Once I’ve tightened the shoulder straps down over a Hans device, my range of head movement is extremely limited. There are also large bolsters to the left and right of my head, essential for limiting movement when the cabin is subjected to 10g-plus impacts. One has to rely on peripheral vision for some of the switchgear.
Fortunately, it’s not like there’s a complicated touchscreen by your knees or anything, so the controls are very straightforward. England advises that I palm the steering wheel with my left hand, which steers the front wheels, while keeping my right hand on an upright metal handle, topped with a small left-right toggle switch, which turns the rears.
A finger stretch in front of that, a second toggle switch has two positions: pushed forwards, the rear wheels automatically recentre when you stop thumbing the switch; flicked backwards, the rear wheels retain whatever angle you’ve left them. It’s primarily used for doughnuts.
There is a push-to-talk radio button, a screen with rev counter and, most importantly, a temperature gauge. On a bank of switches to the right of my head, there are cut-off, ignition and starter switches, plus those for fans, fuel pump and lamps. Low to my right is the dog-legged gearlever.
It feels to me like a daunting place to sit, an unnatural environment even for somebody who drives a lot of vehicles. And that’s even before I start the engine.
Performance and handling
To start a Monster Jam truck, rotate the big red battery cut-off switch clockwise, flick on the ignition locker and push the start button. Then cower as the big-block race engine behind you vibrates your internal organs, and don’t forget to flick the supplementary switches to bring the fans and fuel pump into life.
The noise is uncomfortable. It’s quite a smooth engine but it’s loud, idling at around 2000rpm, with a quick blip of the throttle taking it to 5000rpm. But it’s a deep, stomach- and chest-troubling sound rather than an ear-splitting one.
Put your foot on the brake, haul the transmission back to first gear and, as you ease off the long-travel, steadily weighted brake pedal, the Digatron will creep forwards like a conventional automatic, on idle at a little over walking pace.
