/ 13 October 2003

Toyota’s Raider — Dad’s toy and Mom’s taxi?

So hubby comes home with a new Toyota 4×4 double-cab diesel bakkie, hands you the keys and says, “Here you go, dear. You can use my new weekend toy during the week.” How do you handle a sucker-punch like that? Is there life after the Venture bus? Your working-mother duties include daily commuting, ferrying kids, grocery shopping, and other household errands. Detouring into off-road territory in a smelly diesel bakkie is not in your job description. With this scenario in mind, I spent two days driving around in the Raider, albeit in two-wheel drive mode, and found the experience rather more palatable than I’d expected.

Firstly, today’s diesel-powered vehicles don’t billow noxious clouds of smoke all over the windscreens of the cars travelling behind. Mind you, the sluggish diesels of the past were overtaken by everything else on the road anyway.

Secondly, the Raider incorporates a lot of the comforts normally associated with family sedans. Like electric windows, air-con, dual airbags, fully adjustable seats, CD player, and those handy little brackets to hold your coffee cups.

Thirdly, when you collect your teenager and find five of her friends have missed their lift home, it’s actually possible to squeeze all six of them into the Raider’s double-cab. Not recommended, but hey, you don’t leave teenage girls in the lurch at midnight.

The Raider is a big bakkie. It’s deceptively high off the ground; the first time I opened the door and stepped out I almost went arse over kettle into the gutter. It’s also a long vehicle. Especially when it comes to reverse parking. But you can get used to anything, and I managed to park in lots of tight spots without hitting anything. Nothing that I felt, anyway!

I found the Raider a piece of cake to drive, at all speeds. The suspension is probably designed to withstand considerable abuse from bundu-bashers, so it’s a bit of a bone-shaker on bumpy roads but overall I enjoyed driving it. Maybe I’d let the bugger carry on sharing my bed.