With the oiled plough scything nicely through the snow,
Jeremy and I swung into action.
Let's grit.
The gritting is going well, Hammond.
Oh, tank slapper!
-I've lost my wedding ring! -What?
-I've lost my wedding ring! -Has it gone in the thing?
It must have done.
That's a tricky one to explain.
Soon, though, we had bigger things to worry about than Hammond's ring.
Hang on. Whoa!
-What was that? -I nearly went through the windscreen.
But a snowy hillock was no match for the Dominator.
Right, take this, snow!
Charge!
-Yes! -We're through!
However, while the battering ram was okay in this lonely place...
No, no, no, no! Don't do it!
...the rear-wheel steering was a nightmare.
No, no, no. Tank slapper.
It's got a mind of its own!
And on the hills, we had a serious power shortage.
James, is that full-speed?
Yes, it is.
Okay, that's enough. Go back. You're digging holes. Don't do that!
Stuck.
If you think about it, a combine harvester is designed to never work in the snow,
or the rain, or on a hill.
It is always flat ground on lovely summer's evenings.
It's out of its comfort zone here.
Which meant that, sadly, so was I.
Jesus!
He'll want the Victoria Cross now for using a shovel.
Yeah, he will.
Will I just raise the plough and take his head off?
Yes. Oh, for God's sake!
Each kilometre was now a gruelling challenge.
Go!
Stop!
And my ingenious snow-measuring tactic did not go brilliantly.
That's a lot harder there.
But the Top Gear snowbine kept on moving.
Go! Full power!
Look at us carving a path.
-Look, that's us. -I know.
This road is open and will remain so until it snows again!
Tonight, probably. Or tomorrow.
Warning. The Top Gear Snowbine Harvester is approaching!
It's really annoying. For the first time in my life,
I've got one of those Tannoy things and there's absolutely nobody to talk to.
James, there is one kilometre to go!
One kilometre and this road is open.
Who fancies a celebratory Bovril when we get there?
Unless Bovril is a code word for something dirty, I don't want to do that.
Hang on, getting a bit of a tank slapper. It's wandering off!
Oh, no! Getting a tank slapper, it's flat out.
[bleep]
This time, we had come off the road and into a massive snowdrift.
-Jesus wept. -That is a lot of snow.
The snow out here that we are in is incredibly deep.
Yes, that's what I feared. It felt quite deep as it went off the edge.
You can see the extent of the problem is quite big.
The whole machine is... [bleep]
So one wheel was stuck and one was spinning uselessly.
Full power!
It's not going to do it.
Spurred on by the previous day's failures, we dug furiously.
Just for once, I want to do something properly.
I want to clear this road and do it.
No cocking about.
This is coming out of here.
Rock it back. Now forwards!
That feels abusive.
I'm wearing the clutch out. Hang on, it's starting to smell.
Don't stop, James! Don't stop...
With darkness falling and the temperature dropping,
this was no time for mechanical sympathy.
Come on, James. Come on. We can do this.
Oh, nearly!
Go, go, yes!
Yes! Come on! Come on! Come on!
It's out!
Yes!
Yes! Yes! Yes...
That's it. Climb aboard.
The Dominator surged forwards.
Soon, our destination hove into view.
We are so nearly there...
Look at that!
That is a blaze of glory!
A blaze of glory, grit and Bovril.
Ladies and gentlemen, the Top Gear Snowbine Harvester has arrived.
And so, there we are. For once in our wretched lives on this programme,
we'd actually done what we set out to do.
-You know what? -What?
We've been ambitious and brilliant and it is all thanks to the Dominator.
Successful.
Gentleman, it's been a pleasure ploughing with you.
It's been a joy and an honour.
-That was the right road, wasn't it? -Yeah.