evox

At this time of year rural pubs heave with chicken-calved walkers wearing rucksacks after the style of a medieval jousting weapon. Every time they turn round to discuss one of the many exciting, wind enhancing, real ales customers are battered senseless.
All yards from civilisation. The wildlife wears T-shirts, shorts and flip-flops. This countryside is only red in lip and false acrylic nail.
So why the Trek-Nepal boots and Hebridian fisherman's socks? When does the German submarine captain want his pullover back?
For sanity's sake, Moses led the tribes of Israel out of Egypt in only his nightshirt .
What is really annoying is the glaring at drivers as if they were piloting the very horses of the apocalypse.
And the harder the car, the harder the stare.
Therefore, in the Lancer Evolution X I might just as well have been stark naked with my arm around the vicar's wife. Or her husband.
In no way could the Evo be described as anonymous. Which should come as a relief to anyone who has paid £32,349 for an FQ 300.
Of course in the current climate an Evo is not going to impress many beyond the PlayStation generation. And apparently they won't have saved up for one until the ice has melted and we are all getting around in canoes.
The 300 is the acceptable face of Evo ownership, if such a state of grace exists. A full 1.6 seconds slower to 60mph than the 4.1 second 380, it still has the same top speed of 155mph but from a tamer two-litre turbocharged engine delivering 291bhp.
That, as it turns out, is no reason to scorn the softer of the three versions. The 300 has a paddle shift automatic, dual-clutch gearbox and such precise handling that it seems much quicker than the numbers predict. I defy anyone who has ever had even the slightest interest in driving not to get a buzz from the keenness of the X entering a corner.
At which point in the past you would have loaded the Evo onto its trailer and towed it away from the track in something less punishing to the spine. Not now.
The tenth incarnation is obviously going to be a hard ride but is as happy on the road as the latest Scooby Impreza. The difference being that the 300 does not look like it was designed by a council planning committee.
Inside, like a minor road accident, there is nothing much to look at. Move along please to the brilliant seats and a brilliant touch-screen sat nav.
Cost of ownership? Oh, come on. This is something you want not need. Fuel consumption at no better than 26mpg is cheeky. At a low end 16mpg it's brazen. However, unlike earlier versions the X does not need servicing every 30 minutes.
This is assured jump starting of the heart. The better road manners just make buying one more justifiable.
Which will have you marked down as an enemy of the state but even with grew six, ten-foot legs it still beats walking.

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