Ford Ranger Raptor - long-term review

I have guilt. Car-related guilt. Much of it is centred around my old Porsche 996. It’s a plain old Carrera that’s no longer plain. Where once there was a 3.4-litre engine with 300bhp there’s now a 3.8 from a 991 Carrera S. The suspension is adjustable, rose-jointed and complete overkill. The stainless steel and titanium exhaust cost more than the purchase price of the entire car. Yet I have done one trackday in it in the last 12 months. And I didn’t make it to the track until lunch time. The poor thing deserves better.

That guilt has recently transferred to the Raptor. It has a reinforced chassis, locking diffs front and rear, underbody armour, Fox shocks thicker than The Rock’s forearms that use Teflon-infused oil to reduce friction and internal temperatures when the going gets really rough, and BF Goodrich tyres with huge mud, snow and sand defying tread blocks. The furthest it’s been off-road is a gravel carpark.

The truth is that I’m not going to seek out off-road courses - certainly not regularly. Or throw mountain bikes and tents in the Raptor’s bed for weekend adventures. I hate camping. I can’t afford nice mountain bikes because I’ve got a Porsche to prepare for trackways that I never go on. You could easily argue that the Raptor is wasted on me.

Well, probably. But I’ve also realised that whilst lamenting my lack of off-road commitment, I’ve ignored the fact that I do use the Raptor to its maximum in other ways. I have three great jump locations that I regularly detour through in order to exercise those Fox Live Valve shocks. In rainy conditions I get up early and test out that locking rear diff. I’ve literally driven up and down the same stretch of hedge-lined B-road to ascertain my own perfect settings for steering, suspension and powertrain. My life has definitely had a sprinkling of Dukes of Hazzard abandon thanks to having daily access to a Ranger Raptor. Burnouts? Yep, I’m almost ashamed to say they have become a regular, too.

So, how is the Ranger when driven more like a sportscar? Or at least a muscle car jacked up a few feet? Pretty bloody good. The steering is, of course, a bit slower and less responsive than is ideal and body control isn’t a patch on, say, something like a Porsche Cayenne. But, there’s an honesty and consistency to how it behaves and it’s really satisfying to manage the weight transfer, read the road to avoid turning in too fast (to avoid killer understeer) and then wring out the engine on exit, using that rear locked diff to its full potential.

The tyres howl, the 10-speed ‘box has incredibly close ratios to make the most of the 3.0-litre twin-turbocharged V6’s mild 288bhp and 362lb ft and the brakes just about cope. Even better, my guilt is disappearing. The Raptor’s incredible off road capability is wasted on me. But I’m getting the most out of it in other, unexpected ways.