“SEE?!” Jeremy shouted, climbing out to inspect the damage. The grille was full of leaves, the interior had two inches of brown water, and the infotainment screen was flickering in Morse code. “Character! The Jeep didn’t have character. It just had… not drowning.”
The trouble began five minutes into the first jungle trail. The Raptor, you see, is six inches wider than the Silverado and four inches wider than the Jeep. On a normal road, that’s “presence.” On a Colombian mountain pass carved by donkeys, where the road was a single muddy groove between a rock face and a 2,000-foot drop, it was a problem . grand tour ford raptor episode
The final insult came on a flat, dusty plain. Here, the Raptor was finally in its element. Hammond was bouncing around in the Jeep, feeling every pebble. May in the Chevy was complaining about the ride quality. Jeremy, meanwhile, was floating on a cloud of Fox Racing suspension, hitting washboard roads at 70 mph as if he were on a magic carpet. “SEE
But physics, and The Grand Tour , always have the last laugh. The Raptor’s sheer size, which was its superpower on the open desert, became its kryptonite on the final “bridge”—two rotten logs laid over a swamp. The Jeep danced across. The Chevy tip-toed. The Raptor’s front tires went on the logs, and the back tires… went on either side. The result was a 6,000-pound pickup performing an unplanned, slow-motion split, its belly resting on the mud while its wheels spun helplessly. The Jeep didn’t have character
Water exploded over the hood. The engine note changed from a roar to a gurgle. For a horrible moment, nothing. Then, with a deep, mechanical cough , the big V6 cleared its throat and powered on. The Raptor clawed its way up the opposite bank, mud and water streaming from its wheel arches, looking like a prehistoric beast emerging from a tar pit.