don’t forget the thermos.

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Of course it's a Disco. It's always a Disco. First call out of the day and I’m first on the scene. That was the plan of course, and it’s worked a treat. Now, what had Dominic told me it was likely to be? Ah, that’s right, it’s a Land Rover, therefore... almost anything: blown turbo, glitchy electrics, belts, water pump, front diff, front wheel hubs, air suspension, cracked engine block...

I open up the MC20’s toolkit. It contains a towing eye. Nothing else. Hmm. Hang about, Dominic shoved a chunky battery starter pack in the Maserati’s footwell earlier, seeing as battery issues account for about 20 per cent of callouts. I connect it up. Much clicking, no life. And that’s me done, out of ideas. All I’m good for right now is tea and sympathy. My shoulders sink as I realise I left my flask at the hotel this morning. I smile wanly at the beleaguered Disco driver, “At least the sun’s out...”

We’ve all heard the horror stories, people waiting for hours for the recovery services to turn up, stranded on the hard shoulder of the M40 for two hours (that’ll be me), broken down in roadworks on the M4 after a piston went through the block (also me). How to solve this? Get to people faster, duh. Where some would suggest more patrol vans, Top Gear suggests speed. We’ve built the AA a rapid response vehicle.

Photography: Olgun Kordal

Well, I say built, but what we’ve actually done is livery up Maserati’s 620bhp mid-engined supercar, sucker some lights on top and headed off to help one of the UK’s most remote patrols cover his Highland patch. My thinking was that he must have a huge area to cover and on these corking roads I could get from one end of the Highlands to the other a mite faster than a 113bhp Ford Transit. True though that may be, it’s not how it works. Instead a 62-mile radius is drawn around the patrol’s front door and that, literally, is their sphere of influence.

Dominic Carroll has been an AA patrol for eight years. Like most others he was a mechanic first, a Gold level Vauxhall tech who fancied a change. After a month’s training and two weeks working alongside a mentor, he was ready to discover a whole new world of vehicle repairs beyond Vectras and Corsas. This is his turf and today we’ve been brought together to form the AA’s Highland Patrol, which means we can put an addendum on the AA’s frankly pretty weak slogan. ‘Always ahead. Thanks to 620bhp.’

Actually, the AA used to have a bespoke Highland Patrol. Mounted in Land Rovers they’d cruise around looking for members they could assist. In pre-mobile times away from motorway emergency phones, that was how it was done. It’s all much more high tech today. And reliable presumably, seeing as the Land Rovers have long since been retired. A few patrols up here are mounted in four wheel drive Volkswagen Transporter 4Motions to combat remote winter callouts.

Dom arrives at the stranded Disco 15 minutes later, an interval in which I’ve learned that the Maserati’s main role is to be a distraction until the cavalry arrives. The most valuable tool on board the Transit is the knowledge management system, a built in computer that’s a bit like Wikipedia for patrols. Not only is it chock full of information on typical issues for any given car, it allows each patrol to edit entries to say how they fixed them. A wifi booster means it still works in remote areas. Mostly. We are very remote today. An alternator issue is quickly diagnosed, and 10 minutes later the Disco is on its way.

Dom gives me a tour of his van, pointing out the immediate areas where the Maserati falls flat. “We have to have cross cab access plus a sliding door on the safe side.” I look at the MC20 and picture clambering across the transmission tunnel and out through the upwards opening door on my hands and knees – not an image of competence and capability. “I tend to leave the van out a bit so it protects me working around the car in front. On motorways we have to leave 18 metres of clearance between van and customer car – that’s called the crush zone for obvious reasons.”

Dom’s Transit is brand new – he’s happy because the AA fast-tracked it to him specially for today. The sliding door opens to reveal... everything. Not just big ticket items like batteries and spacesaver wheels, or generic items such as pumping airbags to get into locked cars, clutch cables, amalgamating tape, reflective card to replace mirrors, cable ties and lens tape (“Haven’t used that for about a year”), but even car specific repairs.

“See this? This is really good,” Dom shows me a little metal sleeve. “It’s a gear selector repair kit for a Fiat 500 and Ford Ka – we do this repair pretty much all the time. People think they’ve got a clutch issue on their 500, but it’s actually the gear selector’s ball connector. It’s plastic and wears over time. Before we got these, we used to use a disposable glove and clamp that in place. But this is pretty much permanent.”

Around 80 per cent of issues can be fixed at the roadside, reckons Dom. Those that can’t require recovery. The back of every Transit is filled with a compact recovery trailer (CRT) that swings out hydraulically and clamps on the towbar. “If we hadn’t been able to get that Discovery going then we’d have had to call a flatbed, because this has a tow limit of around 2,000kg.”

How fitting that the AA's new spearhead has a trident badge

This is akin to an issue I’ve run into with recovery services before – no matter how much you tell the call centre to just send recovery because every tyre is punctured or there’s a hole in the engine block, for a variety of reasons around insurance and health and safety they have to send a patrol to assess the issue first. Meaning more delays and frustration.

But then sometimes punters don’t know what they’re talking about or are, er, economical with the truth. “I once had a callout where a customer had told us his car was suffering a fuel cutoff issue and when I got there, there was fire, police, ambulance and the car was upside down in the middle of a field. The fuel cutoff wasn’t the only issue there, was it?”

I’m hoping for similar drama today, but the next call sounds fairly prosaic – a Mercedes with a flat tyre. That and batteries are the most common callouts. Having failed to slot the spacesaver spare in the Maserati’s boot, I hotfoot to despatch tea and sympathy... well sympathy, to the afflicted party.

The trouble is that on single track Highland roads the Maserati isn’t actually that fast. Even by supercar standards ground clearance is hopeless. It scuffs and scrapes its belly everywhere, so I slow down and the Transit catches up. There’s a nose lift, but it drops back down above 25mph. But it does have things in its favour. Speed, when you can deploy it, comes as effortlessly as breathing, the twin turbo V6 barely having to work. It’s comfortable too, with fine seats and a calm, placid ride, plus it sups fuel sparingly (even though the fuel gauge is a terrible fibber, screaming at you to fill up when there’s still 20 litres in there). Spend a day in here? No issue at all.

But mainly the MC20 looks flipping fantastic as an AA early warning vehicle. When the sun’s on it the Giallo Genio paintwork proves a near exact match for the AA’s Ford M8 yellow. Bit more costly though – thick, rich and heavily pearlescent, it’s a £9,650 option at Maserati, but comes free with every AA van. Special order obviously, seeing as the vans are built in batches by Ford and VW (the only two AA suppliers). The last order was 740 new shape Transits. They join a nationwide fleet of 2,800 vans, 250 trucks and one (temporary) Maserati.

Personally, I’m looking past Maserati’s troubled relationship with reliability and focusing on how fitting it is that the AA’s new spearhead has a trident badge. And winter tyres. And a V6 that doubles as a boot warmer. Not sure that’s intentional. Or desirable, as when I pull up at the Mercedes and open the boot I rediscover the teacakes I bought on the way up yesterday to dispense to those in need. Chocolate is seeping out of the foil cases.

The Merc CLS is a breeze. The owner wasn’t confident using the jack, so Dom and I look like high-vis heroes, wielding trolley jack and wheel gun and switching it to the spacesaver in F1 pitstop time. One thing though – to absolve itself of complete responsibility the AA tells customers they need to check the wheelnut torque in 30 miles. Bet none do. And yes, there is an algorithm that prioritises cases based on location, gender, age, weather conditions, danger and so on. It doesn’t chide you for choosing an unreliable car though, so that’s something if you have a Fiat, McLaren (yes, Dom has seen a few – “Always electrics in those”) or Jaguar Land Rover product.

Dom averages about 10 callouts per 10 hour shift. “I like to get the easy jobs done quickly, so I’ve got more time to spend on the trickier ones. Those are more satisfying – we get a few calls that are just operator issues. I even had one where someone had bought a new car and didn’t know it only started if you had the clutch pressed. Most of the time that’s picked up in the call centre.” And yes, he has once had to fix his own van – puncture, somewhat predictably.

What about EVs that are out of charge, I ask him? The RAC carries a charging pack to get customers mobile again. “We don’t do that – those packs are slow to charge, so we think it’s better to take the car to a charger.” Fair enough, leaving aside the fact that most electric vehicles are probably too heavy to be hooked up to the CRT. “Actually, most issues with electric cars are when someone’s at a charger and can’t disconnect the cable or the charger’s not working and they’ve got very little battery. It’s rare that someone actually runs out on the road.”

What does Dom almost never get called out to? “Honda Jazz. Flat batteries, flat tyres, that’s it on those. I’ve never had a callout for a Honda engine. I know a couple of patrols who are ex-Honda techs and we tease them that they’ve never served apprenticeships because all they’ve done are brakes and servicing.”

As an emergency service, Top Gear Roadside Assist Watch has been found wanting. Not so much the fourth emergency service, as the 35th. We’ve improved speed and responsiveness (might have a go at the ambulance service next), failed miserably to actually fix anything (on second thoughts...). I’ve learned my lesson for next time: don’t forget the thermos.

# data.attributes.field_standfirst
Ever had a long wait for a recovery van? Top Gear to the rescue... with a slightly reduced toolkit