Would You Let Your 15-Year-Old Get Behind The Wheel Of A Land Rover Discovery?

I still remember the day I passed my driving test – first time, aged 17, in 1993. I was  young enough to have had to return to school afterwards, my driving instructor dropping me off outside gates. I swung in with a swishy ponytail and my school bag – the L-plates flung away. I’d won myself some serious freedom in my A-level years. I could be a party chauffeur for my friends and I could escape my parents at the weekend. They loved it too, no longer did they have to ferry me around.

I owe it to my dad that I passed so young and easily. As children, he’d let us sit on the car bonnet when we got to the long bumpy drive to our cottage in the New Forest. He’d squirt the windscreen washers; we’d get soaked and hysterical. Sometimes he’d take a corner at speed and we’d have to hold on to the wipers shrieking. I didn’t know any other parent who would purposely put their children at risk. We of course loved it (and only once did my cousin actually fall off; he wasn’t badly hurt). 

When I was 14 he started teaching me to drive. The road was private, so I wasn’t breaking any laws and it was a way to get me used to the feeling. He had a knackered-out Mazda so he didn’t care (at least as I recall) if I crunched the gears, hit a pothole too fast or scraped a fence post. By the time I was old enough for my provisional licence, I’d done a lot of ground work. 

Now, I’m a parent of a 15-year-old and the thought of putting her and her 12-year-old brother on the bonnet of our Skoda does cross my mind, but I think if anyone saw me I’d be reported to Social Services. I do let them sit out of the window and squirt them but that’s about it. As for starting her driving properly on that same road, I’m not sure I have the patience for it. 

Risk-taking seems harder for children nowadays (the tracking apps, the parachute parenting, the phones keeping them on screens), so it was with sheer delight when I discovered that I could get her behind the wheel – but of someone else’s car. And a big, shiny, expensive one at that. 

Cut to Eastnor Castle in Herefordshire – Land Rover’s spiritual home turf, all rolling parkland and exceedingly muddy tracks (plus, for added kudos, it’s where the wedding scene in Succession was filmed). My 15-year-old is sliding into the driver’s seat of a brand-new Discovery as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. My husband and I clambour into the backseat, having delightedly ceded all control to Land Rover veteran and our instructor, Clarky.

‘We’re not in a rush, we’re not setting any records,’ he says calmly. Just what you want to hear in a person who has seconds ago introduced your teenager to several tonnes of steel. ‘You’ll notice an extra brake on my side. That’s for safety.’ Phew.

Before going anywhere further than the gravel track, he gets her to practise inching forward, stopping, moving again, stopping, reversing, stopping. ‘We’re trying to develop what we call muscle memory,’ he explains, asking her to gently squeeze the brake to bring it to a stop rather than ram her foot down, which of course she does. ‘It’s natural to do that. We all did the same when we learned to drive.’ Soon though, she gets it.

The Discovery helps. ‘The good thing is it’s automatic so you don’t have to worry about the third pedal,’ he explains. Then he gets her to start steering properly. ‘Try not to cross your hands… feed the wheel through your hands… like you grab holding a rope, you’re just feeding the wheel through your hands.’ She graduates to driving an oval, then a figure of eight. ‘The key thing is just to manage the speed. If it feels fast, it probably is – use a bit of brake to slow the car down.’ My teenager is fully engaged and concentrating hard. My jaw stops clenching. 

Her session is complete, and it’s the adults turn to have some fun – and get off the gravel and into the mud to see what these muscular vehicles are really made for. Clarky adjusts the mirrors, angling them down at the ground behind the car. ‘The combination of the mirrors and the cameras will certainly help you when we tackle some of the narrow areas,’ he says. 

Now I’m the one concentrating hard and trusting in the vehicle. I have to get used to looking at the screen when I can’t see the track in front of me because it’s blocked by the bonnet. As an older driver it can take a little getting used to but it’s invaluable. As the track squeezes tighter between banks, he reminds me: ‘Cameras are very helpful,’ as I try to lurch out of my seat to try and see the track ahead.  

At a particularly steep section, we stop and he swipes down the screen, revealing the car’s off-road brain. ‘Currently the car is using something called terrain response, so it’s automatically deciphering what’s going on, monitoring and making little adjustments.’ With the hill in front of us, he introduces another feature: Hill Descent Control. ‘We can use it to bring the car safely down the hill by braking on our behalf.’  

Then we  start our descent and – crucially – he tells me not to brake, which is agonisingly difficult. But then, to my astonishment, the Discovery slows itself right down to the 3mph it’s been set at. ‘There you go. See how the car’s slowing itself down? That’s Hill Descent Control.’ Clarky laughs, pleased with my dumbstruck expression. ‘I think of that system as a comfort blanket, a safety net. So it’s in play if we need it and if we don’t, we override it… or we adjust it.’

We creep into deeper, muddier terrain and tackle an off-camber bowl at a frankly ridiculous angle. Clarky’s voice is deliberately casual. ‘We may even get a bit of wheel spin because we’re only on three wheels at the moment.’ The Discovery lurches, grips, holds. ‘Pretty impressive isn’t it? We’re still in the seats. We’re not sliding out the door.’ 

And while we’ve been on three wheels, we might as well get wet too, as we sink practically up to the bonnet in a murky bog which would leave our Skoda almost fully submerged. ‘We’ve got some wade sensing,’ he says. Well, of course we do. ‘We can measure the water.’ We go slowly, the car reading the depth as we go (it can go to around 3ft extraordinarily), and emerge the other side dry as a bone.

By the time we’ve driven up some steps, up a seemingly vertical ramp, in a pond and through some potholes which would have absolutely obliterated most other vehicles, the Discovery has become far more than a car. It’s a life raft, a safety net, a massive beast that I’d be happy to have by my side – and it’s given my daughter membership of a club that must be pretty rare. Who else can say, ‘My first driving lesson was in a Land Rover Discovery?’

The Details: Land Rover Experience Eastnor

• With 5,000 acres of breathtaking Herefordshire countryside, Eastnor Castle has been JLR’s proving ground for over 50 years. 
• Purpose-built terrain: Rocky tracks, grassy slopes, and water-wading challenges – perfect for first-time off-roaders.
• Shared family adventure: For younger Land Rover enthusiasts (11-17 y.o.) a chance to satisfy their appetite for adventure in an extraordinary 60-minute experience. Young drivers will conquer challenging terrains and obstacles. With a Product Expert by their side, we will show them just how capable both they and our vehicles are.

Book your experience here