You can feel that low-end grunt right from the moment you engage first gear from the sequential ’box and release the clutch. In some respects, the All4 Racing is like a typical rally car, in that it feels very butch and not as refined as the touring car I drive.
As soon as you pull away, though, it’s impossible to keep the smile from spreading across your face; the car whistles away as the two massive turbos start to spin up.
Driving in the dunes is so much fun. If the car is burying itself in the sand at low revs, you just keep your foot in and it lifts itself up and glides across the ruts like a hovercraft. It’s an amazing sensation.
The Mini is set up to be quite soft, so when you come off the power it pitches on the front end and you get really good turn-in, which is useful if you want to avoid a rock or a tree. I was amazed at how well the suspension coped with that kind of driving and how much precision there is. At high speeds, however, it will do lovely four-wheel drifts.
One difference to my racing BMW is the braking. The way the car is set up, it gives you no option but to use left-foot braking. The brakes didn’t feel very sharp, but that’s because I’m used to touring car brakes on a tarmac track, whereas in the Dakar car you’re trying to stop on sand. It’s a different ball game altogether.
Most competition cars I’ve driven have been stripped bare for weight saving, but the All4 Racing is different. Few production parts remain – the lights, door handles and windscreen are from the standard Countryman – but there are spare parts, tools and useful kit stowed in every available space.
Read the full Mini Countryman review
The heaviest are mounted as low as possible to keep the centre of gravity down. The Mini can house up to three spare tyres inside the rear hatch. Nani Roma, winner of this year’s Dakar, tells me that the sturdy, heavy wheels used to be mounted on the roof or on the back of the car, but putting them in the boot makes a tremendous difference to how the car handles and lands over jumps.
The punishment the car can take is breathtaking. As I got comfortable with it and drove further into the desert dunes, the Italian co-driver sitting with me told me to slow down.
It was good advice; when you get up to a certain speed you can’t see the dips in the dunes so easily. The terrain looks flat, but it really isn’t. It’s a bit like when you’re on the water in a powerboat: the sea looks flat but you’re jumping over the big waves.
It is amazing when you come over some of those dunes and drop down into very fine sand, which is like sinking into a swamp. You get back on the power and although the car is at very low revs, all of a sudden it just pulls. You don’t even have to go down through the gears because it powers out of those situations with that incredible torque.
In place of the road car’s 47-litre fuel tank, the All4 Racing gets a massive 360-litre tank in the rear. The rules stipulate that each car in the Dakar must be able to cover a minimum distance of 497 miles to reduce the risk of crews running out of juice in the desert.
It was very hot in the cabin, similar to what I experience in my touring car, the difference being that Dakar competitors race for six or seven hours at a time. The first thing I noticed when I met Nani Roma was his incredible strength; when I shook his hand, he nearly dislocated my shoulder without realising. Dakar is like a sprint race these days, so the drivers have to be phenomenally fit.