BY MARK TOLJAGIC

"I'm a Brit. I bought a British car built by scousers," starts a rant on the Internet.

"I should have known better."

If you're unfamiliar with English colloquialisms, a scouser is a derogatory term for a resident of Liverpool, the industrial city
made famous for incubating the Beatles.

That this Range Rover Freelander driver was upset enough to evoke the scouser insult — although Liverpudlians seem to
revel in it — says a lot about the resentment some owners harbour toward their cute-ute.

Frustrated by rising costs, low productivity and declining quality, BMW unloaded Land Rover on Ford for $3 billion (U.S.) in 2000
— despite having Europe's best-selling SUV on its hands in the form of the Freelander.

While Ford acquired BMW's headaches, it also got some Bavarian technology in the deal, including a V6 engine developed
under BMW for the Rover 75 sedan.

For the record, the Freelander was assembled in Solihull in the English Midlands and, uh, not that close to Liverpool.

CONFIGURATION

The Freelander was actually in its sunset years by the time it reached our shores, having been sold in Europe since 1998.

It arrived as a five-door wagon and, in 2003, as a three-door model that included a lift-off sunroof and a removable hardtop
over the rear seats, not unlike the old Suzuki Sidekick.

While the European Freelander offered a popular BMW diesel engine, North Americans got a DOHC 2.5-litre gas V6
producing 175 hp and 177 lb.-ft. of torque hooked up to a five-speed "Steptronic" automatic transmission and permanent
four-wheel drive as the lone drivetrain.

Unlike other earth-crushing, body-on-frame Land Rovers, the Freelander employed a unibody structure to save weight.

Box-section rails ran the length of the underbody to reinforce the trucklet, and a thick aluminum skidplate protected its soft
underbelly.

A four-wheel independent MacPherson-strut suspension with coil springs provided gobs of wheel travel for off-road use.

Buyers also got sufficient compliance and control to yield a comfortable ride and car-like handling.

The Freelander was the first Landie without the traditional low range, four-wheel-drive gearing that made this British
marque famous.

Instead, it came with an all-wheel-drive system using a viscous-coupling unit dividing the engine's power between the front
and rear axles (it's front-wheel biased under normal conditions).

Also standard was four-wheel electronic traction control, which relied on the truck's anti-lock brakes, as did the Freelanders
unique Hill Descent Control.

Push the HDC button and the driver can take her foot off the brake while descending a steep grade; the brakes systematically
retard the wheels with traction to maintain a cautious speed of 8 km/h.

Inside, the Freelander offered some of the styling reminiscent of other Land Rovers, but with little of the expansive space.

The cabin was cramped, especially in the back seat, which should probably never be pressed to carry three adults.

The cargo space behind the bench was tight, too, but owners loved the way the rear-door window rolled down at the
touch of the key fob to accept groceries and other flotsam.

When it arrived here, the Freelander had got little in the way of improvements.

The minuscule gas tank grew slightly for 2003, and the truck got some styling tweaks inside and out for 2004.

For 2006, Ford took it behind the shed and whacked it with a shovel.

An all-new upmarket Freelander arrives next year.

ON THE ROAD

With its rack-and-pinion steering gear and long-travel strut suspension, the Freelander drove more like a European sedan
rather than a Massey-Ferguson tractor.

The transverse-mounted V6, however, was less muscular than it might sound on paper with its double-overhead cams,
24 valves and all-aluminum construction.

It propelled the Freelander to 96 km/h in 10.2 seconds, but the wee motor struggled to maintain velocity going uphill.

Braking was good, requiring 58 metres to halt from a speed of 112 km/h.

"No real S or U in an SUV," blogged one owner, referring to the apparent lack of sport and utility.

It was at home on the range, though. Car and Driver preferred it to the Jeep Liberty in a dusty off-road duel.

Owners were split on the Freelander's fuel consumption. Some characterized it as a guzzler, while others reported decent
mileage around 15-litres/100 km (15 mpg) in mixed driving.

It may be a case of the Freelander really responding to how drivers use the go pedal.

WHAT OWNERS REPORTED

The Freelander trades on the appeal of its small green oval. Land Rover, after all, has been an SUV specialist since 1948.

"Its traction control even allows it to clear obstacles a traditional 4x4 might have trouble with, like a hillside covered with wet grass,
" blogged one enthusiastic owner.

Despite the presence of some very capable competitors, such as the Jeep Liberty and Ford Escape, Freelander owners
cite Land Rovers cachet as being important to them.

They also like the idea of driving something relatively rare.

There's a good reason for that.

"It is one of the most unreliable, problem-filled vehicles I have ever had," wrote the owner of an '02 SE model.

"I need to rent a room at the dealership for the amount of time I spend there."

The V6 engine suffers from faulty head gaskets that are enormously expensive to replace, owners reported.

Watch for vanishing coolant.

The air conditioner is a poor performer, owners warned, and breaks down frequently.
To add insult to injury, the fan sometimes spits water at occupants.

The condensation can damage dashboard electrics such as the radio.

The Jatco-supplied transmission has also been known to check out early.

Add to this the usual litany of Euro-car complaints such as broken sunroof mechanisms, busted window regulators,
electrical glitches and fluid leaks, and it's hard to make a case for acquiring this cute-ute used.

Status seekers may be better off buying Prada shoes.