PURCHASING AN OVERLAND ICON
I sat on the couch, a beer in my hand, a chest heavy with anxiety, and unable to fully engage in the conversations taking place all around me. My mind was preoccupied with thoughts of a faded white 60 Series Toyota Land Cruiser with a bad power steering pump, terrible suspension, and thousands of dollars worth of repairs just to get it in safe driving condition. For over a year I had been looking for the perfect vehicle to buy and turn into my dream overland rig. My requirements were simple; the vehicle needed to be reliable with as few wires as possible. A few dings and a bit of rust were a bonus. This 60 Series had all of this and more with its squishy brakes and terrifying body roll. The moment the test drive started I could feel the anxiety building in my chest and it continued to worsen with each downhill turn. I spent that whole evening jumping back and forth, but the pit in my stomach was all the answer I needed. This 60 Series wasn’t the one. The next day my girlfriend Olivia told me “if you are going to buy a vehicle, we might as well buy our dream vehicle."
In my early twenties, my quest to find a vehicle of adequate character took me in a direction I was quite unfamiliar with, a 1990s Land Rover Defender 110. I had come across a video of a white 110 laden with gear, traversing the African bush. I was immediately enamored by the hard body lines and accessories mounted in every conceivable location. In pursuit of more knowledge, I binge-watched YouTube videos of people living out of Land Rovers and comparisons of Defenders and Troop Carriers. In the early months of Defender infatuation, I developed the fantasy of finding a broke down Defender 110 or Series 109, buying it for next to nothing, then spending the next few years piecing it back to serviceable condition. Funny enough, this fantasy was the beginning of the end for my dreams of Defender ownership.
A quick search revealed to me the difficulties of rebuilding one of these vehicles stateside, the endless hours and countless dollars spent. At the end of this tunnel, if you ever got there, was a vehicle that appeared to still need constant attention to keep it on the trail. This sounded like a story that would test even the most devoted Land Rover fan, in fact, it sounded exactly like the story of Live Work Wander and their problematic VW Synchro. Working on vehicles is part of the process, but when it becomes so frequent that it continuously eats away at precious time and money that could be spent going places, one must reassess their vehicle choice.
The final nail in the coffin was in the summer of 2018 when Olivia bought a low mileage 3rd Gen 4Runner in near perfect stock condition. The two of us learned quickly that these vehicles just keep going, they handle everything you throw at it and the next morning start up ready to do it again. The 4Runner exceeded my requirements for reliability, but it lacked the simplicity and utilitarian nature I was searching for. While adapting the 4runner to our needs, Olivia and I found ourselves in the parking lot of The Fit Garage in Bend Oregon. Next to us sat an icon of the overlanding world and quite a rare find in the States.
In the months leading up to the 4runner upgrades, Olivia and I had been following The Fit Garage and the build of their new shop vehicle with close attention. The 4Runner had made us believers in the reputation of older Toyotas, but this shop vehicle was something entirely different. The Toyota Troop Carrier is impossible to miss when scouring the internet for the classics of overlanding. It stands up there in stature with the Defender, but is known by NGOs, mining companies and militaries as a reliable workhorse. I had never seen a Troopy in person and the first thing that stood out to me was the size of it. It was big. Not in the American sense, but in terms of off-road Toyotas. Everything from the wool seat covers to the rust on the hood added to the aura of the vehicle.
It wasn’t just me who was smitten with this white whale of a vehicle. Olivia too recognized the functionality of the Troopy platform. In the months that followed, the two of us would find ourselves traveling through the eastern deserts of Oregon and the sandstone waves of Moab, loving the 4Runners technical prowess but yearning for better living quarters. It was during these two trips we realized extended vehicle-borne travel could provide us with fulfillment. For Olivia, it was the access to uncrowded public land and endless hiking. For me it was an escape from the paved path and the exploration of forgotten areas.
As we planned our future, a Troop Carrier became a key player. On the horizon, we envisioned importing a Troopy just before embarking on a year-long expedition across the Americas. This plan was the impetus for pursuing financial freedom and became a driving force in many of our decisions. In late July 2019, a day after driving that terrifying 60 Series, Olivia reasoned that in the long run it would save us money to simply buy our dream vehicle now. Minutes later we were scheduling a phone call with The Fit Garage to discuss options. A week later I was in the driver seat and we were bouncing our way up a rocky dirt road to the tune of a straight piped turbo diesel and a fully stocked camp kitchen.
The test drive was an introduction to an entirely different breed of vehicle that prioritized function over form yet delivered on both. We hadn’t even finished exiting the parking lot of The Fit Garage and I knew I wanted to take the Troopy home. Driving a vehicle like this is a full-bodied experience that engages all of your senses: the smell of diesel exhaust, the harmony of a thousand mechanical vibrations, the whine of the transmission. It demands your attention as the lack of computers heightens your awareness and the creaking of a parabolic suspension pulls you back to the moment. Driving is no longer a tedious chore, but a fulfilling experience that pays in an intimate understanding of your build. This is the character and simplicity I had been searching for.
As we finished our drive and rolled back into a shop filled with JDM 4x4s and even a D110 and Series 109, I couldn’t help but think of how things had come to be. The thousands of choices that led me to the driver seat of an overland icon and presented me with the decision of whether to buy it. Sure, a few sections had rusted out and it had a leak or two, but I had no doubt this would be a reliable vehicle. The simplicity of it gave me confidence in my ability to learn and perform maintenance in the field. It made for a simple decision. Olivia and I knew buying this 1985 HJ75 Toyota Land Cruiser was an opportunity we couldn’t pass.
