For anyone not in the know, when I use the term “whip,” I mean it in the slang, informal sense: an automobile, particularly a flashy luxury one. The Drive did an entire article on how this term came to be, and it’s quite interesting. As for this particular whip, I cannot specifically remember when I first paid attention to the 2003-2012 “L322” Range Rover.
It might have been in 2006, when my optometrist showed up with a brand-new Supercharged one. (He would not be the last gay optometrist I’d ever have with a taste for British 4x4s). His was either dark blue or black, with the light oyster interior.
I also recall, around that same year, ordering a bunch of car brochures from several automakers’ websites, one of which was the 2006 Land Rover lineup, including the L322.
And then, in Summer 2009, I remember getting up close and personal with an L322. I was out with my parents, looking for a new family truckster to replace the one my mom had just totaled. On the lot of a new-car dealer was a gently used Range Rover, and I (age 16) climbed inside and started pressing all the buttons. I remember the radio having a button with a music-note icon (♫) on it, which meant it had to be a 2006-or-newer model with the Ford/Jaguar era radio, and not a 2003-2005 with the BMW radio. I also remember it being a pale-ish green color that Land Rover calls Giverny Green Metallic.
From then on, I was always kind of smitten with it and I learned a lot about the L322 and Range Rovers in general. Especially when, ten years later, I got a web development client that was an independent Land Rover shop, and that performed no end of work on aging L322s. Around that same time (late 2019/early 2020), I had just signed the contract on my first house. I already had the problematic 2004 Jaguar XJ Vanden Plas, the slightly less-problematic 1993 Mercedes-Benz 500 SL, and my daily, a new 2019 Volkswagen Tiguan SEL Premium 4MOTION.
So how, then, did I end up with a fourth car, and a Range Rover at that?
Well…I must have been playing around on Facebook Marketplace (we all know how dangerous that is) and saw a Range Rover pop up. This one was Jet Black, with the Ivory interior and the piano black trim. It was the desirable 2006+ model, and not the BMW-era 2003-2005. It was a Supercharged, meaning that it employed a 4.2-liter supercharged Jaguar V8 that put out a stonking 400 HP. And…it was $2,000. Why? Well, the description revealed that it had a bad transmission. Or, at least, one that was acting up. It wouldn’t shift beyond third gear. Still, for whatever reason, I thought it would be a fun project and so immediately sent a DM to the seller, arranging to come to look at it that day.
Turned out I was talking to the son of the car’s owner. That owner was a middle-aged and seasoned independent mechanic, who owned a transmission shop on a particularly seedy block of town. Particularly interesting, he seemed to specialize in rebuilding the very ZF 6HP24 transmission that the 2006 Range Rover used, as well as a slew of other cars. And he had a dealer license and sold cars on the side, mostly BMWs. The side of his property was littered with BMW E65 7 Series’ in various states of disassembly.
But…I was more concerned with the Range Rover itself, which was in a sorrier state than the Facebook pictures ever could have conveyed. The windscreen was cracked. The A-pillar finisher was missing on one side and badly sun-damaged on the other. A tire was flat. One taillight was the wrong color, and both were missing their protective outer lenses. The passenger mirror’s auto-dim feature had failed, and the fluid had leaked out between the layers of glass. The driver’s seat was torn. It was listing to one side like a boat getting ready to roll.
Oh, and it had 189,000 miles on it.
That didn’t stop me, though, and perhaps it should have. I still wanted to take a ride in it, and see how it drove and performed, transmission aside. The mechanic let me take it for a spin. It started up just fine, stopped just fine, and indeed got all the way up to third gear before it displayed “Transmission Fault” and gave up on upshifting. The air suspension even rose and lowered just fine, although it still had an inexplicably crooked ride height.
After that, I asked the mechanic a few questions? How did you get it? He got it from a friend. Do you know anything about its history? He said he didn’t, but that he could use his dealer account to pull a Carfax for me. And the most salient question: If you’re an expert on transmissions yourself, specifically this transmission, why wouldn’t you just fix it? He explained that he was hard-up for cash and that business had been pretty slow, so the Range Rover had to go. At that point, after looking at the Carfax, I decided it couldn’t be that bad of an idea. I had a hunch it wouldn’t be ruinously expensive to fix, and I had an ace up my sleeve: the aforementioned web-design client, who knew these cars inside and out.
I offered him $1,500; he countered at $1,900, and we shook hands at $1,800. I returned with a cashier’s check and Austin, my best friend. The mechanic wrote up a bill of sale, gave me a temporary tag, and the car was mine.
I limped the car the 14 or so miles home, and Austin followed me in his comparatively bulletproof 2016 Lexus RX 450h. We stuck to the side and neighborhood roads all the while. And even though the Range Rover very much continued to limit itself to third gear, with the ever-present “Transmission Fault” warning in the instrument panel, it otherwise drove fine. It was a that point that I fell in love with it. I fell in love with the design. I fell in love with the seating position. I fell in love with the cushy air ride and the careful but effective blend of rugged and luxury. It truly felt like the king of all SUVs. And this one? Well, it just dropped its crown.
The first thing to do was figure out what was going on with the transmission, and that involved checking the fluid. The 2006-2012 Range Rover had the ZF 6HP transmission, which graced a number of longitude-RWD-based cars of the day, along with there being a license-built version from Ford and a special longitude-transaxle one for some VW Group cars. What they all had in common was that they lacked a transmission dipstick. Instead, you got the vehicle up to temperature, and accessed the fill plug. If you took it off and a small amount of fluid weeped out, the fluid was at the right level. That also allowed you to check the fluid’s condition.
I decided at the outset that the fluid would determine my next steps. If it wasn’t at the right level, I’d add some more and see what that did. If it was at the right level and still looked good, I’d start looking more at the TCU and its logs. But if the fluid came out burnt, I’d begin sourcing a new transmission. So I took the car out for a spin early in the morning, got it up to operating temperature (verifying it with an infrared monitor aimed at the sump), placed the air suspension on its highest setting, and slid underneath it.
Unfortunately, the fluid came out very burnt. Like, almost black. I was disappointed, but not surprised. So I did a little research and determined that I could also use a 6HP26 from a Range Rover Sport Supercharged, since that would also have the higher-spec torque converter, and found such a car with a known good transmission from a reputable parts breaker on eBay that had a warranty—including mechanic labor. And it was $500. Done!
Who did I contact to install the new transmission? Why, the very same person who sold the Range Rover to me, since I knew he knew these transmissions. He agreed to do it for $600 if I provided the transmission fluid, and I agreed. I made sure the transmission got shipped to his shop, and—during the week it was there—he called me to deliver some bad news…not about the transmission: “Last night, the Range Rover was parked against the fence and someone stole your passenger-side cat[alytic converter].”
“Okay, thank you for informing me,” I said.
“You seem a bit calmer than I would be,” was the mechanic’s sheepish response.
“That’s because it was in your care,” I said, “and I’ll be deducting the cost of it from your bill.”
Frankly, the guy was shady, in the first place. When I finally went to go pick up the car, the mechanic’s son was there, and said his father—and my car—were at Harbor Freight. I asked what he thought he was doing driving my car on a personal errand with a missing catalytic converter, and the son just shrugged. When the mechanic finally appeared, he had the audacity to ask me for $5 in gas. Oh, and there was a bit of other news: the car, with the new transmission, wouldn’t shift past fourth gear. There were no errors and it went smoothly through one, two, three, and four, but no fifth or sixth. Weirdly, the car would let you shift into fifth or sixth yourself with manual mode, but would not do so in automatic mode.
Between that and his asking me for $5 in gas after driving my car around with no cat on one bank, I told him I’d just go ahead and take it, verify that he installed the transmission (and correctly), find out how much the catalytic converter cost, and then remit him the remainder, if there was any. He reluctantly agreed.
Fortunately, the new catalytic converter turned out to only be $300. I found a substitute on Rock Auto for $180 shipped, and a reputable shop that could weld a new one (and install a new O2 sensor) for $100.
As for the transmission, that was a bit more tricky. I couldn’t get it to go into the top two gears, either, and so after the new cat was installed, I plugged my code-reader—which had the Jaguar/Land Rover codes—into it. I took it for a drive at night, when it was dark, and observed all the readouts. One thing stood out to me: the wheel-speed sensor readings. One wheel, the front right, was reading a drastically faster speed even when the wheel was pointed straight. I got out and looked at the wheels, and what did I find? That tire was a completely different size. In fact, it was the correct size, and I suspect it was the spare that was missing out of the back. The other three tires were the wrong size! I got back to my computer and the nice folks in the L322 forums informed me that, yep, the car’s TCM would restrict itself from shifting into the higher gears if it thought you were turning a corner, to keep from losing traction. I suspect most transmissions operate this way, and I was surprised that the transmission expert did not know this.
I should have called my client at the Land Rover shop to see if we could swap a set of wheels from one of his many parts cars on, which would have all been the same size and would have confirmed the problem. Instead, I popped over to Discount Tire and bought a new set of tires. And, indeed, when I got it out of the shop, it shifted smoothly into the top two gears. Job done!
Next was the A/C, which simply did not work. For this, I did reach out to my client. He determined that the A/C compressor was spent, and the condenser was completely clogged. Those, along with a new drier and fresh fluid, had the A/C running beautifully…which was great considering it was June in Oklahoma. At the same time, we determined that the float in the coolant overflow tank was bad, and so that got replaced and the coolant flushed. It got an oil change at this time, too.
The final drivability problem was the stumble at idle. The Range Rover’s idle was meant to be 700 RPM or so. However, it would slowly surge from 1100 RPM down to 500 RPM, nearly stall speed, before stabilizing and eventually throwing a check-engine light. The first thing I did was clean the mass airflow sensor, and that solved it a bit. Then, I replaced throttle body, which did nothing. But the real culprit, after I put a code reader on it, turned out to be a bad injector wire on cylinder 8, which is the one on the driver’s side (for LHD vehicles) and nearest to the firewall. I had the shop fix that, then replaced all the injectors myself, and it drove fine after that.
Everything else that needed fixing was cosmetic or minor. There was the heated windshield, which Binswanger Glass replaced with an aftermarket unit. There were the A-pillar finishers, which were replaced and got new finishers. I found a whole driver’s seat in the correct color (Ivory) on eBay, had that shipped to my client’s shop, and there installed it there, since my old one was torn. Even the TV in the back of the headrest still worked, so that was nice.
Some of the issues surprised me, though. Again, the 2006 Range Rover was a sort of one-year-wonder, with most of the BMW interior, but the facelifted exterior and the Jaguar powertrains. The BMW exterior was victim to some poor-quality materials and fiddly bits. The texture-painted plastic that covered the center stack and some of the trim would scratch away, leaving unsightly black (fortunately, a Krylon paint product at Home Depot happened to be a perfect match). And then there were the two front cupholders. The 2003-2006 L322 had a single fixed cupholder near the gearshift, a second one that folded out of the center console, and a third one that came out of the dashboard on the very right. The latter two were spring-loaded and were broken. I sourced replacements.
Another thing I had to find was a replacement for the worn-out gear-selector surround, an assembly that included the high/low-range differential mode and hill-descent control (HDC) switches. This was easier said than done, because the alphanumeric code on the underside of the part needed to be a correct match for the one that came with your car from the factory, or you’d get error lights and it wouldn’t work. And there were about ten revisions.
The headlights were a breeze to remove, polish, protective-coat, and reinstall (and I laughed at the “FoMoCo” labels under the mounts.) But the taillights were a bit more trouble. From 2006 to 2009, the HSE trim of the L322 had taillights with lower lenses, and these took regular yellow bulbs. But the Supercharged and Autobiography trims had clear lower lenses, with special opalescent bulbs that themselves lit up red. Finding replacement aftermarket taillights in the Supercharged style was easy enough, but the bulbs were a specific Land Rover part. I couldn’t find any alternative other than to fork over $64 apiece for them at the dealer (and there were four!).
Finally, there was the camera. The L322’s camera was top-mounted, under the spoiler, and looked down over the bumper and beyond it. But the 2006-2009 cameras were prone to getting filled with water and then shorting out…which had happened to mine. The forums came to the rescue again, revealing that someone in the UK had created an aftermarket part that worked better than the original (digital vs analog), was better sealed, and included a wiring harness to do the signal conversion. That part was easy to install once you removed the interior trim for the upper liftgate and unbolted the spoiler.
I enjoyed the 2006 Range Rover Supercharged for a couple of trouble-free months after that, and then decided to sell it. I can’t remember why, but I think it’s because I wanted a later-series (2010-2012) one instead. What I vividly remember is what happened when I put it up for sale on FB Marketplace and Craigslist, for $7,500, a reasonable price for one at the time.
Folks, let me tell you that there’s nothing quite more effective than an attainably priced European luxury SUV to make people lose their minds. People called me to ask if I’d take payments (I’m not a bank, sorry). I had people calling me to ask if I thought it would last another 200K miles (Do I look like Miss Cleo to you? And probably not, no.) I had people asking if I could hold it until they could borrow the money from their 401K (I sure can’t, and also, that’s a terrible idea). I had someone say, and I quote “My baby momma owes me $4,000 in back child support, and I still have $3,000 from my tax return; will you take $7,000 for it” (Yikes!). A woman even came to test-drive it with her daughter. The daughter had previously just totaled a Hummer H2 by texting and driving, and Mom thought she should remain in a big, safe, luxury 4×4 (Why?)
The eventual buyer was an 80-something-year-old man who, I admit, looked like Mr. Magoo and drove about as well. He clarified the car was for him, as he’d always wanted one. Meanwhile, he probably had no business driving anything, much less a Range Rover on air suspension. But he was hot-to-trot, he and his niece had cash, they both appeared to be of sound mind, and it was none of my business. So, we settled on $7,100, and away it went. My only hope is that his niece was really the one driving him around in it. And I, I made a small profit, if you discount the hours and hours that I could have spent doing literally anything else, such as my regular job.
If you’ve ever seen the long-running British show Wheeler Dealers, they do this nice thing at the end where they outline how much they spent at the end of a project, and how much they made. I’ll do that here:
2006 Range Rover Supercharged | $1,800.00 |
Tag, Title & Registration | $166.15 |
Transmission & Transmission Fluid (and Unscheduled Catalytic Converter Replacement) | $1,230.16 |
A/C Repair & Recharge | $547.12 |
Replacement Seat | $227.19 |
Replacement Windshield | $596.03 |
Replacement Tires (4) | $849.94 |
Replacement Rear Light Housings | $215.68 |
Replacement Injectors | $183.21 |
Replacement Retractable Cupholders | $141.12 |
Replacement Bulbs | $257.44 |
Replacement Rearview Camera | $70.36 |
Coolant and & Service | $268.71 |
Misc. Supplies | $65.53 |
Man Hours | Who Cares |
Total Cost | $6,477.52 |
Sale Price | $7,100.00 |
Profit | $622.48 |
I’d love to say that this was the beginning of my career as a reasonably humble car flipper for prestige hoopties, but no. This was a fluke. In subsequent adventures, I went right on back to spending more than I sold cars for, and throwing good money after bad (seriously, I accrue for this in my monthly budget!)
And as for my wanting a later-series L322? Stay tuned!
Very impressive journey! I always fantasize about “restoring” one of my well worn whips and may yet work up the confidence to do so, but nothing as ambitious as a Range Rover!
Oof! You’re much, much braver than I. I’m not particularly knowledgeable about these, but did a little time at a British car specialist and remember some members of this generation Range Rover coming in for repairs alarmingly often… and this was in 2011.
I thought most of the earlier L322’s used amber LED’s for the rear turn signal (either with an amber or clear lens) and incandescent bulbs behind red lenses for tail/brake lights. It’s kind of opposite the way cars that combine LED and incan bulbs do. I do remember the supercharged ones with clear lenses top and bottom, but had no idea there were Osram Diadem bulbs hiding behind them… and even sort of forgot that there was a red version. The amber ones are more common and much cheaper, though I think all flavors of them might be out of production now.
Yep, that’s pretty much right.
The 2003-2005 (BMW-era) ones had a single taillight design, with an amber lens on top and a red lens at the bottom. The red lens had two bulbs behind it, one for the brake light, and one with two filaments in it for the combination taillight/rear fog light.
The 2006-2009 ones had a clear lens on top. HSE models had the red lens on the bottom and could take ordinary bulbs, but Supercharged, Autobiography and Westminster ones had the clear lens on the bottom and the Osram Diadem bulbs that were actually blue, but lit up red. You could just purchase red bulbs, but it wouldn’t quite look right, since the housing behind the bulb would reflect it. I wanted the proper look.
The 2010+ ones all had a single design again, with clear lenses and ring designs for the taillights; I’m not sure if they were LED or not, but the indicators definitely were.
Interesting, theres no way of checking the trans fluid in my car other than some check bolt but its an Aisin Warner 6 which by all accounts are disgustingly reliable so I’ll just do a fluid change on it some day actually the service counter is telling me that day isnt far away if I do it same time as the engine oil, this car has done less than 10,000kms per year since new and Ive done 10,000 in a few months oh well thats what cars are for.
Gosh, a Range Rover on a flatbed. Who ever saw that before?
Man, that turned out to be way more work than you could have ever imagined. I hope that in spite of all the headaches, though, that it was still learning experience (maybe not with the wallet so much as with the knowledge of old cars).
This series makes me feel better about some of my own automotive choices over the years…Hey, if the costs are covered by the “entertainment” budget of the poster, then it’s all good. It’s the people that think the BabyMama child support money will take care of things or reckon that since it has a new set of wipers it’s set for the next 50k miles that have the real issues…
The mechanic that “specializes” in this specific transmission on this specific vehicle selling one with this specific part not working because he needed money due to business being slow is about the biggest flashing red flag imaginable. Fix the trans with all that available shop time and free knowledge and easily double (or more) the cash on the far quicker sale. It’s more likely the shop owner took the catalytic converter to sell to someone else as a used genuine LR part for a lot more money than the aftermarket knockoff RockAuto one cost. A mechanic to steer well clear of, methinks.
Yes, my sentiments exactly, and I asked that at the outset. Why was he selling it if he could spend a bit of time rebuilding the transmission and double his money? But I figured it was worth the gamble, because I could always offload it (hell, my client was willing to buy it as a parts car for about what I paid) if it didn’t work out.
I also agree that he or his associates themselves cut the catalytic converter off my car…which is why I ultimately decided not to pay him at all, and defied him to pursue the matter further. In court, I could have countersued him for the cost of an OEM catalytic converter, which would far and away have exceeded his fee to swap the transmissions. Besides, he got a free core, which was the original transmission that was in the car, as I didn’t want or need that back.
Wow, awesome to hear ya win one, Kyree! Most automotive endeavors such as this do not pencil.
In true CC effect, I’ve already got a haircut this morning and what did I see leaving? Not common in my small Iowa town…
Pic
Pic again!
Pic again! Grrr
Finally on desktop
Amazing that that’s so rare, but if Land Rover dealers and specialists are scarce, I see why that’s the case. That one is a Range Rover Sport, and appears to be a 2010-2013. It’s probably worth all of $12K at the most.
Goodness… when I read the initial condition of the vehicle, I thought that was going to be a pure horror story. Glad it worked out (relatively) well.
My 2013 Tacoma 4.0 V6 does not have an automatic transmission dip stick or filler tube.
I guess that puts my truck in the same high class company as Range Rovers.
(But this is not exactly what I was going for when I bought the truck).
Same with my Kia Sedona. Sorry if that bursts a bubble. 🙂
Thanks for another enjoyable breakfast read. It’s a look into a world that I avoid like the plague, but I commend you on your perseverance as well as your ability to turn it into a compelling story.
I would say that this LR is pretty much the polar opposite of my’05 xB.
No problem! Yes, it’s definitely the opposite of your “xBox.” Overcomplicated and unlikely to last any significant length of time without serious intervention.
That said, the 6HP26 is fundamentally a good transmission if the fluid gets changed. And, believe it or not, the AJ33/34/41 Jaguar engines are also extremely solid, as long as they don’t overheat. Those are:
– 4.2-liter N/A V8 (2004-2009 XJ, 2006-2009 XK, 2009-2010 XF, 2002-2008 S-Type)
– 4.4-liter N/A V8 (2006-2009 Range Rover HSE, 2006-2009 Range Rover Sport HSE, 2005-2009 LR3/Discovery 3 V8)
– 4.2-liter Supercharged V8 (2006-2009 Range Rover Supercharged, 2006-2009 Range Rover Sport Supercharged, 2006-2009 XKR, 2009-2010 XF Supercharged, 2003-2008 S-Type R)
In 2010, J/LR phased in the new 5.0-liter Jaguar N/A and supercharged V8s, and the early ones of those had some pretty rampant timing chain and tensioner issues, as well as plastic coolant crossover pipes that craze and leak.
I seem to have the same MO: “buy high and sell low”. At least we had fun.
Kyree, why do people like us ignore obvious red flags, and just go for it anyway? It just goes to show that if the selling price is low enough, it becomes the Kryptonite to our common sense. I suppose that we are attracted to the potential adventure in front of us.
I made the effort with my Jaguar adventure, but the cars broke my spirit, and I ultimately bailed.
It’s kind of hard to believe, but its Land Rover that is currently keeping Jaguar afloat!
Land Rovers are so desirable. They look so cool, hip, and upscale. Most people don’t realize how quickly and how far they depreciate. Or how expensive they are to repair. I assume (hope!) that their new vehicles hold together, at least through the new owner’s warranty period.
Congrats on breaking a little bit better than even, on your adventure! I know that doesn’t happen all too often.
The new ones seem to be about as problematic as they ever were. I hear JLR’s new Ingenium I4 and I6 gas engines have issues with weeping head gaskets.
There’s a reason you’d pay substantially more in 2023 for a 2006-era GX 470 or LX 470 than for the much-pricier-when-new Range Rover products.
Kyree, if you were able to buy a house and fool around with these expensive, temperamental cars, that tells me that I should have become a web designer. I’m tempted to say, “Now I know why I drive a Honda Civic,” but I’ve known for a long time.
I’ll remember your trick about where to photograph a car for sale. If the house is occupied, I’ll figure I can ask the occupants’ permission to photograph my car there.
I salute you for taking the plunge and coming out with money in your pocket in the end (even if only a little). I see this as like running into a burning building and coming out with no injuries – it’s a wonderful result, as long as you don’t assume you can safely do it more than once. 🙂
I had the honor working on those for their roadside assistance program.
Maybe not the most unreliable cars on the planet, I can imagine a Lada or Yugo being worse, but the number of these that broke down within the first 6 months of ownership were high, real high. Horrible cars in a very pretty suit.
A gusty first move, followed by some reasonably calculated follow-up ones, resulting in a minor win. Well done.
Your pricing of the man hours is wry. Reminds me of those house renovation brain-drainer shows where “We did it all in three days for $10k” or somesuch, when in truth, the 37 people working on it out of camera shot cost $110K in labour.
Like any fool, I love the look and drive of these RR’s, but even smitten thus I’d never touch any vehicle that, in diesel form – the default outside US – one needs to REMOVE THE BODY FROM THE CHASSIS to replace the turbos when they blow, which they all do.
There’ll always be an England….
I assume you are referring to the 3.6-liter and later 4.4-liter “Lion” V8 turbodiesels (TDV8).
I’m not sure if that’s true, because these L322s are fully unibody. You’d be pulling or dropping the engine from the bay, if it’s that involved. There’s no separate frame.
Now, the original L320 Range Rover Sport got the 3.6-liter TDV8, but not the 4.4-liter. The Range Rover Sport had a stiff unibody, bolted to a ladder frame that carried the powertrain and suspension. On that one, you could lift the body to do major engine work.
The L319 Discovery 3/4 (LR3/4) was essentially a boxier, longer-wheelbase sibling of the L320 Range Rover Sport and had the same unibody/BOF hybrid structure, but it never got the TDV8. It did get the 2.7-liter “Lion” TD6, which shared the same architecture as the TDV8s; I’m not sure if you needed to pull the body to do work on it, though.
Quite right you are. Like many people, I have difficulty distinguishing the various RR types, (something I think is a marketing boo-boo on their part, especially the current line-up).
Still, it seems that to replace the L322 turbos, one still has to drop the engine out, so there’ll always be half an England.
Perhaps better for the designers to have a look at those pesky Japanese and their Landcruiser turbo-diesel V8’s, whose turbos take about 300K miles to wear out, and can be replaced through the wheel wells.
You sir, are a brave, brave man!