The Cool Truck

This weekend's trip to Cape Town reminded me again what a very cool truck I'm driving.

If I'm in the Disco 2, it's just another vehicle on the road. No-one waves at you, no-one notices you go by.

Completely different story in Olivia!

She potters along, so traffic tends to build up behind her on narrow roads. You'd think this would irritate the masses, but we found the opposite. Those falling-apart cars full of locals? They came past hooting and waving and smiling. We got lifted-hand acknowledgement (and respec' !) from other Landy drivers. While parked up at Big Bay one woman walking by commented "when I grow up I want to drive a Landy".

DAMN, this truck is awesome.

Just this morning I was trundling along the commute route when a Pajero-driver in the next lane rolled down his window and shouted "check that clutch leg! I used to have two of those trucks" (in Afrikaans.. approximate translation). I have to admit, you do build leg muscles on the clutch. :-)

The security guards at the complex know my truck - boom gates open while you're still on the approach stretch. They told Favourite Man earlier this week "we like this truck".

Think about it - do you get the same happy reaction driving your Toyota bakkie, or a little Mazda 323, your run-of-the-mill LR Defender, or even a classig MG? Nope.

This truck's seen as fun, as cool, as something folk might dream of owning one day. They may have no idea about the engine struggles, the parts difficulties, the endless turning of the damn carb behind the scenes - but they see Olivia and go "wow".

Who wouldn't. She's awesome!

Ride Baby!

This is the vehicle I'm driving today. A UK-registered 300TDi that's seen some hard adventure action.





Nope, I haven't traded in the O-beast. She's sitting at home, carb-less thanks to an experiment in reconditioning by the owner of the above vehicle last night, which left her unable to go anywhere until certain things are fixed.... So today I'm driving his truck while he's overnighting in Cape Town.

The truck was shipped out by a 70-ish-old couple from the UK for their third 6-month trip in it, arriving and leaving from Namibia. It's dusty, it's dirty, it's got things that are threatening to part company with each other and the truck, it's fully overland kitted, it's been-there-done-that. It's a serious Landy, a REAL Landy.

It's my first shot at Defender driving, and my first experience with the 300TDi engine. I'm impressed with the power it has - even loaded down that much it tackled hills that both Olivia and Favourite Man's Discovery 2 TD5 can't handle well. The 5-speed gearbox and close gear changes took some getting used to, but it moves excellently. And needless to say it's the coolest thing on in traffic today :-)

Classics

New cars are all good and well. There's something to be said for aircon, no unidentified rattles/squeaks/scraping noises, a smooth quiet ride with the possibility of both music and conversation, shiny paint-job, reliability, and enough debt to buy a small house with.

But I think I like the classics better.

My first car was a 1970s Mini, acquired for a mere R2,000. It was dark blue with a vinyl sunroof that liked to collect rain - and pour it down your neck when you turned left. The spare in the boot was balanced on the only remaining strut that hadn't rusted through. There were holes in the floor under the carpet - driving through a deep puddle in winter would not only cut the electricts, but leave your feet sloshing around, after which the most incredible tiny mushrooms would grow under the seats. Sometimes the bush would fall off the gear lever - preferably in rush-hour traffic, where you'd be stuck in 4th gear and have to rev to immense heights to get going. Sometimes the fuel guage would give in, but for that we kept a length of hosepipe in the car - stick it in the fuel tank, turn it around - if it goes "splosh" you're OK, if it goes "clonk" go fill up. A bit of an adventure to drive, but we went everywhere. We even fitted 8 people, their surfboards and their bodyboards in - and went to the beach. Riding very low... :-) That car took me to Tech every day, to towns near and far, got stuck in sand dunes, got push-started in high heels. Even after we sold it, it brought interesting times. It's plates were found on a stolen VW Bug two years later!

Next car was an 80's Honda Ballade in dark charcoal grey. Again, not without its issues. But it went very well - until I got a neighbour to replace the brakes, after which it basically collapsed bit by bit. My mechanic eventually got so fed up that the last time he towed it he didn't return it. Instead he phoned to say it had been sold and he'd have another car for me within a week.

Enter the golden brown Ford. The Friggin'Ford, as it's affectionatly known. Also an 80's model, a 2 litre Sierra. It's been the one car that hasn't failed us spectacularly. It's tackled corrugated farm roads, mountain passes, town trips - and although we sometimes wonder if it will make it, it's done well. We've sorted out things like brakes that didn't brake, and doors that didn't lock. There are still issues in the thing that holds the hatchback boot up, a bit of a leak in wet weather, and some rust. But it's services with only one thing left to fix at the mechanic's - wear-and-tear backlash on the diffs, to be done in January. Just before my mechanic sells up his business and leaves. Probably time to up my car-fixing ability...!

Which brings us to Olivia. My first Landy - but definitely not the last. I look at the more modern ones and think that they're nice, but my heart is with the Series models. Tough, built to last, proven, simple to work on, with a distinctive style and sound, and oh-so-cool.

Already I'm looking at getting the kid a Series shorty when he's old enough to drive instead of something more modern. Alternatives to that would be the ancient round-shaped VW Kombi or - yes - a Mini. But I think we'll stick with the Landies. They're go-anywhere vehicles, can haul a multitude of friends or the most delicate of girlfriends, take a bit of late-teen driving and still come out OK on the other side.

So here's to the classics. Firmly embedded in this particular family's hearts, oiling up the driveways and providing adrenalin (whether through failed brakes on a mountain, something falling off on a highway, or the mere thrill of driving them) at every turn. Long may they chug on.