Overland Journal :: Gear 2011 by Overland Journal

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Content 2

Best of Breed

Overland Tested

SEMA Showcase

Cargo Boxes

News from the Trade

The Auspit

Favorite Kit

J8 Jeep

On the Cover: "The New Best of Breed." Cover image design by AEV/Jacob Lichner. Back Cover: South of the Vermilion Cliffs. Photo by Jonathan Hanson. Overland Journal Gear 2011

Gear 2011

Field Journal

Departments

Australian Outback by Audi

Overland Post

2011 Land Rovers

Editor's Column

Grand Canyon by Royal Enfield

Editor's Project

Overland News

117

Classic Kit: Coffee

128

Tail Lamp: Campfire Stories

111

Project Vehicle: Range Rover Classic

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Gear 2011 Publisher and Chairman Scott Brady President and Director of Design Stephanie Brady Executive Editor Jonathan Hanson Editorial Director Chris Marzonie Senior Editor, Africa Graham Jackson Conservation Editor Roseann Hanson Medical Editor Dr. Edward Beggy Contributing Editors Stephen Bodio, Tom Collins, Brian DeArmon, Adam Jeske, Christine Jeske, Lois Pryce, Andrew Moore, Kevin Rowland, Chris Scott, Tom Sheppard, Mark Stephens Cartographer David Medeiros Graphic Designer Jacob Lichner Senior Photographer, South America Jorge Valdés Photographer At-Large Sinuhe Xavier Director of Business Development Brian McVickers Director of PR and Marketing Ray Hyland Director of Operations Jeremy Edgar Contact Overland Journal LLC PO Box 1150 Prescott, AZ 86302 service@overlandjournal.com editor@overlandjournal.com Overland Journal is a trademark of Overland Journal LLC. All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission is prohibited. overlandjournal.com LET US KNOW WHAT YOU THINK Send comments to editor@overlandjournal.com or PO Box 1150, Prescott, AZ 86302

Subscriptions Payment must accompany all orders. 5 issues/year Online at www.overlandjournal.com or PO Box 1150, Prescott, AZ 86302 Domestic & Canada (USD) 1 year $45, 2 years $80, 3 years $112 International (USD) 1 year $75, 2 years $140, 3 years $202 Back Issues Payment must accompany all single-copy orders. Domestic & Canada $17 USD (includes p&h) International $22 USD (includes p&h) Online at overlandjournal.com or PO Box 1150, Prescott, AZ 86302 Advertising advertising@overlandjournal.com Moving? Send address changes to service@overlandjournal.com. Include complete old address, with zip code, as well as new address. Allow two to four weeks for address change to become effective. Postmaster Send address changes to: Overland Journal LLC PO Box 1150 Prescott, AZ 86302

Overland Journal Gear 2011

OverlandPost Mom and Baby doing fine We arrived for our scheduled C-Section at 6:00 a.m. Then two other women arrived who needed emergency C-Sections, so we got stuck waiting for two and a half hours. My wife needed something to do—what better time to get her to start reading Overland Journal than now? Stephen Burton 2000 Jeep Cherokee 2000 Grand Cherokee

He came out of the womb as an Overland Journal fan. Ewan, born April 2010, and mom, Sarah.

Recommendation

I liked your article about using PMI gloves for winching. So much so that I looked around until I found a pair. I just installed a Warn M8000 on my Tacoma and knew I wouldn’t feel comfortable using it without a proper set of gloves, so these are a godsend. Thanks for your recommendation, and Happy New Year! Steven Sheffield 1997 Toyota Tacoma V6 with too many goodies to mention

Reference Material

Frank Discussion

I appreciated Kevin Rowland’s Diesel and Alternative Fuels column in the Winter, 2010 issue. It was a frank discussion on the current state of not just electric cars, but also society in general. So thank you for publishing it. Now, if somebody could please explain why North America doesn’t get the diesel engines the rest of the world has, such as in the 2011 Jeep Wrangler? Nathanael Kuenzli 2007 Toyota Tacoma

I would like to commend you on your publishing job—I enjoy Overland Journal and cannot seem to put it down until it’s read completely. I find myself returning to reference articles as well. Job well done, thank you and keep it up!

Write us a note

I’d like to comment on your review of sleeping bags. The Butler Mild Climate is a bag I like; it reminds me of an old forest service bag I own—built well, but massive. It’s at home if I’m on horseback, or in my rig it stores in the unrolled position in my older ARB roof tent.

Where in the world has your Overland Journal been? Send us a photo, along with your name,

Jordan Pawley 2004 Silverado, 1992 Daihatsu Overland Journal Gear 2011

attention: Overland Post editor@overlandjournal.com PO Box 1150 Prescott, AZ 86302

the location, and a brief description.

a fan on Facebook to communicate with us CONNECT Become and other readers and get up to date information on SHARE what we're up to, the latest trips, and newest gear.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Contributors

Tom Sheppard

Chris Scott

Chris Collard

Gary & Monika Wescott

Ian Glover

Jacob Lichner

Tom has an exploration career spanning 50 years, and totaling over 110,000 overland miles since 1960, including significant exploration in northern Africa and the first-ever lateral crossing of the Sahara from the Atlantic to the Red Sea. Tom is a freelance writer/ photographer and consultant, and author of the Vehicle Dependent Expedition Guide and the new The Nobility of Wilderness (Desert Winds). From the Royal Geographical Society, Tom has received the Ness Award, and the distinction ARPS (Associate of the Royal Photographic Society).

Over the last 25 years Chris has undertaken nearly 30 expeditions through the Sahara by motorcycle, 4WD, saloon car, or bush taxi. This has given him an unparalleled knowledge of the practicalities of desert travel across the entire Sahara, both as a tourist, a driver/rider, and as a tour leader. In 2000 and 2001 he led the first U.K. escorted tours to return to Algeria and Libya, and in 2006 he led an exclusive tour to view the total solar eclipse in Niger and continues to offer tours to little-known parts of the Sahara.

Chris’s early years riding dirt bikes in Baja, Mexico, with his father lead to a life-long passion for overland adventures. His journalism career has taken him from Australia and Bolivia to Iceland and Morocco; corporate clients include Mopar, Jeep, Hummer, Warn, and ARB, to name a few. A recent two-month, 12,000-kilometer solo trek through southern Africa landed the 43rd country stamp on his passport. He is a current contributor to magazines in a dozen countries, and his work has been published in National Geographic Adventure, Cigar Aficionado, American Way, and Heartland USA. Chris’s favorite quote: “We are never lost . . . just exploring a bit.”

10 10

Gary & Monika Wescott have spent the last 37 years traveling around the world, from the arid deserts of Afghanistan and Chile, to the deepest jungles of the Brazilian Amazon, and across the frozen steppes of Siberia in the dead of winter. In 1972 Gary created The Turtle Expedition, Unltd. His travel/adventure stories have been published in 15 countries and 10 languages. From the beginning, The Turtle Expedition’s motto has been, “Don’t take the trip. Let the trip take you!” The essence of an adventure is not knowing how it’s going to come out.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Initially with his father and later in his own 4WDs, Ian has been exploring Australia since early childhood. A past editor of many Aussie 4WD magazines, he lives in central western New South Wales on a family farm, but is moving back to Sydney because of business commitments. He has done many expeditions since 1978 in all parts of the Great South Land, his favourite destinations being badlands, and has written a best-selling book on Australia’s 17 deserts. Ian has been happily married (to the same wife) for 25 years and has three teenage sons, all of whom seem to have the same love of the great outdoors as their parents.

Jacob Lichner is a graphic designer and photographer working out of Phoenix, Arizona, where he resides with his wife, Alyssa, daugther Gwenyth, and chow chow Nala.

Subscribe overlandjournal.com

Or send a check or money order, along with your name, address, and e-mail or phone number to: Overland Journal, PO Box 1150, Prescott, AZ 86302 Domestic & Canada (USD) 5 issues/year $45 1 year $80 2 years $112 3 years International (USD) 5 issues/year $75 1 year $140 2 years $202 3 years "The publication for environmentally responsible, worldwide vehicle-supported expedition and adventure travel."

Searchable ISSUE INDEX Can’t find what you’re

looking for?

Neither could we. Introducing the Overland Journal index. A comprehensive searchable index of all back issues. Search. Find. Easy. overlandjournal.com/index

on Twitter for real-time updates on our reviews and expeditions.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Contributors

Tina Payne

Tina was born in Johannesburg, South Africa, and most of her childhood vacations were spent on safari. With an insatiable curiosity and a love of the African bush, Tina (with her husband, Dave) launched Front Runner Outfitters, a vehicle accessories web store, in 2009. Tina and Dave currently live with their son Jack, and one more on the way, in Los Angeles, California. She and her family return home to Africa for an overlanding trip into the bush at least once a year.

Thomas Wielecki

If Thomas doesn’t get away from the road most traveled at least once every six months he begins to choke. Through photography he expresses his joy of being in the middle of nowhere—his first published pictures came as a result of a solo motorcycle trip around Australia in 1988. Subsequently he studied journalism, and now contributes to numerous local and international publications. His preferred studio is the open road and his favourite subjects the people he meets along the way. Thomas lives in Sydney, Australia, with his wife Jane, children Matilda and Enzo, and a very excitable dog named Abbey.

Lois Pryce

Weary of the daily grind in jargon-infested London media-land, Lois Pryce jacked in her job at the BBC to ride from Alaska to Tierra del Fuego astride her Yamaha XT225. Upon her return she wrote the book of this trip, Lois on the Loose, which was published in the U.S. and the U.K., as well as being translated into German and Dutch. Itchy wheels struck again and it wasn’t long before she was poring over maps of Africa, plotting another adventure. In October 2006 she set off on a Yamaha TTR250 to ride from London to Cape Town, crossing the Sahara through Algeria and Niger and continuing down the west coast through the Congo and Angola to South Africa. The tale of this trip is captured in her book Red Tape and White Knuckles. Lois lives on a Dutch barge in London with her husband, fellow motorcycle adventurer Austin Vince.

12 12

Graham Jackson

Graham Jackson was born in Lesotho in Southern Africa. He grew up racing motorcycles in the dirt as well as helping his father design, build and race off-road buggies. Graham completed his first safari across the Kalahari at age 10 in a Range Rover with his family. This trip planted the seed for Graham's lifelong overlanding obsession. In 2004 he completed a 30,000 mile overland adventure from London to Cape Town. He has guided expeditions in Africa, the American West, Mexico and Central America, and has been an active supporter of the global overland community. A scientist by trade, Graham tries to combine his interest in the natural world, his passion for overlanding and his love of things mechanical. He is now director of Overland Training.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Brian DeArmon

Riding on four wheels or two, the soles of his boots, or the saddle of a horse, Brian DeArmon has spent most of his life exploring the wonders of nature. This obsession has taken him from the Rocky Mountains, to the Gold Coast of Australia, the beaches of the Seychelles Islands, the frozen landscapes of Alaska, and a few places in between. Settled now in the Sonoran Desert, Brian is enjoying a lull in the fast pace of life before the next adventure begins.

Our promise to you

NO COMPROMISE We carefully screen all contributions to ensure they are independent and impartial. We never have and never will accept advertorial, and we do not allow advertising to influence our product or destination reviews.

You have our word

Overland Journal Gear 2011

EDITOR'S LETTER

SUSTAINABLE Early last year, out of curiosity and a desire to investigate how much of America shops now, I visited an Ikea store—oh, sorry, I guess I’m supposed to write IKEA. I resolved to be objective, because, despite the big-box aspect, I’d read about the company’s much-publicized environmental programs—reducing the use of formaldehyde and PVC, for example, even buying lumber from sustainable sources. However, five minutes into my visit I was already aghast at the mounds, the piles, the mountains of stuff on offer. Is the average U.S. shopper more attracted to a rattan chair if it’s one of 500 identical rattan chairs clearly just out of a container that was undoubtedly one of 500 containers full of the same chair? It had the opposite effect on me, that’s for sure. Furthermore, the layout of the windowless building was obviously arranged to channel customers in a one-way labyrinth past everything in the store, even if all you came for was a rattan chair. Creepy. I got the distinct feeling that if I turned around and tried to move against the herd, an employee with a cattle prod would show up to correct me. Regarding the sustainable lumber claim: I looked at some of IKEA’s famous flat-pack, customer-assembled furniture (supposedly designed to save container space and thus fuel for shipping), but everything I saw was made from particle board and melamine. I realize particle board can be made from lumber byproducts, but does that make it sustainable? When a particle-board bookshelf warps or pops its fasteners, you can’t repair it—it’s dumpster food.

14 14

“I got the distinct feeling that if I turned around and tried to move against the herd, an employee with a cattle prod would show up to correct me.”

On the other hand, consider the new (to me) desk I bought at an antique mall last year. No particle board here: It’s solid oak with a leather top, compact enough so it doesn’t take up the entire living area of our 350-square-foot cottage. One of the (properly dovetailed) drawers was replaced expertly but just noticeably at some point in its well-patinated past. Sustainable? The documentation with the desk described it as dating from the 1840s—and now it has embarked on a new working life with me. Now that’s what I call sustainable. What does that have to do with overlanding equipment? Well, I’m sitting at that 160-year-old desk, looking out the window at my 37-year-old FJ40, which just turned over 320,000 miles. I think the lesson is clear . . . JONATHAN HANSON Executive Editor

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Editor’s

Project Jonathan Hanson

The Perfect Overlanding Tool Kit, part 2 Starting with socket sets, the editor begins equipping his one-case tool kit

hen I began considering exactly what to put in my one-Pelican-case tool kit (see the Winter, 2010 issue), I decided to address major repairs first, and work my way down to minor operations from there—my reasoning being that if you don’t have the right tool for something minor, you can probably improvise, but lacking the right tool for something big will probably bring the proceedings to a quick halt. Since major repairs on a vehicle are almost certainly going to involve removing and installing bolts or nuts, wrenches and socket sets were at the top of the list. Considering one of my guiding principles for an overlanding tool kit—If you need the kit something has already gone wrong—don’t risk compounding the problem with cheap tools—my next move might have been simply to pull over a Snap-on or Matco or Mac tools van and hand the sales rep a list and a debit card. However, Wells Fargo Bank would have had something to say about an overdraft of that magnitude. I needed to balance reliable quality with my available funds. Do a Google search for ‘Snap-on versus Craftsman’ and you’ll get an idea of the endless and inconclusive forum threads devoted to the question of whether or not the ‘boutique’ tool lines are worth their frightening prices. Everyone agrees that bargain-basement tools are a waste of money, and most professional mechanics agree that the premium tools are better than the many solid mid-tier brands such as Craftsman, Kobalt, Husky, etc. But are they two or three times as good, as their prices would indicate? Part of that price is undoubtedly pure cachet—a set of Snap-on wrenches in your tool box is going to draw a lot more oohs from your friends than a set of Ace Hardware wrenches, and Snap-on is well aware of that. Part of it is the innovation these companies drive— for example, Snap-on invented interchangeable sockets (which would ‘snap on’ to a single handle) in the 1920s, and in 1965 introduced sockets and wrenches incorporating the brilliant Flank Drive system, which drives a nut or bolt off the stronger shoulder of each facet, rather than the point.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Grey Pneumatic Duo 1/2-inch-drive sockets on the left; Britool 3/8ths-inch-drive set #748267 on the right. Previous page: Britool: Lots of fittings in a compact case.

If you don’t have the right tool for something minor, you can probably improvise, but lacking the right tool for something big will probably bring the proceedings to a quick halt.

But innovation inevitably spreads across the industry. Interchangeable sockets are now standard, obviously, and many companies produce ‘Stress Relief ’ or ‘Surface Drive’ or other euphemistic copies of Flank Drive. Nickel-chrome finishes, locking flex-head ratchets, 72-tooth ratchet heads, wobble drives—all were brought out by innovative tool makers and then copied by others. Given my own experience with a home tool set that includes about half Craftsman products plus a motley assortment of Snap-on and Mac stuff—mostly given to me or bought used—I agree with the pros that the primo stuff is noticeably better, but I’ve had uniformly good luck with the Sears products too. I decided if I kept to that level of quality or above, I need have little fear of a tool self-destructing in the middle of nowhere. Another aspect I needed to consider was the limited space I’d allowed myself with the Pelican 1600. Yet I didn’t just want to cram as many tools as possible in there; access and organization were paramount. So when I started looking at ratchet handles and sockets, I sought a high-quality set that included as many options as possible, but stored in a compact case. Which led me to Britool. Britool is a venerable British tool maker—the mechanics striving to keep shot-up Spitfires airworthy in the summer of 1940 would have been using Britool equipment—and a few months ago I had the opportunity for some hands-on experience with one of the company’s socket sets. I was impressed with the quality—the ratchet handle was a fine, 72-tooth piece stamped ‘chrome vanadium’—not a guarantee of quality but a helpful indication—and the sockets themselves were nicely-finished and cold-forged, with clear, even roll-stamping of each size. The fit over nuts and bolts was slop-free. Britool has taken a bit— actually a whole bunch—of heat recently for moving some of its production to Taiwan (‘Taitool’ just doesn’t have the same ring); however, the best Taiwanese makers are proving themselves adept at high-quality forging, and, patriotic issues aside, the move doesn’t seem to have hurt. Ordering tools from the U.K. is easy and surprisingly fast. Perusing the primetools.co.uk site, I found just what I wanted—and four days later was opening the Royal Mail box. Overland Journal Gear 2011

The Britool #748267 3/8ths-inch-drive set packs an astonishing number of fittings into a blow-molded case measuring just 14 by 10.5 by 4 inches. Along with the user-serviceable ratchet handle are three extensions—one with a wobble-drive anvil and all with knurled finger grips and hexagonal female ends that can be turned with a 16mm wrench if needed—plus a sliding T-handle, a flex coupling, and a 1/4-inch bit holder. Sockets include standard-depth metric from 6mm all the way to 24mm, standard-depth SAE from 1/4 to 1-inch, deep metric from 8 to 19mm, deep SAE from 5/16 to 3/4-inch, plus female Torx from E8 to E16. The sockets incorporate Britool’s copy of Flank Drive, ‘Stress Relief,’ which reduces the chance of rounding nuts or bolts. The set also includes 24 1/4-inch bits, from slotted screwdriver heads to hex drivers to security Torx fittings. This gives me not only supreme versatility, but valuable redundancy—a 16mm socket substitutes for a 5/8ths if necessary, for example, and the sliding T-handle will turn sockets if the ratchet fails. So far I’ve been completely satisfied with the performance of the Britool set. I also wanted a 1/2-inch-drive socket set for bigger and more heavily torqued nuts and bolts. I plan to carry an 18-inch breaker bar and a torque wrench in the Pelican case, and now and then I bring along a cordless impact driver, so I needed sockets that could stand up to serious twisting (I have used standard chrome-plated sockets with impact drivers, but it makes me nervous). I thought of simply including the purposebuilt impact sockets I already own and using them with a hand ratchet as well, but their thick walls preclude use in many tight spots, and I certainly didn’t have room for two sets. Some research on the subject revealed an ideal solution: the Grey Pneumatic Duo sockets, which are rated for impact-driver use despite having walls no thicker than standard sockets. A phone conversation with Steve Gray (different spelling) revealed how the Duo sockets work, although Gray was as reluctant as other tool makers to reveal exact formulas. Essentially, the Duo sockets eschew chrome plating in favor of an industrial finish, and are forged from an alloy rich in molybdenum and subjected to a proprietary hardening process. The set Steve sent me includes a comfortable ratchet handle with a coarse, 24-tooth mechanism well-matched to its intended use, and two extensions that can function either as wobble or locked drives. The Duo sockets themselves range from a dainty 10mm all the way to a crankshaftpulley-nut-ready 36mm. As you might expect, the comprehensive Grey Duo set takes up a fair amount of space. Since I’ve rarely had a need for 1/2-inch-drive sockets in any size under 14mm, along with the ratchet and extensions I plan to carry the 15mm through 25mm Grey sockets, and evaluate the applications for specific larger sockets. The lot will snap into the clever flexible socket rails carried by Off Road Trail Tools, so the entire Grey kit can be carried in one of ORTT’s tool rolls. More on that, plus wrenches and further considerations, next time.

RESOURCES Britool: www.britool.com; available from primetools.co.uk Grey Pneumatic: gpsocket.com, 800-826-7990 Off Road Trail Tools: offroadtrailtools.com, 520-579-2080

Overland Journal Gear 2011

OVERLAND NEWS Showcasing expedition travelers and resources from around the globe

70 Anniversary Expedition th

Long Range Desert Group

ver Easter break, 2011, a small, intrepid group of explorers will follow routes across the Sahara Desert originally used by the legendary Long Range Desert Group during World War Two. Major Ralph Bagnold used his extensive desert exploration knowledge to assemble this small but elite force of men to wreak havoc on the enemy in North Africa, by attacking from the direction they least expected—across the desert.

Photo by Mahmoud Marai

In the 1920s and 1930s, Bagnold and his fellow expatriate Brits used Model T Fords to venture where cars had never been before, and both mapped and surveyed large areas of the eastern Sahara. When WWII started Bagnold gathered the same group of friends and equipped them with specially outfitted 30-cwt (1 1/2-ton) Chevrolet and Ford trucks, joined later by Jeeps when their light weight and agility made them a firm favorite for forays behind enemy lines. In recognition of the 70th anniversary of the forming of the LRDG, U.K. based Overland Journal contributors Toby Savage and Sam Watson, together with fellow journalist and Jeep enthusiast John Carroll, will ship two genuine 1943 Jeeps—a Ford GP and a Willys MB—to Egypt to undertake a unique adventure retracing the routes covered by their heroes in almost exactly the same conditions. Both Jeeps have been fully rebuilt, but retain exactly the same specification as original, including the old Willys ‘Go Devil’ engine and leaf springs. The group is realistic, however, and has the backup of an excellent Egyptian logistics team with a pair of Land Cruisers. The trip will depart from Cairo on April 18th and return on May 2nd, and will cover approximately 1,200 desert miles. Sound exciting? Want to go along? There are five guest places available on the trip; anyone interested can contact Toby, Sam, or John, via the website. tobysavage.co.uk/LRDG

Top to bottom: The original LRDG were a hardy bunch comprising English, New Zealand, and South African troops. LRDG Ford 30-cwt truck. The guide for this expedition will be Cairo-based Academic, Mahmoud Marai, who has discovered many LRDG wrecks in the desert, abandoned in the course of battle 70 years ago. Cheating a bit: A photomontage of how the two 1943 Jeeps will look at the foot of The Gilf Kebir, a plateau the size of Switzerland that is at the southern most point of Egypt. Overland Journal Gear 2011

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Best of Breed 26

SEMA Showcase

News from the Trade

Favorite Kit

Overland Journal Gear 2011

NEWS FROM THE TRADE Exploring the newest gear for overlanding By Scott Brady

Showcase

Overlanding Represented at SEMA The Specialty Equipment Manufactures Association (SEMA) show is the most significant automotive accessory show in the world, drawing 100,000 industry-only attendees from nearly every country of the globe. As a result, it becomes a collecting point for not only new ideas, but for adventurous souls. This year was no exception, and overlanding was represented throughout the Truck and SUV, Tire and Wheel and Feature Vehicle areas. Roof tents permeated the skyline along with roof racks, fuel cans and snorkels. Toyota featured Four Wheeler magazine’s tasteful and competent backcountry 4Runner project and Jeep featured a trail-rated trailer and our project J8 with Habitat.

The Truck and SUV section included many new faces and an expansion of products that serve the adventure traveler. New displaying manufacturers like Kaymar and MaxTrax from Australia, African Outback, and Expedition One means that more options are coming to the North American consumer, and that is nearly always a good thing.

The long-term Expedition Portal project J8 was on display with Mopar. The prototype Habitat top drew admiration from 17-year-old attendees to OEM executives.

MaxTrax vehicle extraction and recovery system $290 and $599 Has PSP finally met its match? The MaxTrax from Australia are made of injectionmolded, reinforced nylon and feature a tapered end for ramping or shoveling, hand holds, lanyard holes, ground stake points and the ability to link the trax end-to-end to build your own road. A set of two MaxTrax weighs 17 pounds and can be stored easily until carried up a sand dune or snowy hill. Over the past year MaxTrax have improved the original design and created a full kit called the MaxTrax 4x4 Recovery System, which includes four MaxTrax, a nine-liter jerry for water, leashes, linking straps and ground pegs enclosed in a lockable box that can be carried inside the vehicle, mounted on the spare tire or up on the roof. Currently available in orange or black, there is word that additional colors: khaki, desert sand, olive drab and pilbara red may be available in summer. maxtrax.com.au, +61-7-3260-5851

Overland Journal Gear 2011

AEV accessory mount and mud flaps Accessory mount

price not available at printing, mud flaps $99 American Expedition Vehicles announced several new accessories for their robust JK rear bumper system, including an innovative Hi-Lift jack and PullPal mount. The steel bracket mounts to the swing-out tire hinge and holds both tools upright and alongside the spare tire. The bracket mounts the tools against shaped steel cutouts that minimize rattles and distribute clamping forces on a larger surface. The Hi-Lift requires no modification and rests against a foot bracket and is clamped in place with a large orange knob. The PullPal requires drilling mounting holes and storing the blade separately. Another welcomed accessory are the new molded mud flaps. They have a factory molded plastic appearance and mount easily to the bumper corner guards. The innovation comes in the ease of removal with just a few bolts. aev-conversions.com, 406-251-2100

Kaymar 4WD accessories comes to the United States Kaymar makes laser-cut, robot-welded, fully-galvanized, powdercoated works of overland art designed to protect vehicles while following the original styling of the vehicle. Based in Australia they have been doing this for over 35 years and their products are available in 15 countries. But, if you are in the United States, Kaymar products have been an iconic unobtanium, they’re seen from time to time but nobody knows where they came from or how to get more. The search is over with Man-A-Fre of Simi Valley, California becoming the U.S. distributor for Kaymar. man-a-fre.com in the U.S. and kaymar.com.au worldwide

African Outback Products

African Outback Products designs and manufactures a comprehensive line of overland equipment and accessories. Ranging from the impressive Technitop roof tent to adjustable braai (BBQ) grills. For SEMA, they outfitted Overland Journal field editor Andrew Moore’s 100-Series Land Cruiser with a suite of new products including the innovative and self-supported Ostrich Wing awning. Adolph, the owner, is also a true gentleman and generously supports several philanthropic expeditions, including Kingsley Holgate and the One Net, One Life project. africanoutback.co.za, +27-11-392-1777

Overland Journal Gear 2011

NEWS FROM THE TRADE Exploring the newest gear for overlanding

Showcase

Lowrance HDS-5 Baja Chartplotter $600 Lowrance has released a replacement for their long-respected Baja 540C GPS: a specially-ruggedized edition with robust mounting and fully potted electronics. It includes a new generation 16-channel GPS+WAAS chipset and compatibility with the new LGC-4000 external antenna. With a bright (daylight readable) 5-inch SolarMAX display the included U.S. basemap and available high-detail FreedomMaps topo maps look sharp and easy to view. We applaud Lowrance for using non-proprietary data files and standard SD card memory. lowrance.com, 800-324-1356

New ARB Fridge sizes and slides

With the ARB 50QT Fridge Freezer gaining popularity within the community and winning our fridge test Value Award, we are pleased to see the addition of three new ARB fridge sizes and the addition of several high-quality fridge slides. New sizes include the 37, 63, and 82-quart sizes. The 50 and 82 share the same height, the 37 and 63 share the same ‘squat’ height. The 37 and 50 share the same footprint and the 63 and 82 share the same extended footprint. The 82 will hold an impressive 120 12-ounce cans. All models have a front-opening lid, creating improved access to the fridge contents and making them a perfect partner for fridge slides. In addition to the expanded fridge line, ARB announced a new fridge slide to complement the larger footprint of the 63- and 82-quart fridges. Rated to carry 265 pounds, this slide can also carry other tools of the trade such as a compressor or toolbox. Thoughtful features include full extension and the ability to drain fluids from the fridge while extended away from the vehicle. arbusa.com, 866-293-9083

Equip Shovel $130

Extreme Outback Products has a knack for finding seriousduty gear, and their new ultimate shovel is no exception. Price aside, this shovel is a robust and adaptable tool, sporting long and d-handled options in a single Cordura bag. The blade of the shovel is also unique, clearly designed for use in vehicle recovery. The blade is relatively straight, allowing the shovel to fit under a bogged vehicle, an attribute Overland Journal’s publisher came to appreciate while digging out his stuck Land Cruiser on the beach in Baja. extremeoutback.com, 866-447-7711

Overland Journal Gear 2011

NEWS FROM THE TRADE Exploring the newest gear for overlanding By Jonathan Hanson and Jeremy Edgar

Kanz Field Kitchen $595 (without stove)

Homeowners spend more money remodeling kitchens than all other rooms combined, and for good reason. Now your camp can get the same attention. The Kanz Field Kitchen with a Partner Steel stove is the Smallbone cabinet/Wolf range combo of the outdoor world. Constructed of marine-grade Baltic birch plywood and brushed aluminum, it opens to provide a work surface, side tables, windbreak, and well-organized storage. Use it on a table or the tailgate, or insert the sturdy legs into concealed sockets to create a completely free-standing system. You can order it bare or with the Partner stove, and even add a complete set of kitchen equipment. Look for a full comparison test of field kitchens soon. (JH) kanzoutdoors.com, 818-894-6589

mKettle 30

$82

I love my old volcano kettle, which creates a vortex effect to boil water quickly in its hollow cylinder using just twigs for fuel. Now imagine that mated with a JetBoil and you have the mKettle, a compact and lightweight volcano kettle that substitutes a neoprene collar for a handle. At only 13 ounces and seven inches tall, it’s compact enough for motorcycle travel. Provision with freeze-dried meals that can be reconstituted in the pouch with boiling water, and this could be the only cooking implement you need—no gas, no canisters, no pots. Made entirely in the U.K. (JH) mkettle.com, 503-468-4160

Snow Peak Baja Burner LI Stove $160

mKettle, left; standard volcano kettle, right Overland Journal Gear 2011

I’ve searched for years for a single-burner stove more stout and stable than a backpacking model, yet more compact than a big two-burner. A cheapo Stansport sufficed for a while, but was flimsy and tippy. The stainless-steel Baja Burner LI fixes all that. It’s sturdy enough to stand on (yep, I tried it) and will hold the biggest pot in your kit securely, but packs in the space of a thick laptop. The liquid-injection canister system ensures efficient fuel usage even in freezing temperatures. If you want to expand, the stove drops into Snow Peak’s Iron Grill Table system. One complaint: the grate won’t hold a small espresso maker. Note to SP: Please lengthen those grate fingers. (JH) snowpeak.com, 503-697-3330

Purple K fire extinguisher

$80

Be honest: Do you even have one? And if you do, is it some dinky 2.5-pound model with seven seconds worth of squirt? Get yourself a proper fire extinguisher, at least a five-pound unit like this one, filled with potassium bicarbonate (sold as Purple K Powder), considered to be the most effective all-around agent for vehicle fires. Five pounds of it gives you 15 seconds of discharge time from a safe 20-foot distance. Tip: Carry a printed form reading in large letters, “I OWE YOU $80.” If you stop to help someone whose minivan is on fire, make him sign it before you empty your own extinguisher. (JH) Available from smokesign.com, 888-922-9531

JustGasTanks Spare Fuel Bladder $130

Carrying spare fuel on a motorcycle has always been a challenge. I’ve seen solutions ranging from safe but small (MSR-type canisters) to downright scary (a red plastic can bungeed on so it whacked the hot exhaust on every bump). The fuel bladders from JustGasTanks are the best yet. Empty, they take up scant precious cargo space and even less mass. Full, the model here gives you an additional two gallons worth of range. Made from radio-frequency-welded double-layer polyurethane and incorporating six nylon-web tiedown points, the bladder is absolutely leak-proof—I filled the sample with water and stood on it (seems to be my torture test of choice lately) to no effect. (JH) justgastanks.com, 866-999-6269

iPad RAM Mount

$21 (cradle only)

RAM Mounts recently introduced a line of cradles and holders for the Apple iPad. Maintaining the quality of RAM’s other high-strength composite cradles for GPS units, this one incorporates the company’s patented EZ-Roll’r, which eases insertion and removal of the iPad. There are dozens of attachment options, including a suction-cup mount, cup-holder mount, and seat mount. If you already have an existing ball and socket system with another RAM Mount, this one can easily be adapted to it. It features both portrait and landscape mounting options, as well as a precise cutout for the illuminated Apple logo on the back of the iPad. (JE) ram-mount.com, (206) 763-8361

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Edited by Jonathan Hanson

Favorite Kit Five of the most experienced travelers we know muse on their all-time favorite equipment—anything goes. We all have favorites among our equipment—items of gear that have been with us for years, provided yeoman service, or that simply bring back memories of good trips and beautiful places. Such gear doesn’t necessarily have to be the best; in fact it doesn’t even have to be very good—it just has to be thought of fondly, and it must be something one wouldn’t sell even if offered many times its actual cash value. I think of my old Marmot Taku tent, which provided cozy, stormproof shelter on dozens of journeys, or the Puma Trapper’s Companion knife that was my unattainable, unaffordable ($32) dream knife when I was a kid, an example of which I finally found and purchased years later, and use resolutely and delightedly despite its insane collector value among Puma aficionados. But favorite kit doesn’t have to be vintage. As much as I cherish my old brass SVEA 123 backpacking stove, the jewel-like Snow Peak Giga-Power stove I carry now amazes me with its perfect minimalist function every time I light it. Extending the concept to its logical (or illogical) limit, favorite kit doesn’t even need to be . . . kit. There was this sycamore tree along Sabino Creek that had a limb with a perfect lounging crook in it, hanging right over the water. Every time I hiked to that spot, that crook was as essential a part of the experience as my Camp Trails frame pack. It occurred to me that travelers far more experienced than I must have their own favorite kit. So I sent out a proposal to several regular Overland Journal contributors, just to make sure the idea wasn’t a mere sentimental aberration on my part. Not at all, it turned out—I received enthusiastic responses; in fact, my only task was to convince those participating that six items per contributor was the absolute maximum we could fit. Otherwise I did very little interfering. I discreetly crossed out one of Gary Wescott’s initial seven choices—his veteran pee bottle—as indubitably useful, even, perhaps, cherished on those long 40-below Siberian nights, but somehow lacking the romance of a Puma knife or a Silva compass or an old paper map. Then there was the photo . . . Fortunately his remaining six were perfect. I also had to keep an eye on Tom Sheppard, lest his entire list comprise jaw-dropping natural features of the Sahara Desert he employs variously for chaise longues, shade awnings, or simple inspiration. And finally, I had to make sure Lois Pryce’s husband Austin Vince (a multiple motorcycle circumnavigator and only absent here to avoid too much input from one family) didn’t bribe her into claiming his own favorite piece of gear—a moldy surplus shelter half—as hers. Otherwise the rules were, no rules, and I think you’ll enjoy the results. Here they are, in alphabetical order.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Chris Collard Leatherman Multi Tool: My Leatherman is one

of those pieces of essential gear that is always in my bag or on my belt. A knife, pliers, scissors, screw driver, wire cutters—it’s all there. I’ve used it as a fishing knife, a dining utensil, and for personal hygiene. (Editor’s note: not at the same time, we hope?) During a six-vehicle overland trek through the Peruvian Andes, the Jeep I was driving suffered from a bad case of vapor lock. I was separated from the group—and from the vehicle with the tools. Using only the Leatherman we were able to remove the hood, reroute the fuel lines, and resolve the issue. Though they make a dozen fancier models, this model, the FUSE, has fit my needs.

Tracks 4 Africa (T4A): This one is a must have

for overlanding in Africa. I found it as an overlay option on Google Earth while researching routes for a two-month, eight-country trek through Southern Africa. It is Garmincompatible, downloadable, and contains a comprehensive array of user-generated tracks covering most of the continent. It literally saved my, uh, tail in 2008 when I was caught in massive brush fires that swept through the Kalahari. The fire line was 30 kilometers away from our camp near Deception Pan one night. Erring on the side of caution, we set the alarm for 0200—but when we awoke the fire was already on the nearest ridge and moving fast. Without T4A, our only option would have been to hunker down in the middle of the saltpan and hope for the best. As it was, T4A precisely identified the track and we decided to try to outrun the fire. I’m here to say it worked. The price? Who cares—it works (about $100).

Victorinox Swiss Army watch: This was a gift from my dad before my first trip to South America. (As I write this I’m actually on a flight to Buenos Aires, my trusted watch on my wrist.) As you can see, it is beat, scuffed, and the crystal resembles a map of Los Angeles freeways. There are few bells or whistles, but it is waterproof (I’ve taken it to down 80 feet scuba diving), keeps precision time, and is tough as nails.

ARB Fridge/Freezer: I bought an ARB fridge/freez-

er after decades of finding egg Slurpees in my ice chest. I’ve used them on treks in South America, Australia, Africa, and Europe, as well as hundreds of overlanding trips around the western United States. Buying ice is a thing of the past, and I always have a coldy at the end of the day. This unit, though the image is not so glamorous, is permanently mounted behind the seat of my Tacoma. I’ve been so impressed that I picked up one of ARB’s new models for my other vehicle. Although weighing in at about $750, it’s a worthwhile investment, and has been the single biggest improvement to my backcountry experiences.

Expedition One Fuel Cell: I became aware of

these handy fuel containers at the 2009 Overland Expo, and eventually borrowed several from Expedition One for a 3,000-mile, all-dirt trek from Mexico to Canada. Originally designed for use on ATV racks, I fully adapted them for my overlanding needs. I like the fact that they are compact, stackable, and can bear up to 400 pounds. I’ve taken them from 100ºF at sea level to 20ºF at 10,000 feet, then back again—and they didn’t leak. Integrated pour handles in the mold are perfect for tying down with a ratchet strap. I now have a pair fitted in the bed of my Tacoma. Price: $70. Yes, ouch . . . but not having the smell of fuel wafting in and around my truck? Worth every penny.

Primus LED Headlamp: After years of using

a mini-Mag on a headband, then a number of economy headlamps, I finally upgraded to a high-end torch of a unit, the Primus PrimeLite RACE. I now wonder why it took me so long. In addition to the red and emergency flash modes, the RACE has three power settings, is waterproof, and weighs less than seven ounces not counting batteries. The Luxeon Rebel diode emits over 100 lumens and creates a useful beam at 100 yards. Although it does have a tethered battery pack (takes four AA batteries), which adds a measure of thought and is not so great when spelunking in tight spots, it is the brightest headlamp I’ve owned, and a welcome addition to my gear bag.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Lois Pryce Opinel pocket knife: “Avez vous un Opinel?” is French for “Do you have a knife?” Like Hoover or BandAid, it’s one of those products that has slipped into the vernacular, and like champagne, industrial strikes, and bad pop music, the Opinel has become a French institution. It’s the height of simple, elegant design—a wooden-handled, folding pocket knife made up of just four components including its ingenious locking device. The Opinel knife has been made in the town of Saint-Jean-de-Maurienne in the Savoie region of France since the 1890s, and has achieved iconic status: The Victoria and Albert Museum in London included it in its ‘100 Most Beautiful Products in the World.’ But unlike so many other design classics, the Opinel is affordable to all; you can pick up a basic model for less than ten bucks. I carry mine with me everywhere—and recently employed it to stir my frapuccino in Starbucks. Adventure, phew! Petzl headlamp: There was a time when head lamps were so big and cumbersome that you wouldn’t have looked out of place sporting a canary on your shoulder while wearing one. Those days are gone. Since 1972, when French climbing-equipment maker Petzl first came up with the notion of attaching both the lamp and its battery pack to your head, their designs have become progressively smaller and neater. But there was always that awkward headband flapping around the place and getting caught on things. So imagine my joy when I first laid eyes on the Petzl head lamp with a retractable strap. Ping! It twangs back into the body of the lamp, creating a compact, powerful light that fits into the palm of your hand, with no annoying dangly bits. Ideal for the traveller who has a pathological obsession to make every piece of kit as small as possible. Yes, that’s me. A local newspaper: A copy of the Anchorage Daily

News saved my life. Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but while battling my way through Alaskan snow drifts I was given one of the most useful riding tips I have ever received: A local motorcyclist in Anchorage advised me to put a folded newspaper down the front of my jacket to keep out the icy winds. By that point I was frozen, desperate, and willing to try anything. It transformed my winter riding experience, and I wore that newspaper for hundreds of freezing miles. No doubt there are numerous base layers, fleeces, and heated vests that will out-perform a humble newspaper, but if you do ever find yourself on a motorcycle in sub-zero temperatures wearing archaic clothing, just head for the local newsstand and all will be well, plus you’ll have something to read during those long dark nights. And all for less than a dollar!

Motion Pro T-6 Combo Lever: Hurrah for Mo-

tion-Pro, purveyors of things that motorcyclists can actually use. No more need to weld a socket on the end of your tyre lever. No more carting around heavy tools in your panniers. My lightweight, aluminium Motion Pro tyre iron features a wrench at one end to fit the rear axle nut. For the minimalist motorcycle traveller or dirt biker looking to keep weight to a minimum, there’s something deeply satisfying about a dual-purpose tool like this. I can’t promise the Combo Lever will actually make fixing flats fun, but there’s no denying that using a quality, well-designed tool certainly makes a dirty job more bearable. I also like Motion Pro’s Trail Tool— the ultimate ingenious bit of kit. With this and the Combo Lever you are good to go.

Sheepskin seat cover: After returning from a three-week ride to Morocco with a butt that cannot be described in a family publication, I decided to take a tip from the Australians and sling a sheepskin over my saddle for my next long-distance trip. Now I won’t ride to the corner market without one. Forget Airhawks and gel seats; this is a cheap, simple way to give yourself a couple of extra hours in the saddle each day and avoid the dreaded (not to mention terribly un-ladylike) affliction of monkey-butt. I used a sheepskin on my trans-African adventure and it served me well over 10,000 miles through every kind of terrain, weather, and temperature. And not only does it make for a more comfortable ride, you can roll it up at night and use it as a pillow—ah, once again, that holy grail of the dual-purpose piece of kit. Andy Strapz Pannierz: So, you’ve got all this

clobber but how do you carry it? The motorcycle luggage debate has been raging for decades and doesn’t look to cool off any time soon, with ever more panniers and ‘luggage systems’ entering the market. Well, stop right there. No need to read any more of those comparison tests. The only panniers you will ever need are the Andy Strapz Expedition Pannierz—made from super-tough canvas, simple, spacious, and according to Andy himself, ‘Born from a life on the road.’ Necessity is the mother of invention, and often the best kit is just this—a product invented by someone because what he needed didn’t exist. My Andy Strapz panniers have seen tens of thousand of miles of action and are still going strong. As it says on the Andy Strapz website, ‘Quite simply the toughest little buggers on the market.’

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Chris Scott Thuraya satellite telephone: As with GPS, sat-

ellite communications have transformed travel in remote regions. There was a time in southern Algeria when I could have used a sat phone to help an injured guy with a squashed Land Rover. Now my Thuraya is always at hand in the desert, and helped me recover myself following a bike crash. Forget your EPIRB; that’ll just cause a commotion. Talking to the right person works wonders whether mobilising a rescue or just reassuring someone. The Thuraya system doesn’t cover the world like Iridium, but it reaches almost everywhere except the Americas. Older Thuraya handsets from Hughes or Ascom were years behind a state-of-the-art Nokia, but they could send SMS and email, unlike the latest, slimmer, down-featured units. Issued to U.S. forces during the Iraq war, they’re available on eBay for a couple hundred dollars. Battery life is terrible; get a spare plus a car or solar charger.

Paper maps: I admire everything GPS has enabled, and

I enjoy using Google Earth to cook up new routes. But for what they cost and the ease of use, in the field you still can’t beat a paper map. Until Internet becomes an atmospheric phenomenon and you can project a 48-inch hologram at the press of a remote, I can’t imagine doing a trip into new territory without a paper map. My favourites are the old one million series (15.77 miles to an inch) French IGNs, which still have all the information you need to drive the central Sahara. Recently, Polyart plastic paper editions have given many maps a new lease on life. Water- and tear-proof, after an evening class in origami you could probably fold one into a bowl, have a wet shave, then carry on navigating. Find yourself a WWII pilots’ ‘escape and evasion’ map printed on silk or rayon and you’ve got something to dry off with.

Cheche: A cheche is one word for a turban worn by desert nomads. You have to be pretty drunk to wear a sombrero in Mexico, but dressing up as a local doesn’t have to mark you down as a pillock. In the desert a hat will blow off or burn your neck. A cheche can be wound on as a head-encompassing turban, with just a slit for the eyes—perfect for traipsing across the baking desert in a ghibli. It also doubles as a towel, bag, pillow, water filter, mozzie net, or sunshade. A proper cheche is thin, see-through cotton that’ll fade and wear out, not the brightly colored synthetic examples tourists love but which are sweaty. A genuine taguelmoust is the real thing, caked in indigo dye which rubs off on your face and explains the ‘Blue Men’ label for Tuareg nomads. In fact ‘Tuareg’ is a pejorative Arabic term; they refer to themselves as Kel Taguelmoust or ‘People of the Veil.’

Toyota 12H-T turbodiesel engine: I bought an HJ61 in Milan in a rush after my HJ60 coughed up its rods. The 61 was the same unsophisticated design, with a body as stiff as a walnut and scary brakes. The best thing by far was the 12H-T engine—essentially the four-liter 2H six with a low-boost turbo added. I still recall its distinctive throttle characteristics; dab the accelerator and the engine barked back with a faint swivel from the chassis as the torque peaked at 1,800 rpm. Back home the 61 is an over-sprung tank, but loaded down and chasing half a dozen bikes across the sand sheet, or pushing out a 2,000-kilometre piste, it always delivers. On dunes with the tyres at 15 pounds, the 61 claws its way forward like a digger. The 12H-T was the pinnacle of Japanese mechanical turbodiesels. Carryall bag: I’m always chasing the ultimate do-

it-all bag. For 15 years I’ve used an Australian-made 24inch Trailblazer heavy-duty canvas bag. On the back of a bike, the side of a camel, or slung in the back of a truck, there’s always a job for my dust-caked, oil-stained Trailblazer, which just looks better with age. Other good bags in my inventory include Ortlieb cycle panniers with a strong but dead-simple clip on/pull off system (all the deduction your brain can muster at the end of a tough day). My old Aerostich Courier bag looks like it will never wear out, and I’ve just tested my latest load carrier: Watershed’s UDB, a 90-litre duffle/backpack with a proper drysuit zip. Forget your roll-top dry bags, with a few UDBs and some planks you could make a raft.

Coleman petrol stove: Although I’ve lately turned to butane micro stoves for packrafting trips, if I’m using a motorbike or car, I always carry a Coleman single-burner petrol stove. My first 533 lasted a decade of solo desert biking. I’m now on the dinkier Feather model, which looks like a lunar module and burns just as hard. I’ve read about generator tubes clogging on automotive gasoline, but it never happened to me on whatever comes out of the bowsers in the Sahara. Give me an old-school Coleman that drinks fuel like a Saturn V, rather than those lean-burning RBJs (‘red bottle jobs’). A stove has to run on local gasoline, and I’ve never traveled with an RBJ that didn’t pack up. The Coleman’s a dinosaur, and it may splutter initially on low octane with extra lead, but once the burner is glowing cherry red there’s no stopping it.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Tom Sheppard Rolex GMT Master: The photo here, taken to bait the Royal Photographic Society, who whinged about my habit of including the sun in frame (“It’s part of the desert scenery, sport,” I said, “like the blue sky and the sand and you don’t complain about those.”), also displays the incomparable, bullet-proof Rolex GMT-Master II—the one with the jumping hour hand for changing time-zones—probably the ultimate overlander’s watch. GMT? Yes, if you’ll forgive a chauvinist burst of Rule Britannia for a moment. ‘UTCMaster’? No, I don’t think so. Actually the 24-hour GMT hand can display any other time zone you want, but for me it is invaluable for pre-obtained sun- and moon-rise times, knowing what time it is in the U.K., when the BBC World Service news is on—all the important things in life. Wondrously engineered, a delight just to look at, dare we expect a future day-date version, ever? Too radical.

Barong articulated sand mats: No apology for mentioning these again. They’ve appeared in every book I’ve written and I’m amazed no manufacturer has copied the design. First, they make no claim to be bridging devices. They are only, and superbly, sand mats. The sections are linked by robust polypropylene ropes, and their articulated design enables you to shove the business end into the optimum position behind the bogged wheel without the danger of the back end kicking up into some vulnerable part of the vehicle. They’re light enough for you to run with a pair. They can be folded up to stow; there’s no need for those ungainly external racks required for the PSP-type items so widely used. As these ones have sharp edges I made some stiff canvas bags to put them in so they could be stowed anywhere in the vehicle. Bought in France in 1988—come back Barong, we need you.

L-shaped reading bower: For a suitable six-

Anti-moth mesh: You hate to disappoint them.

figure sum I would consider divulging the location of this desirable item. Portability might be a problem, but for such rare function you can’t have everything. Desert travellers may well be familiar with that mid-day need for a rest, time to relax maybe with a book while, for instance, a kettle boils on the stove for a cup of very British tea. Fashioned from the finest Algerian sandstone, with a tasteful overhang on the north-east face to provide cool shade from an early afternoon sun that would melt glass, I can reveal that this item is well under 100 miles from Arak. Seen here being tested by Desert Winds Publishing’s versatile Sahara agent, I can report that it passed with flying colours and is open to bids from the most discerning parties. Carbonfibre copies are expected to appear soon at Pebble Beach and Hurlingham.

Lowrance 3500c Marine GPS: It may look

like a GPS but in fact it’s a combination of Fort Knox and the Rock of Gibraltar wrapped in flak-jackets. Graduating from sun-compasses, sextants, theodolite star-shots, dead-reckoning, and graph-paper plot-outs, I’ve seen sat nav from Day One—including the U.S. Navy Transit fivesatellite constellation that gave you an hourly fix and took 15 minutes to do it. So you might say I appreciate what is now available. In fact, I am on my knees in praise of the geniuses whose conceptual audacity and sheer cleverness made GPS available. To all of us. Free. The Sahara is the nearest you’ll get on land to free-space navigation, and a marine unit is ideal; setting up waypoints, homing in on them, logging where you are and where you’ve been. The Lowrance 3500c is a gem. Intuitive to use, easy to read, totally reliable. But I still keep a written log.

They’ve been waiting months, perhaps years, if moths live that long, for someone to come along and brighten up the long nights for them. You arrive at a place you want to camp and later, with a cup of coffee, settle down to the evening’s work in the cab—downloading images, writing up the log, planning the next day’s nav. But a thousand moths awake to the fact there is light they can flutter around, and invade the cab. It’s way too warm to just wind up the windows. Trying to shoo them away is a waste of energy; swearing at them doesn’t work. But re-winding to pre-trip preparation and making some anti-moth nets works well. That stiff tent mesh material slotted over the top of the window, pinched at the door frame, enables you to have the evening breeze through the cab—moth-free.

The moon: Nothing welcomes me back to the Sahara like the moon. “Hello, moon!” I shout, to greet it again on my first night sleeping under the stars. (Just as well I travel solo.) I think the moon has a sense of fun, and regularly taunts me and my efforts to nail the azimuth and timing of its appearance taken from the Internet. Accuracy in the field is always dependent on predicting my lat and long at full moon in advance of the trip itself. And that’s important so I can line up the Great Arrival with an appropriately Wagnerian peak when I strive to get the ultimate moonrise photograph. Often—no, usually—there is also a wind to raise dust, mask the moonrise, and shake the tripod, but I definitely get the impression the moon doesn’t care. The curve of a dune edge is beautiful by day. By moonlight it’s poetry.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Gary and Monika Wescott Metal milk crate: If you find a piece of travel equipment that serves more than one function, that’s a bonus. Our old metal milk crate gets a five-star rating. As a step, wipe your feet and the sand, mud, or snow falls through the grate to the ground. Use it for an extra seat. Flip it over to carry vegetables from the local market. Fill it with clams or oysters and carry it out into the ocean to wash off the muck and sand. Set it in a tide pool to keep fish alive and flip it over later to clean and filet them. Stand on it to check your truck’s engine. Lay a board on top to make a cute little evening cocktail table. Real, solid-metal milk crates are becoming hard to find. At night we lock ours to the camper’s step with a cable. Sounds silly, but we’d never travel without one. ZipDee folding chair: A good camp chair is an overland traveler’s necessity—the illusion that after driving all day you’ll want to stand up fades after about two minutes. A good camp chair must be very compact and not need an engineering degree to set up. It should be comfortable to relax in, yet allow you to sit upright at a table to write your log, tap out your next blog, and eat dinner. It should have legs that don’t sink six inches into the sand on the beach, and if you plop yourself down in a wet bathing suit, it’s nice if it dries quickly. Our ZipDee folding chairs are stainless steel, with replaceable Sunbrella fabric. Their tough construction has lasted from Prudhoe Bay to the tip of Tierra del Fuego and across the frozen Steppes of Siberia. If you can only carry one chair, the ZipDee is a practical compromise that will last for decades. Homemade interior window covers: To

state the obvious, sun and its ultraviolet rays are your vehicle’s worst enemy, heat being second in line. Fold-out window shades have been around for years, mostly one or two sizes to fit all cars and SUVs. They work—sort of. But our homemade window covers take a good idea a step further. We sewed them from space blanket material, red on the inside, silver on the outside, to fit snugly on the front windshield, with separate ones for the side windows. They attach in seconds with small tabs of Velcro, and fold up and tuck behind the visor or behind the seat. They offer maximum sun and heat protection and, just as important, security. Not that you should leave valuables laying on the front seat, but “Out of sight, out of mind,” fits. When we have our covers up, the curious (sticky fingers or not) don’t even cross the street to look in the cab.

Miltary folding shovel: There are times when a full-

size shovel is handy, such as when digging a grave, moving the side of a mountain, or shovelling a foot of snow. We always carry one. On the other hand, if you’re just scooping out a one-stop toilet behind a bush, scraping out a fire pit (and filling it in), making a hole behind your tire to level the camper, or moving sand out of the way to insert a sand ladder, the old reliable U.S. Army folding shovel is faster and easier to use. It can be stored just about anywhere. It quickly transforms from shovel to hoe to pick. What’s not to like? There are copies out there. The German Army version with its threadless push-button release is good too. Both require cleaning and oiling to function reliably. You’ll find both types at army surplus stores. Try to get one with a cover, and go dig yourself a hole.

Weber Go-Anywhere barbecue: Cooking on

the road is always an adventure, and let’s face it, whether it’s chicken, fresh-caught fish, or a leg of lamb the nice people at the last yurt insisted you take, barbecuing is nearly always the best and easiest way to cook. We carry an old oven grate to use over an open fire, but when storage space is not at a premium, a good portable gas grill is a luxury. The Go-Anywhere is surprisingly compact, yet big enough to cook for four. It can be carried to a picnic table and used with a disposable fuel bottle, or hooked up with a quick-disconnect to your main LP tank. Clean-up is easy. It’s not the equal of its big brothers, but for a one night stop, there’s no firewood to gather, no messy charcoal briquettes, no fire pit to clean up—just great food.

Victorinox Swiss Army knife: If there is one

piece of equipment I use several times every day, it’s my Swiss Army knife. The selection of a basic Swiss Army knife is a very individual thing, but fortunately there are more variations than iPhone has apps (if I need pliers or a wrench, I go to my toolbox—I don’t want the weight on my belt). I’ve been using the same one, a Huntsman, for about 25 years. Just the basics: two blades, two screwdrivers, scissors, bottle and can opener, wire stripper, package hook, reamer, saw, and corkscrew with a mini screwdriver. The handle holds tweezers, a toothpick, and a very useful mini ballpoint pen. I’ve had the spring on the scissors and the toothpick replaced. If major repairs are needed, most Swiss Army knives can be taken apart and fixed by any qualified Victorinox center.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Overland Tested 47

Cargo Boxes

The Auspit

J8 Jeep

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Case Closed

Testing cargo boxes for overland travel

We compare 10 equipment cases to hold and protect your gear. By Jonathan Hanson

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Okay. You’ve embraced the aphorism, generally attributed to a wandering 9th-century Viking Buddhist whose name is tragically lost to history, that,

“To be one with everything . . . you must have one of everything.”

Now what? Now, of course, you need a way to carry everything with you when you want to get away from it all. Kidding aside, whether you sleep in a two-person Bibler tent and cook over a three-ounce Snow Peak backpacking stove, or luxuriate in an Overland Chair inside a Springbar while sauce Béarnaise simmers on a two-burner Partner Steel, it’s axiomatic that the more organized your gear, the quicker you can be relaxing in a fully pitched camp at the end of the day, the faster you can be on the road the next, and the safer you’ll be with various weighty and/or pointy implements and appliances stored in larger containers which themselves can be secured via tie-down straps. Your gear will be protected from dirt and moisture, it can be padded against vibration, and, perhaps most importantly, with everything sorted and secured you’ll eliminate the possibility of someone sneaking a photo of the anarchy in your cargo area and posting it on some forum thread devoted to homemade PVC intake manifolds and other vehicular faux pas.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Considerations Given the obvious apples-and-oranges incompatibility, I eliminated duffel bags and other soft storage containers from consideration here, and concentrated on hard-sided, weather-resistant cases. Even so, narrowing down the field to the ten here was difficult, as there were dozens of worthy candidates. I rejected some superb, but ridiculously expensive, custom-made ATA (Airline Transport Association) cases, and at the other end said no to the entire genre of five-dollar plastic storage containers such as the ubiquitous Sterilite, which while perfectly capable of organizing gear collapse instantly when subjected to a ratchet strap in any attempt to secure them properly inside a vehicle. (However, I must say I’ve seen these used with reasonable success when incorporated into a divided platform load system, where they can slide underneath the platform and be passively restrained by the structure.) I mused for some time on the best way to test the 10 cases I chose. I could have gone to some absurd length to test structural strength, such as tossing each one off a cliff with a 30-pound load inside. But what would that have proven, really, except which cases survive being tossed off a cliff with 30 pounds inside? I pondered making a raft of all ten product samples and attempting a Kon-Tiki-esque trans-Pacific crossing to see which ones leaked. Sadly, editorial deadlines loomed, and I’m not fond of sushi. Besides, when I weighed the value of such information against circumstances much more likely to be faced in the field, it ranked pretty low. It was also clear that, unlike many other categories of equipment, priorities range hugely among potential users of cargo boxes—and even within the same vehicle requirements vary widely. Cameras and laptops might want the ultimate protection of, say, a Pelican case, while the same product would be complete overkill for sleeping bags and clothes. So it was highly unlikely one product would or could emerge as the top choice for every situation. Accepting the inevitable ambiguity in choosing the best product, I injected as much objectivity as possible by devising a numerical system to evaluate definable parameters. These included measurements such as: Volumetric efficiency The ratio of interior volume to the maximum exterior dimensions of the case, as a percentage. Weight efficiency The ratio of total weight to interior volume, in pounds per cubic foot. Versatility Measured by the range of sizes available and ability to be stored in different positions. Weather protection Measured with a timed hose ‘rain’ test. Cost per unit of volume Also I considered more subjective qualities such as: Ease of handling and use. Quality and apparent durability of hardware. Ease and strength of securing to the vehicle. Noise factor, i.e. potential for contents to rattle and cases to rattle against others.

Each case received a rating from 1 (worst) to 10 in the measurable categories, resulting in an overall ranking which can also be evaluated individually depending on the user’s priorities. Thus, if light weight and volumetric efficiency are overriding concerns, one can place more emphasis on those numbers than on, say, weatherproofing. The 10 samples comprise a large range of sizes, and I didn’t figure that into the rankings, since most of these cases are available in several sizes to suit individual applications, and bigger is not necessarily better. However, note that certain characteristics such as volumetric efficiency and cost per unit volume generally improve with case size, which theoretically (not always) gives larger cases a slight advantage in the numerical ratings.

Materials Two materials are represented here: aluminum, in both thin-walled, crimped- or spot-welded-seam construction and heavier-walled, welded-seam configuration; and plastic of various compositions, again in both thin- and thick-walled styles. In general, the pros and cons of each material can be summarized thusly:

Plastic Pros

• Tough and dent-resistant • Quiet • Can be made waterproof easily • Can be inexpensive 49

Cons

• Susceptible to UV damage • Heavy per unit of volume if made rigid and water-resistant • Thin-walled products are prone to splitting and collapse • Can be difficult or impossible to repair or recycle

Aluminum Pros

• Extremely durable • Completely recyclable • Light weight for its strength

Cons

• High initial cost • Difficult to make completely waterproof • Thin-walled versions are easily dented • Rattle-prone if not packed and secured properly • Raw aluminum can blacken contents

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Rubbermaid Action Packer

Pros:

• Inexpensive • Lightweight

Cons:

• Worst volumetric efficiency • No rain protection • Limited size range

Overland Journal Gear 2011

$20 (small)

he Rubbermaid Action Packer is widely available at big-box stores around the country, and comes in three sizes, from eight gallons to 35. It’s blow-molded in the U.S. from polyethylene, and closes with two generously sized plastic snap latches, which double as comfortable carrying handles and can be secured with a small padlock to prevent casual pilferage. It’s a handsome case with its two-toned color scheme and red latches, and looks more expensive than it is. The Action Packer’s very thin material, and the radical reinforcement molding and double-walled lid subsequently necessary to provide adequate rigidity, place it in the odd position of having the worst volumetric efficiency in the test—at 53 percent barely over half its exterior volume is available as interior storage—while at the same time boasting the best weight efficiency, just 4.2 pounds per cubic foot. (It’s worth noting that in larger sizes—the test sample was a small—volumetric efficiency rises somewhat, although rigidity of the sidewalls decreases noticeably.) The sloping sides result in a lot of wasted space when several bins are packed next to each other—you can only slide so many tent poles and fishing rods between them. This is one of the lowest-cost storage cases that I consider rigid enough to withstand a ratchet strap (as long as it’s not cranked too tight). It was also, to my surprise, quite able to support my 150 pounds standing on it, although it flexed noticeably and one of the latches popped open when I moved around on it as if working on something overhead. It’s more than strong enough to serve as a stool, or to have another loaded Action Packer or even two stacked on it for storage at home (not in transit). Watch for plastic flow if you do this, however—sometimes a container will seem to be supporting weight just fine at first, only to slowly spread or collapse over time. I found the Action Packer to be very dust-resistant; however, it failed even the basic, vertical rain test, as a significant amount of water was able to leak in where the pins of the latch/handles protrude into the interior. When I aimed spray at the side of the lid, using thumb pressure on the hose to simulate, say, driving through rain with the box strapped on a roof rack, I found a lot of water inside. In a closed vehicle this shouldn’t be a concern—just don’t forget and leave it outside under cloud cover before going to bed. Also, watch it when accessing gear in a wind—that unsecured, lightweight lid will tumble out of reach in a flash. rubbermaid.com

Contico SUV Tuff Bin

$26

had to grit my teeth to buy something called an ‘SUV Tuff Bin.’ It wasn’t the ‘SUV’ part that bothered me as much as the ‘Tuff ’ part. What’s wrong with ‘Tough’? But enough editorializing. The Contico seems to represent a bargain at $26 for 2.5 cubic feet of storage—the lowest cost per unit of volume in the test. The structural-foam construction is surprisingly rigid—it’s perfectly capable of taking a ratchet strap, and looks good too. Molded-in handles on each end make carrying comfortable for one or two people. There are no latches, but matching holes in body and lid can be clipped or locked. The lid, which pivots on two six-inch hinges, stays erect when open, rather than flopping over backwards. There is no lid gasket whatsoever, but a countersunk rim behind the lid means that the box had no problem shrugging off vertically falling water. However, it certainly couldn’t be relied upon to fend off driving rain if lashed on a roof rack. The Contico is rigid enough to be securely strapped down, but when I stood on it the lid popped out of its track rather decisively, so I wouldn’t use it as a stepstool. It tolerated sitting with no trouble, and the lid incorporates two cupholders if you’re into cupholders. Maybe that explains the ‘SUV’ bit. While weight efficiency of the Contico is very good, as with the Action Packer volumetric efficiency is extremely low—just 56 percent, despite its generous 2.5-cubic-foot capacity (volumetric efficiency usually rises with volume). That’s a very poor ratio of internal capacity compared to how much exterior room the box takes up. The body of the box is heavily formed to increase structural strength, and the lid overhangs the body by a full inch all the way around. Open the lid and look inside and it’s genuinely surprising how much smaller the interior is compared to the overall footprint. Put several of these boxes in the back of a vehicle and there will be a lot of wasted space between them. contico.com, 800-831-7077

Pros:

• Inexpensive • Rainproof • Good rigidity

Cons:

• Very poor volumetric efficiency • No latches • Limited size range

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Pros:

• Inexpensive • Very tough • Space-efficient and stackable • Rainproof

Cons:

• Limited size range • Fragile latches

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Bundu Box

$40

he Bundu Box is Bundu Gear’s proprietary name for a case that is ubiquitous in Africa— the origin of the design was an ammunition box designed for the South African Defense Force. It certainly has a no-nonsense military look to it—squat, square, and available in any shade of plain black you like. It’s easily the most unassuming of all the cases here if you like to avoid an ostentatious presence while traveling—a smart strategy in most of the world. The box is available in three sizes, of which this 1.1-cubic-foot version is the smallest. Despite that, volumetric efficiency was decent at 66 percent—well ahead of the Action Packer, which has identical interior volume. And the interior of the Bundu Box is a lovely, practical rectangle, uncompromised by sloping walls or other intrusions—the reinforcing ribs are all on the outside, which is itself a rectangular cube, making close packing with other boxes easy. Four plastic spring clips hold the separate lid in place. I’ve seen numerous examples of these boxes that had broken clips; however, they are easily and cheaply replaced, and the redundancy makes complete loss of a lid virtually impossible (Bundu Gear is investigating spring steel substitutes). Installing the lid can be maddening at first go—one clip always seems to get caught underneath. The trick is to grasp the lid by one side, holding those two clips out of the way, then give a quick flip to move the clips on the other side out of the way while anchoring that side. It quickly becomes instinctive. Rain is no problem for the Bundu Box, and the molded channels in the lid let water drain off, unlike, say, the Contico with its depressions and cupholders. However, there is no gasket, so it would be prudent to avoid exposure to driving rain or, of course, immersion. The box held my weight easily, although it flexed noticeably if I stood directly in the middle. We used a twin of the Bundu Box as a stepstool on a long trip around Tanzania and it held up just fine. System versatility is theoretically somewhat limited, given only three available sizes, but the useful shape compensates for that. Also, the small box is ideally sized to incorporate into a horizontally divided cargo area—the back end of a 110 (rear seat in place) will hold five between the wheel wells. That’s a lot of equipment. The boxes also stack very solidly. Two small boxes don’t even reach window height in the back of our FJ60, and you can crank as hard as you like on your ratchet strap to secure them. bundugear.com, 866-557-3504

ECS Composites Military Footlocker

he original military footlocker was designed to hold all of one recruit’s personal gear. Why not extend the concept to vehicular storage? ECS’s take on the footlocker, rotomolded from low-density linear polyethylene (which is recyclable), incorporates a generous bottom compartment and two large removable top trays. It’s big enough (4.1 cubic feet) to store a lot of stuff, if perhaps not quite everything one might need on a long trip. The trays, each 17 by 14 by 4 inches, sit on molded-in blocks, and are excellent for storing miscellaneous items or things one wants frequently. The trays fit fairly loosely, but are held in place snugly when the lid is closed by a reticulated foam pad glued to the inside of the lid—which unfortunately reduces interior volume somewhat. I experimented by simply ripping out the foam, which, a) made a right mess, as it was secured with a mystery adhesive that might have prevented a lot of trouble at NASA, and, b) allowed the trays to rattle around unless packed full enough so the lid squished the contents. The trays did not, however, as I feared they would, bounce around enough to tip into the bottom compartment. So it’s your choice if you want the extra couple of inches of height. I’d leave the foam. The reduced space in the lid is further exacerbated by the double-walled construction of the majority of the case, which creates an immensely strong structure but helps reduce volumetric efficiency to the third lowest in the test, at just 61 percent. At least whatever is inside will be well-protected. Despite the large area of the lid, I could jump around on it with little effect, and the double walls mean that even if you managed to dent one with, say, a four-pound sledge wielded in fury, the inside wall and contents would remain inviolate. The top surface of the lid is molded with a pattern of massive square blocks which, in addition to adding rigidity, mate with corresponding patterns on the bottom of all ECS cases to positively lock them when stacked together and strapped down (think bad landing on a dirt strip in a C-130). A side benefit is that the blocks provide a slip-proof channel for ratchet straps. The ECS footlocker has two sturdy, spring-loaded handles on each end, and rolls on a pair of very large wheels—fortunate, because this thing weighs 37 pounds before you put your BDUs inside. The lid closes with no fewer than seven latches, two of which are lockable. Strangely, the three hinges are dainty things, each only an inch wide, fastened with one-way slotted security screws, which would make replacement (or, of course, removal by a thief) difficult. Neither vertical splashing nor pressurized spray resulted in any leaks in the footlocker whatsoever—the pressure equalization valve on this case is not just for looks. If the footlocker doesn’t interest you, ECS stocks a line of standard Loadmaster cases in 64 sizes, from 16 inches square up to one big enough to comfortably ensconce a military-issue vampire. transitcases.com, 541-476-8871

$308

Pros:

• Extremely sturdy and stackable • Huge range of sizes • Water- and dustproof • Excellent content organization

Cons:

• Poor volumetric efficiency • Very poor weight efficiency

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Caribou 7300

Pros:

• Excellent, strong, proprietary fastening system • Easily opened latches on SKB case • Very good weight efficiency

Cons:

• Difficult to reorganize case location • External brackets can be hazardous

Overland Journal Gear 2011

$340 ($250 case alone; $94 External Fastening System alone)

aribou Cargo Box Systems carries cases made by Pelican (smaller sizes) and SKB—but the company’s claim to fame is its innovative mounting system, which allows any of the cases, from a compact Pelican 1500 up to the spacious SKB 7300 here (or, in fact, ammunition cans or virtually any other boxy container) to be instantly and securely fastened to almost any flat surface, or to a set of Thule or Yakima-type roof-rack crossbars—thus dispensing with the need for ratchet straps or cargo nets, and allowing easy access to the case contents while ensuring cargo-area safety. First let’s look at the SKB case. It’s injection-molded of a copolymer polypropylene with a handsome satin black finish. The 7300 furnished by Caribou is the largest case in the test by interior volume, at 4.33 cubic feet. Partially as a result of that, its volumetric efficiency is good—73 percent, far better than the ECS footlocker that has slightly less volume, although it lacks the double-wall reinforcement of that unit. The latches are a double-lever design that, if anything, are even easier to open than those on the Storm case. Caribou installs a pair of keyed cylinder locks—a nice touch—and there are steelreinforced padlock holes as well. The SKB survived both falling and sprayed water with no leaks. Caribou’s fastener kits are available in either external or internal configuration. The external kit supplied with the SKB case comprised two stainless-steel slotted brackets on the back of the case, which slide into corresponding fittings that can be bolted to a flat surface or attached to roof-rack rails. The two front fittings attach to their bases via pins which twist and lock in with a quarter turn, very similar to a Dzus fastener. The key used is proprietary, so once locked in the case is not only secured, it’s also resistant to casual theft. The internal system is similar, except it uses four twist pins and no slots. Lest this all sound marginal to you in terms of strength, note that the working load limit of the internal four-pin system is a cumulative 500 pounds, with 700 pounds shear strength. That easily matches the rating of most ratchet straps—and you’re left with instant access to the interior of your case. Caribou also sells what it calls Pel-Locators—a set of four base plates with recesses that grab the bottom feet of a Pelican case. With these bolted down and a Pelican case nestled into them, a single ratchet strap is sufficient to keep the case firmly anchored. Whether you choose a complete kit with a Caribou-supplied Pelican or SKB case, or just the locator kits, the Caribou system offers a fast, convenient, and strong method for securing equipment. cariboucargo.com, 303-786-8947

Pelican 1600

$130

conducted my first real-world test of a Pelican case a decade ago in Zambia, where I had all my cameras loaded in a Lowepro Omni Pro Extreme system, which comprised a padded, compartmented case nested inside a Pelican 1500. On a game drive in an open Land Rover a journalist behind me balanced the case on the rear seat back while changing positions, and it toppled off the vehicle at about 15 miles per hour. I spun around when I heard the moro . . . er, fellow, say, “Uh-oh,” and watched as the case hit the ground and performed several cartwheels before toppling to its side in a mound of fresh elephant dung. Of course, all my equipment survived in perfect order—and that pretty much sums up the kind of performance you can expect from any Pelican. When your gear absolutely, positively has to be protected from water, dirt, shock, and general mayhem, few containers short of an M1 Abrams will match a foamlined Pelican case. The 1600 is molded from a foamed polycarbonate blend, the exact formulation of which is guarded as jealously as the recipe for Coca Cola. The surface has a pleasing matte texture that resembles fiberglass and disguises minor nicks and scratches. Theoretically the plastic should be sensitive to UV degradation; however, my very first Pelican case was a 1400 I kept strapped to the rear deck of my sea kayak on numberless journeys, fully exposed to salt water and sun. It’s still in fine condition, so I don’t worry too much about that aspect. In terms of rigidity the material is superb—I could stand on the lid of the 1600 and create no more than a quarter inch of deflection, and I’ve done so on much larger Pelicans with little more effect. The 1600 meets rigid IEC (International Electrotechnical Commission) IP67 standards. IP stands for the International Protection Rating, a scale of numbers designating effectiveness against intrusion by solids (first number) and liquids (second number). The 6 and 7 in the Pelican’s rating mean the case is completely immune to dust intrusion, and waterproof to a depth of one meter for a test period of 30 minutes. It laughed at my pathetic assault with a hose. Twin padlock holes on the case are protected with stainless-steel inserts. The company’s redesigned double-action latches are infinitely easier to use than the originals (which were often the target of vile curses when I needed a lens right now), but they’re still not as effortless as those on the Storm or SKB. As always, Pelican includes a blank, slide-in nameplate which they will replace with a black version engraved with your name and address for $10—a stylish and useful touch. The 1600 we were sent for review, like all Pelicans, is heavy for its volume (7.6 pounds per cubic foot, much higher than even the welded aluminum Frontier Play box) and not particularly space-efficient (68 percent interior to exterior volume). However, many sizes are available, and of course, unlike the Zarges, Action Packer, and Frontier Play boxes, the Pelican is perfectly happy stored either flat or upright. It’s rigidity makes it easy to secure with a ratchet strap in any position. pelican.com, 800-473-5422

Pros:

• Completely water- and dustproof • Extremely rigid and shock-resistant • Securely lockable • Wide range of sizes

Cons:

• Middling space and weight efficiency • High-profile for theft risk

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Pros:

• Easy-to-use latches • Lighter than equivalent Pelican • Rain- and dust-proof • Good range of sizes

Cons:

• Not completely watertight • Not as rigid as equivalent Pelican

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Storm iM2700

$130

torm, formerly of Hardigg, is now branded by Pelican (which bought Hardigg but split it off with different products—got that?). This further blurs the already hazy differences between the two case lines, which are superficially almost identical. I had the company send me the same size Pelican and Storm models so I could determine once and for all just what, if anything, differentiates the two. As it turns out, there are significant differences. The most telling is weight: The Storm iM2700 tips the scales at 11.2 pounds, compared to the Pelican 1600’s 12.2. This is mostly due to the Storm’s lighter construction of what the company calls HPX Resin, a molded polycarbonate with a slick surface that contrasts with Pelican’s textured finish. The difference in rigidity takes no dial indicator to confirm: Pressing down on the middle of the Storm’s lid or bottom results in noticeable deflection; doing the same to the Pelican results in hardly any. The Storm does not match the IP67 rating of the Pelican, rather it meets the less-stringent MIL STD 810F, which among other differences does not require submersion. If you’re interested in learning more about the 810F standard, the U.S. government will be happy to let you download their 530-page manual detailing test procedures, parameters, and equipment. The Storm passed my simulated falling rain test with no problems (although I can’t confirm that my ‘mean droplet size’ conformed to the official specifications on page 147). However, while checking for water intrusion I noticed that the gap between the closed lid and body of the Storm, in between the latches, is noticeably wider toward the middle, betraying some flex. When I aimed the hose with some force (using thumb pressure) directly at that spot, I was able to force a few drops of water inside. Doing the same on the Pelican, which displays a perfectly even gap in the same spot, produced no leaks. While this might be an unlikely scenario in the real world, it could be a potential trouble spot in extreme situations such as accidental immersion. Another difference in the manufacturer’s ratings between these two cases is intriguing: The temperature range of the Pelican is given as -40ºF to 210ºF; the Storm has a much narrower span, from -20ºF to +140ºF. Since interior temperatures in a vehicle left out in the summer sun in Arizona can top 150ºF, that could be a factor in a purchase, although I must say I don’t expect a Storm case left in a Land Cruiser in Tucson in June to melt spontaneously into a pile of sludge. Interestingly, the Storm’s full-width hinge is superior in theory to the Pelican’s pair of short hinges. Suffice to say neither is likely to fail. In other areas, the Storm lacks some of the Pelican’s features—the padlock holes aren’t reinforced with steel, and there is no slide-in nameplate. But there is no doubt the Storm’s push/pull latches are far, far easier to open and close than those on its cousin. In objective measurements the Storm scored slightly better than the Pelican in volumetric efficiency (72 percent), and noticeably better in weight efficiency (6.4 lbs. per cubic foot). pelican.com, 800-473-5422

Zarges K470 #40678

$275

’ve noticed something interesting—if utterly irrelevant to this discussion—in the several years I’ve been using Zarges cases: They’ve become the container-of-choice in numerous Bourne/ Salt/Mission Impossible-type flicks, glimpsed in the background being loaded into cargo ships and helicopters and the equally ubiquitous SUV-of-choice of such movies, black Chevy Sub-

urbans. That says more about the consummately professional yet vaguely covert appearance of Zarges cases—they just look like something in which Executive Outcomes would ship contraband Stingers or M4s—than it does about their utility. But, stardom aside, Zarges cases are very utilitarian indeed. The 40678 case here (even the designations sound Top Secret) is one of 27 models in Zarges’s K470 line—and there are at least eight other lines in the company’s inventory, from simple shipping boxes to vapor-proof aluminum vaults designed for transporting hazardous materials. Constructed of rolled, welded, and riveted sheet aluminum with cast aluminum trim, the K470 shipping cases enclose a lot of volume for their weight, yet retain immense strength and durability. You can dent the side of one with a misplaced kick, true, but then just kick it back out and consider it patina (the first Zarges cases I ever encountered were beat-up veterans of years of Namib Desert use, scarred but fully functional). The main body of the K470 is a single vertical sheet of 1mm-thick aluminum (1.5mm in larger sizes) rolled around four sides and welded, then crimped inside a fat perimeter aluminum strip to the bottom. The lid is another formed sheet, secured with a full-width piano hinge and two wide, lockable latches, and held open with paired nylon straps. Cast corners on the lid facilitate secure stacking. Padded, springloaded handles on each end are attached on wide bases with five large rivets to distribute stress. The case easily passed the rain test, thanks to factory applied silicone sealing around the bottom and a substantially overhanging, gasketed lid. At 1.47 cubic feet of volume, the 40678 is toward the smaller end of the K470 line, and thus the benefits of the sheet-aluminum construction aren’t as dramatic—in weight efficiency it’s only slightly better than the Pelican 1600. But as sizes go up the gap widens. The Zarges 40859 case, for example, which encloses similar volume to the 37-pound ECS footlocker and the 23-pound Caribou/SKB, weighs just 14.5 pounds. One of the best features of the Zarges (hard ‘g’ by the way) system makes itself known only when you’re back home: The company offers a set of clip-on, industrial-strength casters which you can install in seconds on your largest case to convert it to a rolling storage cart for the rest. We stack up five or six cases permanently loaded with all our camping gear, then roll the lot into a corner of the shop, where they take up the floor space of only one box. If visitors ask what’s in them, I just say, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” zarges.com, 888-357-6285

Pros:

• Immensely durable; recyclable • Very good space and weight efficiency • Rain- and dustproof • Securely stackable • Large range of sizes

Cons:

• Very expensive • Thin aluminum dents easily

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Pros:

• Immensely durable; recyclable • Very good space and weight efficiency • Rain- and dustproof • Good range of sizes

Cons:

• Expensive • Thin aluminum dents easily • Vulnerable lid gasket • Lower-grade rivets than Zarges

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Alu-Box 20-Liter

$180

aul May of Equipt Expedition Outfitters alerted me to the Alu-Box after I’d already assembled all the cases for the review. He struggled mightily to get a medium-sized sample shipped to me from Denmark in time to be included. Unfortunately the shipment disappeared off the face of the earth—the official UPS response said, no joke, “Your package has suffered an exception.” So Paul loaned me the case he had brought back from the All-Rad show. Unfortunately it is the company’s smallest, 20-liter, size—just .59 cubic feet—which means it suffers mightily in objective ratings such as weight efficiency and cost per unit of volume, both of which improve with case size. So view the Alu-Box’s numerical rating with that in mind. When I lifted the Alu-Box out of the shipping container, the resemblance to a Zarges was impossible to miss; denying it’s a copy would be futile. The construction is identical under a cursory inspection: the same 1mm aluminum sheet folded to form the body, a crimped extruded bottom perimeter, cast aluminum corners to facilitate stacking, twin lockable latches, riveted hardware, optional casters—the list goes on. However, inspection revealed a couple of differences. Salient among these are the rivets used on each case. The Zarges is assembled with solid rivets of the type employed on aircraft (and Land Rover Defenders). A solid rivet comprises a single piece of metal with a formed head, which is inserted through the material to be riveted and then hammered back on itself to form a monolithic fastener that is immensely durable—just go check any of the 500,000 rivets on a 70-year-old DC-3. Solid rivets are also aesthetically pleasing, since on either end all you see is a rounded head. The Alu-Box is assembled with blind, or to use the trademarked term, POP, rivets, which are made in two pieces and fasten by deformation of the hollow shaft. Blind rivets can be extremely strong, but are ultimately less durable than solid rivets. On the other hand, if a blind rivet does fail it can be matched at any hardware store. Given the relatively mild stress to which the rivets on the Alu-Box will be subjected—no fewer than seven attach each hinge, for example—I don’t expect the blind rivets will present a problem. I noticed another difference in the lid gasket, which is held in a groove in the lid on the Zarges, but partially recessed in the upper edge of the body in the Alu-Box, where it might be more prone to damage. A final difference? Price: The Alu-Boxes appear to be about 20 percent less expensive than similarsized Zarges cases. Given what I expect will be similar real-world performance, that’s a difference worth considering. alu-box.com; available from equipt1.com, 866-703-1026

Frontier Play Captain’s Side Box

$150

was immediately impressed with the simple and rugged honesty of this aluminum box, originally designed for river rafting. It’s welded in China of heavy-walled, .080-inch-thick aluminum, with a welded lid sealed by two thick rubber gaskets backed up by an overlapping lip. The welds are cosmetically a bit crude but undeniably stout, and despite the thick material and a total weight of 15 pounds, the Captain’s Box beats the Zarges for weight efficiency, at 6.2 pounds per cubic foot compared to 7.0. It also boasts the best volumetric efficiency of all the products here, at 83 percent interior to exterior space. Hardware on the box is a mix of stainless Phillips stuff you could find at any hardware store— which must be considered a good thing. The twin latches and side-mounted carrying handles are fastened with flat-headed machine screws that don’t fit nearly flush, but they’re backed up with rubber washers and nylock nuts. The double, six-inch piano hinges are each attached with six larger roundheaded machine screws, and the opened lid is held vertical with a wire cable on each side. All extremely stout. (I’d be tempted to ditch the flat-headed screws for more visually consistent and less-snag-prone round-headed replacements.) Latches are the low-profile twist-and-clamp style, to which the company recently switched to reduce barked shins among river rafters, I was told. The downside is, they’re not lockable—however, given the workmanlike nature of this box I’d have no hesitation simply bolting on a stainless-steel hasp if needed. Rubber-padded handles provide solid strapping points, or one could easily drill and bolt down the box to the side of a cargo area for a permanent installation. The handles are spring-loaded to eliminate rattles in transit. Double gaskets and the overhanging lid rendered the Captain’s Box immune to any sort of hose spray I could produce—as one should expect for a box intended to survive multiple runs through Lava Falls strapped to an open-framed cataraft. The Frontier Play Captain’s Side Box might lack the cachet of a Pelican or a Zarges, but if you can work your storage requirements around its two available sizes, it’s a sturdy and eminently usable box. Oh—If you order one, don’t be alarmed by the huge, colorful Frontier Play stickers plastered to the front and rear of the case: They peel off easily, and a little citrus solvent will remove the remnant adhesive. Note to Frontier Play: This handsome box deserves a more handsome label. frontierplay.com, 208-734-0295

Pros:

• Very good value • Extremely strong welded construction • Best volumetric efficiency • Water- and dustproof

Cons:

• Crude welds • Limited sizing • Not lockable

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Conclusions

s I mentioned early on, personal requirements for equipment containers vary so widely, even within an individual vehicle expected to carry an assortment of gear from lingerie to laptops, that trying to choose one case as ‘the best’ for all needs is futile. Therefore, in this test as in few others we’ve conducted, one’s own needs must be prioritized. The Rubbermaid Action Packer obviously has initial cost in its favor. It’s lightweight, reasonably tough, and dust-resistant. Downsides start with very poor space efficiency due to the sloping sides, double-layer lid, and channeling necessary to maintain structural integrity. If you leave it out in the rain, the contents will get wet. The Action Packer is fine as a home storage box, but in the field I prefer more efficiency, strength, and weather resistance. The Contico Tuff Bin offers a lot of storage space for the money—you’ll note its cost per cubic foot is less than one-tenth that of the Zarges. It’s rainproof, and tough enough to take a ratchet strap. Its major downfall is abysmal volumetric efficiency. Consider the effects of having nearly half the storage space in your cargo area taken up by the storage containers themselves. Even the Pelican case—which boasts complete weather sealing and significantly higher rigidity—is more efficient in its use of space. I have tremendous respect and affection for the Bundu Box, thanks to long experience with its African cousins. It’s tough as rhino hide, easy to carry and secure, and despite a limited range of sizes is versatile for many different kinds of contents. A lightly loaded Bundu Box makes a handy and solid stepstool for accessing the rear of the vehicle or the engine compartment. Drawbacks are few: Sizing is restricted, especially for larger gear, and the latches are a known point of failure, albeit with triple backup to render the loss of a lid unlikely (and replacing a latch is a two-minute process). With a price only $20 higher than a similar-sized but much-lesssturdy Rubbermaid Action Packer, the Bundu Box easily cinched the Value Award. The ECS Footlocker has the potential to be a one-box-fits-everything container. It’s exceptionally rugged, waterproof, rollable, and the trays are very useful for organizing the contents. The grid-molded exterior enables both secure stacking and absolutely secure strapping down. But it’s significantly the heaviest case here per unit of volume, and poor in volumetric efficiency as well. If security of the contents outOverland Journal Gear 2011

weighs that, it—or any of the many other ECS cases—is an excellent choice, especially in larger sizes where structural rigidity is harder to achieve with lighter construction. The Caribou system, using as it does cases from outside makers, is in a unique but enviable position, since its elegant, strong, and fast mounting hardware can be attached to almost any product here. Whether you order just a mounting kit, or a convenient all-in-one package, Caribou offers a way to secure many kinds of cases instantly, while retaining easy access to the contents by eliminating the complexity of straps or nets. The Pelican case performed exactly as my 20 years of experience with the brand led me to expect. There’s simply nothing better when you need complete protection for the contents and are willing to put up with the relative inefficiency in mass and bulk. The outwardly similar Hardigg Storm benefits from lighter weight and much more convenient latches, but its less-rigid structure and less-than-perfect water sealing compromised the qualities one expects in these types of cases. Given the close pricing between the two brands (often exactly the same in discount outlets), the Pelican is the clear winner. If optimal use of space is paramount for your application, the Zarges and Alu-Box containers are hard to beat, due to their good volumetric and weight efficiency, large range of sizes, and securely stackable configuration. The thin-walled aluminum construction is rigid and immensely durable—you could leave these outside for decades with little harm—albeit vulnerable to denting and prone to rattles unless packed and strapped in carefully. If you ever manage to completely wreck one, just drop it in a recycling bin. Zarges is the original; it employs higher-quality solid rivets in its construction and an arguably superior lid gasket design; the Alu-Box gets by with blind rivets and a more vulnerable gasket, but costs appreciably less in each size—and the company seems to be targeting overlanders heavily in its marketing. I admit to a loyalty to the original, but real-world protection of contents is probably a wash between them. The Frontier Play box is the most spaceefficient container here, although it lacks the range of sizing (two only) and stackability of the other aluminum cases. On the other hand, it’s far more resistant to careless kicks and pokes than the thinner-walled aluminum, and

if forgotten somewhere would likely show up in usable condition in an archaeological dig millennia hence. Considering the welded construction it’s a bargain, and was a solid runner-up for the Value Award. I think the Frontier Play box would work brilliantly in a semi-permanent installation, bolted or strapped to the floor on the side of the cargo area for gear one wants to stay with the vehicle—in fact, that’s exactly what I plan to do with the test sample, in my FJ40. I do wish it had a less goofy name—perhaps I’ll simply refer to it as the FP box. In the end, the Editor’s Choice was a dead heat between the Zarges and the Pelican. Each excels in entirely different areas, and each will fill different needs ideally. I debated seriously splitting the top place between them, but that seemed like a copout. So I asked myself a purely hypothetical question: If I could own any— but only one—brand of case for all my packing needs, which one would I pick? The answer then became clear: I’d choose to err on the side of total, tsunami-defying protection, and put up with the weight and space inefficiency of the Pelican system. Thus, “The moving finger writes; and, having writ, moves on . . . ” Fortunately, my hypothetical exercise was only that. In the real world we can pick and choose the best products for each application. Combine a truck full of Pelican and Zarges containers and you’ll have the very finest of all storage systems.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Cases Comparison

Rubbermaid

Contico

Bundu Gear

ECS

Caribou

Pelican

Storm

Zarges

Alu-Box

Frontier Play

Model

Action Packer

SUV Tuff Bin

Bundu Box

Footlocker

7300

1600

iM2700

K470 40678

20-Liter

Captain's Box (medium)

Price

$20

$26

$40

$308

$370 (with fastening system & rails)

$130

$275

$180

$175

External dimensions (inches)

20 x 14.5 x 12

35.4 x 15.5 x 13.75

20.25 x 15.75 x 9

33.5 x 21 x 16.75

31.5 x 20.5 x 15.75

24.25 x 19.5 x 8.75

24.5 x 19.5 x 8.5

21.5 x 13.5 x 8.75

15.5 x 11.5 x 8.25

25.5 x 12.75 x 15.5

Interior volume (cubic feet)

1.1

2.5

1.1

4.1

4.33

1.6

1.73

1.47

.59

2.42

Weight (pounds)

4.6

6.4

37.4

23.4

12.2

11.2

10.4

Material

Polyethylene

Structural foam

Injectionmolded polyethylene

Low-density linear polyethylene

Injectionmolded polypropylene

Foamed polycarbonate

Polycarbonate

1mm aluminum

.080" welded aluminum

Volumetric efficiency (% interior to exterior volume)

53%

56%

66%

61%

73%

68%

72%

73%

69%

83%

Weight efficiency (pounds per cubic foot of volume)

4.2

5.6

5.8

9.1

5.4

7.6

6.4

7.1

10.2

6.2

Cost per cubic foot volume

$18

$10

$36

$75

$57 (case only)

$81

$75

$187

$305

$72

Rubbermaid

Contico

Bundu Gear

ECS

Caribou

Pelican

Storm

Zarges

Alu-Box

Frontier Play

Volumetric efficiency

Weight efficiency

System versatility

Cost per unit volume

Weather resistance

Numerical rating (higher is better)

Ratings

Overland Journal Gear 2011

OVERLAND CHEF

Zach Berning and Jonathan Snaza Overland Gourmet

The Auspit Do your outdoor roasting the Aussie way

No worries about leftovers, as you’ll quickly make new friends out of any campers within earshot.

Pros:

• Great for larger groups • Perfect for slow-roasting foods • Easy to operate

Cons:

• Loud motor • No manual crank • Instructions lack photos and/or diagrams Overland Journal Gear 2011

Interested in trying a different method of outdoor cooking on your next expedition? You might consider the Auspit, a battery-powered portable rotisserie from Australia designed to slow-roast your favorite meats and vegetables over an open campfire. The Auspit comes in a large zippered carry bag with ample room for important extras such as cooking tongs and D batteries. The kit includes a large metal stake, spit, roasting basket, the spit housing, battery powered motor, gloves, instructions, and recipe guide. We were excited to see the roasting basket, which looked perfect for slow-roasting smaller items such as vegetables or potatoes. The instructions could benefit greatly from added photos or diagrams. The plain text definitely leaves something to be desired (and the recipe guide, a random collection of sauces and dishes typed in no orderly fashion on a piece of paper, was a nice thought but appeared to be a last-minute addition). However, assembly of the Auspit is pretty straightforward once you’ve grasped the concept. Hammer the large enclosed stake into the ground and attach the housing. The housing holds the spit horizontally; the battery-powered motor, which runs on two included D cells, acts as a counterweight. Turn on the motor and you’ll have no doubts that it’s working: The motor sounds like it’s grinding to a slow, painful, and never-ending death. No worries about leftovers, as you’ll quickly make new friends out of any campers within earshot. If you prefer the quiet and peaceful tranquility of the great outdoors, the Auspit isn’t for you. The Auspit has a recommended maximum spit load of 20 pounds. For testing purposes, we decided to roast four bacon-wrapped Cornish game hens with a combined weight of 6.9 pounds. After prepping the coals and positioning the hens on the spit, we gave thanks for the enclosed leather gloves—the entire Auspit can get very hot. After inserting the spit into the housing and attaching the motor, we decided to sit back and enjoy the peace and . . . weather? During our three-hour cooking period, we enjoyed the ability to rotate the spit away from the fire and check on the hens. After slow-cooking our meal to perfection, we declared the Auspit a success. However, with that said, there are a few important considerations. Due to its weight and size, the Auspit is probably best utilized when cooking for more than two people. We were disappointed by the lack of a backup manual crank, as battery life and energy usage of the motor is an unknown. If you can overlook the noise, and always carry a couple extra D cells, the Auspit might be something to consider as a fun way to cook on the trail. auspitbbq.com

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Jeep Ultima Where do we mount the .50 caliber?

Testing and modifying a military Jeep exploration platform. By Scott Brady

Overland Journal Gear 2011

At the request of JGMS (Jeep Government and Military Sales), we pushed the limits of the J8's performance on Moab's Overland Journal Gear 2011 Behind the Rocks Trail.

e have to thank the Egyptians for the J8. Throughout the past 30 years, the Egyptian military has been an impetus for several important iterations of the Jeep, going all the way back to the CJ-6 and the iconic TJL. These vehicles have been mostly built in Egypt for that market by Arab American Vehicles (AAV), but the U.S. consumer has also benefited from the tooling and engineering of these small production runs, resulting in the availability of a highly capable option. The J8 was born from similar roots, though its application has become global with sales into nearly every continent on the globe. The success of the J8 is a result of limited and aging competition. Most of the vehicles the J8 competes with for military and peacekeeping contracts were designed three decades ago and lack the refinement, safety, and performance of the modern Jeep chassis. A safer vehicle means fewer lives lost and reduced costs, as the J8 has proven it will outperform any other vehicle in its class in high-speed handling, stability, and reduced driver fatigue. The Jeep’s payload exceeds a metric ton and the braking performance is without peer. Jeep recognized that this vehicle would not only be a success with military and peacekeeping units around the globe but also with the enthusiast. To test this theory, Jeep provided Overland Journal with a test vehicle at the 2010 Easter Jeep Safari and we can now share our findings here.

Evaluation Technical terrain performance The Jeep brand is known around the world for its technical terrain performance, further reinforced with the introduction of the Rubicon model in 2004. The Rubicon combines market-leading features like a push-button front sway bar disconnect, front and rear locking differentials, generous fender clearance for large tires and impressive approach and departure angles. The J8 benefits from all the chassis development work but strips away the electronic wizardry. This of course has its advantages and disadvantages. With the differential lockers and sway bar disconnect removed, the J8 sacrifices some performance at the limits of technical challenges, but benefits from ultimate simplicity. There is no ABS, no traction control, no electronic stability control and not even a seatbelt warning buzzer. For traction, the J8 relies on aggressive BFGoodrich Mud Terrain tires and a heavy-duty rear limited-slip differential (LSD). We have tested this vehicle in extreme conditions, including 4+ trails in Moab, Utah and severe terrain in Arizona, the long wheelbase, wide stance and LSD carrying us through. Most conceivable overland travel conditions are unlikely to stretch the J8’s capability. Overall driver fatigue performance is good with a rounded, predictable impact shock from surface irregularity and good chassis stability. Suspension amplitude on corrugations is small and induces limited lateral slip. There were no rattles noted or induced in hundreds of miles of corrugations. Low speed throttle modulation is excellent, thanks to the long pedal throw and the automatic transmission’s torque converter. Higher speed throttle modulation is a bit more of a challenge due to turbo lag. The VM Motori’s torque comes on like a freight train which is fun on the highway but can be difficult to modulate (causing unwanted wheel spin) on the dirt. It would be preferable to

Most conceivable overland travel conditions are unlikely to

stretch the J8’s capability. see the turbo come on a little sooner in the RPM range and operate more predictably. High speed dirt travel is excellent, aided by the wide track and long wheelbase of 116 inches. The class-leading brakes inspire confidence and the overall grip provided by the suspension tuning and BFG tires result in a safe and stable road driving experience. My only complaint with the higher speed performance is the vague steering and significant main shaft angle required to yield the desired yaw response. This deficiency exists with all the J8’s competition (save for the G-Wagen), but should be better given the modern chassis. I also found the gas to brake pedal transition awkward, and although most of my trail driving employs left-foot braking, the height of the brake pedal was uncomfortable after a few hours of driving. Ground clearance is excellent, with 9.1 inches under the huge Dana 60 rear axle and complemented with good overall running ground clearance. The quarter panels are protected by the Rubicon rock sliders and the front and rear bumpers look like repurposed railroad track. The four recovery points are rated to two times GVWR and are suitable for air lift. Visibility on the trail is average, especially out of the front windscreen, but it falls behind the G-Wagen, 70-series, and Defender. With the half-doors installed, the view out of the sides and rear is impressive. The one odd visibility quirk is that the snorkel blocks the driver’s view in the RHD variant and I am not convinced its placement is ideal on any account. Fortunately AEV will be producing a proper snorkel to remedy this. Despite the snorkel, the J8 has a serious air filter built by Donaldson which permits extended operations in severe dust environments. It will provide filtration for five-hours at zero visibility.

Suitability as an exploration platform We know what makes the J8 a great trail vehicle, but is it suitable for long-distance exploration? Beyond capability, overlanders need a vehicle to be durable and carry heavy loads (capacity) over long distances without failure. The J8 addresses the payload requirements with a progressive rear leaf-sprung suspension and a 5,000 pound rear axle rating. Total payload exceeds 2,500 pounds, over two times the standard Wrangler’s rating. Just handling this weight is not enough as you also must be able to stop it. The J8 has best of breed braking with 13.2-inch front ventilated discs and rear 13.9-inch solid units. Fuel range is better than most with a 22-gallon factory tank and an estimated (best case scenario) range of 570 miles. This is quite good, and could easily be made better with the numerous options available to the Jeep Wrangler for extended fuel capacity. Overland Journal Gear 2011

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Reliability has proven to also be excellent, with no failures of the Jeep in nearly a year of driving it. I also suspect that the reliability of the J8 will be similar to the JK Wrangler, for which we have longterm tests over three different units and a combined 100,000 miles of serious use. In all those miles, we have never had a warranty claim— impressive.

On-road performance The reality of overland travel is that a significant percentage of the travel miles will be on improved roads, sometimes driving for days or weeks between off-piste excursions. As a result, the on-road handling and comfort of the vehicle is important, and can greatly reduce driver fatigue, lessen the chance of an accident and allow for more efficient travel. The J8 reflects much of the driving comfort gained from the JK, including supportive seats, good HVAC (Heating, Ventilation and Air Conditioning) performance, reduced wind noise and a surprisingly smooth ride. Certainly there is more total NVH (Noise, Vibration and Harshness) than a Grand Cherokee, but it is better than most comparable platforms. The one area I found lacking was the shock damping, which is mismatched to the spring rates and could be much firmer.

1. Ultimately, the FLIR camera needed to be relocated to the outside of the grill, as it was obstructed by the winch. 2. The magic for the J8 starts under the hood with the 2.8L VM turbodiesel. 3. Truck-lite's redesigned 7" LED headlights were installed along with a Warn 9,500 pound winch and Viking synthetic winch line. 4. The stock front bumper includes severe duty recovery and airlift rings along with a strong c-channel steel bumper. 5. A FLIR color IR camera was installed and provides impressive detail day or night. 6. The oversized Donaldson air filter is specified to provide clean engine air, even after a five-hour sandstorm. 7. Many thoughtful details on the Adventure Trailers Habitat system, including an ORTT recovery strap holder and 12v outlets. 8. The final destination of this vehicle is clear on the fire extinguisher. 9. The rear bumper includes airlift/recovery points and a pintle. Opposite: With the Habitat deployed, the total area of the vehicle does not change and the vehicle can be repositioned to provide shade.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

This is most notable in a lane change maneuver, where the chassis doesn’t settle as quickly as desired, inducing unnecessary sway. Fortunately, shocks are an easy thing to change.

Test conclusions As always, what separates great vehicles from simply good vehicles is in the details. The items I found exceptional about the J8 are the strength of the chassis and the recovery points. That combined with the large-diameter BFGoodrich Mud Terrains and an effective limitedslip differential provides serious technical terrain performance. The 2.8L turbocharged 4-cylinder provides not only excellent acceleration and torque but also 26 mile per gallon efficiency. The oil capacity is 6.6 liters, more than any other 4-cylinder in its class. All of these details reflect the decades of testing and real-world evaluation Jeep has dedicated to the J8 platform. This vehicle is a pleasure to drive and provides endless fun on the trail. On-road performance and safety is lightyears ahead of the 70-series and Defender with significant improvement in stability and high-speed handling. When loaded for a trip, the additional weight doesn’t even put a dent in the 2,500-pound payload. The only unknown is the actual availability of the J8 to consumers in North America. It is possible to call American Expedition Vehicles and reserve a slot for the first order of 50. However, production of the base vehicles has not begun at Jeep. I am hopeful that good things come to those who wait.

The Habitat in the closed position, demonstrating how little overhead clearance is lost and how nicely the top integrates with the lines of the Jeep. While technical obstacles like this are rare in real-world overland travel, washouts and challenges can arise that make the testing beforehand worthwhile.

Opposite: 1. The rear storage and food preparation configuration is excellent yet entirely simple and reliable. 2. On a double-extension slide, the fridge and the Partner Steel stove are accessible. 3. 60% of the rear seats were removed for more storage. The outlet for the hot water shower is also in this location. 4. With the side panel removed, the plumbing and hot water tank are visible. The entire arrangement is compact and easy to service. 5. Front struts for the tent secure quickly with pins. 6. Deployed, the tent provides significant interior space and adequate ventilation from five windows. 7. View into the tent from the rear passenger door. 8. The tent area is cavernous, even allowing sleeping for four with the entry port covered. 9. Entry to the tent is from the rear passenger door and is no more difficult than taking a seat. Leaving the smaller rear seat in place allows for an additional passenger, should you need that minder while crossing Turkmenistan.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Modifications Base vehicle modifications The J8 is much like the JK Rubicon, requiring very few modifications for serious use. In practice, the J8 requires even fewer modifications as the vehicle is delivered with a substantial payload rating, larger tires and more robust bumpers. We elected to make a few changes to satisfy our needs and satisfy my minimum requirements for an overland truck. The first adjustment we made was the installation of a 2M radio and a full recovery and tool kit. We tried out Viking OffRoad’s new gear bag and bought another Proxxon tool kit from T-Lo. Having a place to put all that gear securely (the Jeep still had a soft top) was solved quickly with a call to Adventure Trailers for a full-length drawer system. This was an innovation for them, and results in a wide, comfortable sleeping platform and full storage and lashing. The 40 percent portion of the split folding rear seat was retained. To further enhance backcountry performance and self-sufficiency, we installed the fast and reliable Warn 9.5 XP winch with 100 feet of Viking’s synthetic line. To address lighting while on the trail, we installed a pair of Lightforce 170 HIDs and their new Genesis 200 mm HID units on the front bumper. As a first for Overland Journal, we are testing the new FLIR color thermal night vision system. With an effective distance four times the headlights, we can see deer crossing the road at 400 yards. Imagine the added safety this unit will bring in third-world travel, if you can get it across the border. That was the extent of our base vehicle modifications. I had considered other bumpers and possibly a front locking differential, but after months of testing, we are going to leave it alone.

9. Overland Journal Gear 2011

A high-quality, simple solution is ultimately the most appealing, and in the end, the most effective. The Habitat

One product that we have been excited to test and feature is the new Adventure Trailers JK Habitat top. This unit replaces the factory soft or hard top and requires no permanent modification to the vehicle. It even looks (mostly) like a factory top and can retain all factory doors and window positions. It installs in just a few minutes which allows the Jeep to still be a Jeep, enjoying open air travel on those sunny days. The Habitat is constructed from automotive quality fiberglass with a gel coat finish. The top opens with the assistance of a torsion spring and crank handle, allowing setup to occur in less than a minute. Once deployed, the Habitat allows up to nine feet of headroom and sleeping for four. The forward half includes a three-inch mattress for a queen-size bed. The back half can be configured for storage, sleeping for two more occupants or even a few chairs. Access to the Habitat is best through the rear passenger doors, stepping into the Jeep much like if sitting in the back. Two panels are moved out of the way and then it is possible to stand up in the space above the rear passenger area. The opening is more of a hatch than a huge portal. This is by design, allowing the original roll bar to be retained. The tent is constructed from breathable and water-wicking fabric. A skirt flips over the top sides and prevents pooling. Window sizes are conservative but should permit sufficient ventilation. The Habitat also presents a surprising value, especially when other options are considered. The cost of a factory hard top (as an option), a roof rack and quality roof tent would easily be more than the Habitat and likely weigh more as well. Beyond the top, we worked with Adventure Trailers (AT) to add a few comfort systems to the Habitat. Along with the excellent drawer unit, a water storage bladder and hot water shower system was added. The hot water unit holds two gallons and mounts behind the passenger (driver in this case) seat. AT also installed their new model fridge slide which integrates a Partner Steel stove on a second slide. The entire unit double-slides allowing access to the fridge and both burners. It is one of the coolest products I have seen in years. On the Jeep tailgate, we installed one of Off Road Trail Tools flip-down tables. These modifications have made a notable improvement in camping comfort while not affecting the performance of the vehicle or introducing unnecessary complexity. The J8 with these few changes has proven to be a favorite in our offices with every staff member clamoring for the keys. It proves that a high-quality, simple solution is ultimately the most appealing, and in the end, the most effective.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

With the turbo spooled up, the Jeep has no trouble in sand dunes.

Specifications 2010 Jeep J8 Diesel: • • • • • • • • • • •

2.8L VM turbodiesel Extreme dust filtration system and snorkel Four-speed automatic transmission Dana 44 front axle, 3.73:1 gearing Dana 60 rear axle, 3.73:1 gearing with limited-slip 1 Ton braking system with front and rear discs 17" steel wheels with 5x5.5 bolt pattern 285/70 R17 BFGoodrich Mud Terrain tires Coil front suspension Leaf sprung rear suspension 2,500 pound payload (1,133 kilograms)

Modifications: • • • • • • • •

Warn 9.5 XP winch with mounting plate FLIR IR night vision camera LightForce A-pillar HID lights Yeasu 2M radio Escape Gear seat covers Mopar rubber floor mats Mopar rocker panel protection GearSafe rear locking compartment

Habitat System: • • • • • • • • •

JK Habitat top with queen size bed 2.5 gallon hot water wystem Adventure Trailers full drawer system 10-gallon fresh water bladder HD Deka AGM battery with 240 AH Blue Sea fuse block National Luna Weekender fridge/freeze Partner Steel stove on slide ORTT rear tailgate table

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Field Journal 78

Australian Outback by Audi

2011 Land Rovers

Grand Canyon by Royal Enfield

111

Project Vehicle: Range Rover Classic

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Off to the Overland Journal Gear 2011

Not to be outdone by past Overland Journal accounts of overlanding in tuk-tuks and Chevy vans, Ian Glover decides to thrash a mid-engined Audi sports car across the Australian Outback. By Ian Glover Photography by Thomas Wielecki

Races

Overland Journal Gear 2011

et on your computer and Google some statistics on Australia. You’ll see that its landmass is 2,966,140 square miles—roughly the size of the continental U.S., or about 5.7 percent of the land on Earth, excluding Antarctica. Population? A mere 22.5 million—versus America’s 310 million. If you’re lucky your Australian web map will have one of those ipsy-cutesy coloured population maps showing all the tinted intensity around the coast, with a faint blip in the centre where Alice Springs is located. Australians don’t just live on the coast because they like surfing. Fact is that most of the interior is desert or semi-desert. Where there’s little or no population, there’s little or no infrastructure because there’s little or no votes. So once you leave the tarmac of the main roads (which funnily enough are almost all on or near the coast), you’ll be forced to use chronically undermaintained dirt roads. It’s Toyota Land Cruiser country out there. And those roads, which in many cases are barely deserving of

the name ‘track,’ link some pretty remote towns with names such as Thargominda, Rabbit Flat, and Innamincka. But they don’t come any more remote than Birdsville, which is 735 miles from Adelaide, just under 1,000 miles from Brisbane, over 1,200 miles from Sydney, and over 2,000 miles from Perth, with not a lot in between. It’s flanked on the west by the Simpson Desert, on the south by Sturts Stony Desert and the Strzelecki Desert. The country to the north and east should be officially classified as desert because it gets less than 250mm (just under 10 inches) of rain a year. You get the picture. So, I hear you ask, why is it there? Birdsville (then known as Diamantina Crossing) was established late in the 19th century as a toll collection point for people trying to sneak stock and supplies into South Australia from Queensland. By the turn of the century, it had a population of over 300, three pubs, a cordial factory, blacksmith, market gardens, a police station and a customs house. But when the separate states were formed into

The R8 is a fair-dinkum supercar to 80

rival anything Ferrari,

Maserati, or Porsche can put up.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

a Commonwealth in 1901, interstate tolls were no longer charged, and the population dwindled to around 50 by the 1950s. It’s now 115, and the town is a service centre for both adventurous four-wheel drivers and the surrounding stations (ranches)—believe it or not, it’s great cattle-fattening country. While there’s not much in the way of vegetation, what there is has incredible nutrient value. But for a few days every September, Birdsville’s population figure rockets to about 6,000. People come from everywhere for the Birdsville Races—many of them in light planes, but most in Land Cruisers, Patrols, Land Cruisers, and more Land Cruisers. It has become Australia’s most iconic, legendary Outback horse-racing meet. Today most Australians are politically correct, conventional, boring brain-deads, just like 90 percent of people everywhere. A number of us, however, still have some Irish convict bastardry lurking within. So how about we take an Audi R8 to the Birdsville Races? Not up the Birdsville Track—any Aussie four-wheel driver’s ‘must-do-before-Idie’ pilgrimage—but the hard way. Somehow I managed to convince Audi Australia to lend me one. The R8 is a fair-dinkum supercar to rival anything Ferrari, Maserati, or Porsche can put up. Out here in Oz, it costs a cool quarter mil, is capable of speeds up to 185 mph, has no room for luggage, and ground clearance that would decapitate an inquisitive mouse. Sounds perfect. Our support vehicle was a Land Cruiser 100-Series gas-axed into a ute (sorry, pickup), laden with camping gear, spare tyres, puncture repair kits, tools, cooking gear, swags, and everything else three men need for an Outback adventure. Well, perhaps not everything. We set off from Sydney and overnighted at my farm in central western New South Wales, allowing ourselves a week for a journey that can be done in 24 hours in a 4WD if you swap drivers. Should be enough, eh? With any luck, we’d be tossing back beers in the Birdsville Hotel a few days before the races. The following morning, the trip began in earnest. Heading further inland to Wellington (named after the Duke of Wellington, hero of Waterloo, with a pub of the same name), Parkes (named after an early Australian politician), Bogan Gate (no idea where that one comes from, except that ‘bogan’ translates as ‘white trash’—a typical bogan joke is that he lets his 15-year-old daughter

Not the longest straight in the world, but bloody close. Opposite: The R8's stitched-leather interior collected surprisingly little Outback dust.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Clockwise from top left: Norm dusting the engine. Ian shaving Outback style, with blunt, nicked blade, of course (note brand on Ian's t-shirt). Mick/Pat with Deefer and Chops at White Cliffs. Overland Journal Gear 2011

Suddenly all our backup equipment seemed

smoke at the dinner table . . . in front of her kids—and the town was once mooted as a nuclear waste dump site), Condobolin (Aboriginal for ‘shallow crossing’), Lake Cargelligo (Aboriginal for ‘water container’), and Hillston (named after William Ward Hill, a stockman who set up an inn here and died of ‘exhaustion from intemperance’). The first white explorer in this district described the surrounding country as “uninhabitable and useless for all purposes of civilised man.” We camped that night by the side of our first dirt road, having stopped to ask a bloke in a disabled Kenworth loaded with hay if he needed a hand. “Nah mate, done a wheel bearing; got the missus coming ter pick me up.” We were already in unforgiving country. In the setting sun, the autostürmbahnführer looked completely out of its element, huddled and subdued, dwarfed—almost threatened— by the arching, gnarled limbs of massive gum trees. Out there in Cruiser land, it was tiny. How could a monster machine look so puny? The enormity of our task over the next week really hit home; our vulnerability all too obvious. Gawd, what had I done? The R8’s Pirelli P-Zero tyres— 265/35/19s at the front and massive unidirectional 295/30/19s at the rear—were anything but trail rubber; their ultra-low-profile sidewalls easy victims for slashing gibbers (Australian for big, sharp rocks). Suddenly all our backup equipment seemed woefully inadequate. If we had to travel too slowly, the R8 might overheat. Hit a big rock too hard and the alloy rims would shatter like Gordon Ramsay’s crockery. And with the drought still biting out there, the risk of hitting a roo or emu feeding on the green vegetation by the side of the road was constant. We’d done 324 miles that day, only a tenth of them dirt, but the temptation to give up was huge. I recalled what a Japanese Toyota executive said to me before we set off on an expedition through the Simpson, Great Victoria, Gibson, and

woefully inadequate. Great Sandy Deserts back in 1990, when noone went there but geologists: “Remember the Three Dees: Determination Defy Defeat!” Easy for him to say—he was staying in Melbourne. There’s only one thing wrong with camping in Australia: bush flies. Even at first light, they’re at your nose, in your mouth, trying to burrow into your ears. So we made an early start, experiencing the first bulldust of the trip. Bulldust is a uniquely Australian phenomenon, so I’ve been told (Editor’s note: Ha.). It’s a superfine dust like talcum powder, appears to breed in pockets and, when you hit it, detonates like Bikini Atoll, sending mushroom clouds hundreds of feet into the air. I had no doubt that the R8’s power and torque would pull it through easily, but hitting the ledge at the edge of the patches could easily buckle a wheel. It was critical to pick the right exit line. We dropped our speed even more (particularly over cattle grids resembling launch pads) travelling the 60 miles to Mossgiel on the Cobb Highway, a fine example of the Australian sense of humour. It, like the Plenty Highway that runs from the Queensland border to Alice Springs, and the Sandover Highway that takes you from Alice to Mount Isa in Queensland, is more often than not nothing more than a dirt track strewn with gibbers, massive bulldust patches, and deep wheel ruts formed after the last rains, probably in 1946. On to Ivanhoe for a refuel; we couldn’t believe it—premium unleaded (PULP) was on tap. The Nulon octane additive stayed behind my seat. “Whaddya doing out here in that?” the bloke on the bowser asked. “Go back— you’ve got bugger-all clearance, the tyres are completely wrong—where d’ya think yer goin’?” “Birdsville.” “Birdsville! Yer mad! Not a chance in a million years.”

It was a mix of tar and dirt to Wilcannia, then good tar on the Opal Miners Way to White Cliffs, where they mine . . . opals. Another refuel, more PULP out of a bowser— amazing. A bearded, long-haired bloke in an old Ford Falcon ute drove up to refuel and stared at us in disbelief (with one eye; there was a black patch over the other—suited the tats). Thomas, the photographer, asked if we could get a shot of him with the R8. He agreed, then invited us out to his claim. Images from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Deliverance flashed through my mind. “Me name’s Mick, but everyone calls me Pat,” he said. He’d been in White Cliffs since 1970 and lived in a van with a corrugated iron shack attached. “The bloke who had it before moved back in with his missus. I got it for a slab (a carton of beer).” Thomas spent his usual, inordinately long time photographing Mick/Pat with his dog (Deefer), pig (Pig) and goat (Chops), and it was almost sunset when we got on the road again. On the way out, I heard the first rock roll and rumble under the car. Bloody hell. We camped just out of town, in mulga country. Beauty—the coals would still be hot enough to make a cuppa in the morning. (The dense Mulga is a type of tree only found in arid/semi-arid regions.) Before we set off, my mate Norm and I inspected the engine bay. With air intakes just behind the doors, the engine was filthy, absolutely coated in fine, gritty dirt. Another worry—dusting the engine. We looked at the twin paper-element filters and decided we’d better give them a thorough clean with some compressed air at Tibooburra. We reckoned we’d have a pretty easy run along the 80 miles of dirt leading to the Silver City Highway (another misnomer), looking forward to a bit of easy driving. Around a year before, I’d brought my wife and sons out this way, and remembered that in our fairOverland Journal Gear 2011

To infinity and beyond. Opposite: “Hey Norm, what’s that thing doing out here?” Overland Journal Gear 2011

dinkum 4WD, the Silver City Highway had been a doddle. With my arse an inch or so off the ground, it wasn’t. The dirt sections were easily the worst yet, with corrugations grooved into the road by the devil himself. Norm’s voice came over the UHF radio in the Land Cruiser: “You know you’re actually bouncing into the air—that suspension and the stiff sidewalls on those P Zeros means you’ve got no bump absorption at all!” Normally you can find a speed that matches the harmonics of the corrugations, but at any speed I tried the R8 had St Vitus’s Dance. I crawled along, panicking that the constant battering would knock out the electrics, the electronics, and everything else. At this rate I’d be bringing the car back to Audi in a plastic bag. No PULP in Tib—but there was compressed air. We blew half the topsoil of Outback NSW out of the filters. On the other hand, for a vehicle where ‘dust sealing’ surely wasn’t even on the list of engineering priorities, the cabin was remarkably clean. So were we after paying three bucks a head for a shower at the Family Hotel. After the usual remarks, a group at the pub asked which route we were taking to Birdsville. “Through Warri Gate.” They shook their heads in unison. “You’d be better off cutting west to Innamincka and using the Walkers Crossing Track,” said one. “No we wouldn’t,” I said, having used it to get to Birdsville on the family trip. “It’d be okay until the last ten kays, but then you hit stretches of massive, sharp gibbers. I bottomed out a few times in a high clearance 4WD—we’d never get the R8 over them.” “Warri Gate has been really chopped up,” said another. “The corrugations are bloody terrible!” And then, what we hoped was a piece of typical Outback exaggeration: “The ruts out there can swallow buses and the boulders are as big as your bonnet.” Wondering why we’d taken on such a stupid quest, we headed north. Tibooburra, by the way, means ‘heap of granite rocks.’ The name fits. Late afternoon, we came to Warri Gate— a real gate in the Dingo Fence, the longest fence in the world, around 5,000 miles from near Toowoomba in Queensland to the Great Australian Bight. It’s supposed to keep dingoes away from sheep, but has fallen into disrepair in many sections. Here, it stretches straight to the horizon east and west, over plains so flat and featureless they were obvi-

The dirt sections were easily the worst yet, with corrugations grooved into the road by

the devil himself.

ously designed by God on the sixth day. Pushing on, we made camp as far off the road as possible, in a grove of trees, picking our way very carefully to avoid staking the R8’s tyres on any sharp, projecting sticks. In early morning sun, a fork in the sandy dirt told us we’d come 25 miles from Warri Gate. Straight ahead, 80 miles away, lay Noccundra, on a tarred road. The temptation was almost irresistible, but it would take us too far out of our way. To make Birdsville on time, we’d have to head northwest, through the Tickalara oil fields. A sign warned of deteriorating road conditions ahead. How could that be possible? For days, Norm and I had been sharing the driving, one hour on, one hour off—the concentration required to drive around any rocks bigger and sharper than tennis balls was so intense, that was all either of us could take in one session. You couldn’t look at the scenery, just the track, even when you were supposed to be relaxing for a while

as a passenger. At night, we dreamt about rocks. Never again. We passed Naryilco and Santos Stations, then came to the gate into Orientos Station. Beside it was a really nasty sign: ‘4WD Only.’ Things were going to get interesting. A road to the right (not on our maps) was signposted ‘Jackson Oil Field,’ but once again, it would take us too long to do the loop around to Birdsville. Already it was Thursday. The races started the following day, and we had almost 400 miles to go on the most direct route. We’d be lucky to make the races at all. As we shut the gate behind us, a light plane droned overhead, making a beeline for Birdsville. We were all thinking the same thing: That’s the way to do it. The track alternated between hard rock ledges and bulldust, muddy sections and an endless procession of plains covered in sharp rocks and marrow-liquefying corrugations that went on for hours. And then . . . Overland Journal Gear 2011

Overland Journal Gear 2011

The nightmare: R8 and genuine hardcore sand driving.

It was obviously a watercourse when it rained; deep sand between two earth cliffs cut by floodwaters. The track curved around behind the cliffs, making it impossible to fully see what lay ahead. Heavy-duty fourwheel drive vehicles had been through, making massive, deep ruts in the sand. If we fell into them, we’d belly out completely, and with the lack of suspension travel, the wheels wouldn’t even touch the ground. In first gear, I straddled the ruts. The R8’s light weight, fantastic torque, and wide rear tyres keeping us moving. A little bit further, a little bit further. The arse slid off and I gave it some squirt—gently, gently. The R8 clawed back onto the crown of the ruts—and dropped off the other side. As long as I could keep the front wheels up there, we should be right. Heart in mouth, clammy palms. It rode up again. We were through. That night, camped on a claypan, I thought that we might just make it—perhaps even without a puncture. (Just under 250 miles to go—I hoped I wasn’t counting my emus before they hatched.) The puncture happened within sight of the Birdsville Developmental Road; on my watch. I ran over a round gibber that compressed the tyre against the rim. Bugger, bugger, bugger! And only 125 miles to Birdsville. The Birdsville Developmental Road was no better than any of the others we’d been on, and worse in one way. Where we’d had the tracks to ourselves since Lake Cargelligo, on the BDR four-wheel-drives streaked past us, some towing trailers without mudflaps and throwing up rocks that could easily smash the windscreen. Only 50 miles east of Birdsville, we decided to make camp by a dry creek and plug the tyre. No point in racing anymore. In the morning, we quietly motored into town. Nothing had changed since I was there a year ago (and why would it?)—except it was packed with people, like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Not one of them believed us. “No bloody way! You couldn’ta driven that here. You’ve brought it up on a flatbed and taken it off just outa town.” “We did drive it here, and we’ve got the pics to prove it.” “What, you drove that up the Birdsville Track?” “No, we didn’t want to take the easy way. We came up through Warri Gate and Orientos.” And so it went on. Overland Journal Gear 2011

Clockwise from top left: Do you think it’ll do it? Bearded dragons don't run very fast. Publicans of the Milparincka hotel. Overland Journal Gear 2011

Clockwise from top left: And people think Mad Max characters were fictional. The solitary flat happened on my watch! Mystic place, the Outback. Overland Journal Gear 2011

“What speed did you get it up to on the way here, Ian?” the coppers on crowd control asked. “Only 110 (70 mph) of course,” I replied. “That’s the speed limit, y’know.” They just laughed. We didn’t bother to actually go to the races. I like mine to smell of high octane, not horse, erm, sweat. And we left the crowd getting even more elephants (elephant’s trunk— drunk) at the pub, despite some tempting offers from very inebriated young ladies if I’d take them for a spin in the R8. My PC, conventional and boring side won the day, but hell, it’s easy to see why less morally principled older blokes buy supercars (he says in a suitably pious and self-righteous tone). A mate of mine runs the local Shell servo (service station in Australian), and we took the R8 there to put it on the hoist. Hmm. Those rocks we tried so hard to miss had done a bit of damage: busted cooling fins on the front diff, a few dents on the underbody plate, and a couple of dings in the aluminum sump. Not bad really, after 1,000 miles of torture tracks. We’d done it. The van park had reserved us Overland Journal Gear 2011

some prime real estate right on the edge of Birdsville Billabong (waterhole). With Brahminy kites circling overhead in the last light of day, we sank a couple of quiet ones to celebrate. The R8 was filthy but completely intact, a glowing tribute to German design, technology, and engineering, ach du lieber. It had simply amazed us, performing tasks way outside anything ever envisaged by designers back in Ingolstadt. To cope with everything without anything falling off, electrics (and electronics) all working perfectly, spoke volumes for incredibly high build quality. Strictly speaking, it should have dropped more bits than a nude belly dancer with leprosy (Editor’s note: I infer that’s Australian for ‘a lot’). But there was one more thing we had to do. Big Red (called ‘Napperanica’ by the Aborigines) is the highest sand dune in the Simpson Desert. We were determined to get the R8 to the top. In his specially set-up Red Centre Recovery Land Cruiser ute—heavy duty winch, shovels, everything we’d need if we got really stuck—Dusty Miller, owner of the Birdsville

Bakery (great camel pies—seriously), came out with us to the edge of the Simpson. Importantly, he’d be a witness that we got the R8 up into the dunes. If we got the R8 up into the dunes. Even at 7:30 in the morning, Big Red simply had too much traffic. So we settled for Little Red—almost as high, and on the same ridge. Norm’s turn behind the wheel, and I could see he was psyching himself up. The secret with dune driving is to keep up momentum, but if we went at it at high speed, we’d have very expensive bits of metal flying off— front spoiler first, of course. “I’m not going over 25 kays an hour,” he said, gently pressing down the throttle. How did it go? Perfectly. First go. We even had a play in the sand pit. Again, low-down torque played a big part, and those mega-wide rear wheels we’d been so worried about actually helped maintain flotation. The next challenge? Driving an R8 over Ayers Rock, of course. Or, getting one through Tincup Pass in Colorado. In the middle of winter. During a blizzard. How about it, Audi America?

The R8 was filthy but completely intact,

a glowing tribute

to German design, technology, and engineering, ach du lieber.

Simpson Desert soliloquy. Opposite: On display at the Birdsville Temperance Society’s black-tie cocktail party.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Australia Trip

Route

Cartography by David Medeiros (mapbliss.com)

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Rovers in the Rockies

2011 model year LR4 and Range Rover launch

Tackling high-elevation Colorado backcountry in the latest from Land Rover By Graham Jackson Photography by Gunnar Conrad

Overland Journal Gear 2011

“This thing will override pretty much any stupid thing you do except powering downhill.” Don Floyd

The convoy of LR4s and Range Rovers looking small on Imogene Pass. Opposite: Running boards, fairings, and plastic mud flaps all survived Black Bear with no drama. Overland Journal Gear 2011

Completely stock, the new offerings from Land Rover allowed a luxurious, relaxed, and easy ride over some challenging terrain.

and Rover has a long and illustrious history as a leader in the off-highway market, and arguably created the luxury SUV craze with the 1989 introduction of the Range Rover into North America, and the subsequent highly publicized Great Divide Expedition. Recent Land Rover vehicles have pushed many technological envelopes in the sophistication of their four-wheel drive systems and suspension design, but from an overlanding point of view, the most coveted horse in the Land Rover stable, the Defender, is no longer available in North America. The new iterations of the Discovery (the LR4) and the Range Rover are very different beasts from those used in classic overland adventures such as the Camel Trophy. Of course the main market for Land Rover in the U.S.—at least in terms of profit—is not overlanders, but soccer moms, and their needs are quite different. While the company seems determined to ensure that stellar off-pavement capabilities remain part of its raison d’etre, it must acknowledge that for most North American customers those capabilities are very far down the list of requirements. So it was with great interest that I agreed to attend the 2011 model year LR4 and Range Rover launch in Telluride Colorado in July. I wanted to find out from Land Rover what their intentions were and where they see the market headed. The chance to drive some of the latest technology through the San Juan mountains in the company of Land Rover Experience instructors was not to be missed either.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

There followed a fantastic couple of days being treated like royalty. We transited Imogene, Engineer, and Black Bear Passes, stayed in extraordinary hotels, and ate exquisite food. The LR4s were, quite simply, too good, if that’s possible. Completely stock, they allowed a luxurious, relaxed, and easy ride over some challenging terrain. The only issues we had with any of them were the stock tires on those massive 19-inch rims. With such a short sidewall on the 255/55HR19 rubber, airing down isn’t really an option, and great care must be taken with wheel placement. Of course the diff locks, traction control, hill descent, and all the other electronic aids mean that as long as the undercarriage isn’t firmly grounded on the substrate, forward progress is practically inevitable. Terrain response options are the same as on the LR3 and the previous year Range Rover, but in the LR4 the selector knob is in a far more ergonomic location, allowing faster and easier use. To improve suspension reliability, the air lines have been moved inside the frame, away from intruding debris. Once you get used to the application of the terrain response programs, their full brilliance can shine through. Still a reactive system, albeit incredibly fast, the Land Rover will quietly and confidently eat up terrain my Defender would balk at, all the while allowing an air-conditioned (or heated) level of comfort no Defender could dream of achieving. Articulation is surprisingly efficient, and the vehicles are impressively stable under all conditions; the massive brakes and hill descent making the hard section dropping onto the switchbacks on Black Bear pass a yawn-worthy experience. Well, almost—that view should never be slept through. Would the LR4 or Range Rover make a good long range overland platform? In a technical sense, absolutely, and a couple recently traveled from Egypt to Cape Town in a new Range Rover. For deep desert stuff and very remote tracks, I’d be somewhat concerned with range, but other than the current lack of aftermarket options, such as front end protection, I’d have little hesitation taking the new Solihull offerings around the world.

Reliability, you ask? I don’t ever want to be one of those old fogies who poopoos new technology just because I’m uncomfortable with it. That being said, I think a lot of the resistance to electronics in overland vehicles (and I’m guilty of this), stems from just that feeling. While electronics have a reputation for being difficult to repair and diagnose in the field, really they just require a different set of tools and an understanding of the systems. I asked Sean Gorman, the technical trainer for Land Rover North America, if he thought the resistance to electronics for expedition use was realistic. His answer: Land Rover’s mechanical systems don’t fail any more, and electronic systems are easier to diagnose and fix as long as you have the tools and understand how to do it. Overland Journal Gear 2011

Fine for him to say, right? Well, that challenge has been taken up: Sean will be attending the Overland Expo in April, 2011, to give a presentation on the reliability and repairability of electronic systems in new vehicles. I can’t wait. When I questioned company representatives about diesels in the U.S. (the TDV8 in the new Range Rover gets from 0 to 60 within a tenth of a second of the old supercharged gasoline-engined Range Rover), I was met with a disappointing company tag line: “All options are on the table,” which I take to indicate little interest. On pushing the point I was told that the market needs developing, which I interpret to mean Land Rover is waiting for another company to develop the diesel SUV market in the U.S., rather than taking the lead in this regard. I think this is unfortunate for a company that once lead by creating the SUV market. Time— and rising fuel costs—will tell.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Drivetrain

Engine

2011 Land Rover LR4 Specifications Configuration Displacement Compression ratio

Fuel/Induction

Sequential direct fuel injection

Ignition

Distributorless

Horsepower

375 @ 6,500 rpm

Torque

375 lb.-ft. @ 3,500 rpm

Emissions compliance

ULEV 2

Fuel requirement

Premium

Performance: 0-60 mph

7.5 sec

Fuel Economy (EPA) Transmission

City/highway mpg 12/17. Fuel Capacity 22.8 gal. (86.3 liters) ZF6 HP28 six-speed electronically controlled automatic transmission with CommandShift™ (Normal, Sport and Manual shift modes); locking torque converter Two-speed electronic transfer gearbox; shift-on-the-move capability; electronically controlled, infinitely variable locking center differential. Transfer gear ratio: 2.93 Permanent four-wheel drive with four-wheel Electronic Traction Control (4ETC)

Transfer gearbox Drive system

Dynamic systems include: All-terrain Dynamic Stability Control (DSC), Active Roll Mitigation (ARM), Cornering Brake Control (CBC) and Hill Descent Control (HDC).

Modifies response of engine, transmission, differentials, dynamic systems (DSC, 4ETC, HDC) and air suspension. Multi-mode system to maximize traction and control in a variety of driver-selectable settings: General (optimizing systems for most normal driving conditions), Grass/Gravel/Snow, Mud/Ruts, Sand, Rock Crawl

Chassis/Structure

Integrated body-frame with hydroformed members and advanced high-strength steels, including boron steel in the A and B pillars. Body panels made from double-sided zinc-coated steel and aluminum alloy.

Suspension

4-wheel independent Electronic air suspension with automatic load-leveling and multiple modes: Access, Standard, Off-Road and Extended Height. Terrain sensing software and cross-link valving for improved off-road performance.

Front

Steering

Double wishbone; long-travel variable-rate computer-controlled air springs; gas-filled shock absorbers, anti-roll bar. Vertical wheel travel: 10.0 inches (255 mm) Double-wishbone with long-travel variable rate computer-controlled air springs with cross valving and gas-filled shock absorbers. Vertical wheel travel: 13.0 inches (330 mm) Power-assisted 4-wheel disc with Electronic Brake-force Distribution (EBD), 4-channel all-terrain Anti-lock Braking System (ABS), Emergency Brake Assist (EBA), and electronic parking brake. Speed-sensitive power-assisted rack-and-pinion

Turning circle

37.6 ft.

Wheels

19 x 8 in. aluminum alloy (20-in. available)

Tires

255/55R-19 performance all-season

Wheelbase

113.6 in. (2,885 mm)

Length/Width/Height

190.1 in. (4,829 mm)/ With mirrors: 85.7 in. (2,176 mm), With mirrors folded: 75.4 in. (1,915 mm)/74.1 in. (1,882 mm)

Track (front/rear)

63.2/63.5 in. (1,605/1,613 mm)

Min. ground clearance

Standard mode: 7.3 in. (185 mm), Off-road mode: 9.4 in. (240 mm)

Angle of approach

32.2-37.2 deg. (range with EAS in Standard and Off-Road modes)

Angle of departure

26.7-29.6 deg. (range with EAS in Standard and Off-Road modes)

Ramp breakover angle

22.8-29.9 deg. (range with EAS in Standard and Off-Road modes)

Max. wading depth

27.6 in. (700 mm) (Off-Road mode)

Ascent/descent

45/40 deg. drive-through, 35/35 deg. continuous

Curb weight

5,833 lbs. (2,646 kg)

Max. payload

1,325 lbs. (601 kg)

Max roof-rack load

165 lbs.

Towing capacity

Braked trailer: 7,143 lbs., Unbraked trailer: 1,653 lbs.

Seating capacity

5 or 7

Max. loadspace length

76.8 in. (1,950 mm)

Width between wheel housings

45.1 in. (1,146 mm)

Max. cargo area width

48.6 in. (1,235 mm)

Rear Brakes

Exterior Dimensions

11.5:1

Chain-driven double overhead camshafts, four valves per cylinder, torque-activated Variable Camshaft Timing (VCT)

Terrain Response™

Interior Dimensions

5,000 cc / 305 cu. in.

Valvetrain

Dynamic control systems

90-degree V8, aluminum-alloy cylinder block and heads

Cargo volume Overland Journal Gear 2011

Behind 3rd row: 9.9 cu. ft. (280 liters). Behind 2nd row: 33.8 cu. ft. (958 liters). All seats folded: 90.3 cu. ft. (2,557 liters)

A Royal Tour Exploring the North Rim’s back roads on a Royal Enfield

The editor visits some untouristed corners of the Grand Canyon on our long-term alternative-adventure motorcycle. By Jonathan Hanson

Overland Journal Gear 2011

“On that?” The ranger in the North Rim Ranger Station stopped filling in my backcountry camping permit and gestured out the window with his pen, where the green and gold Royal Enfield Bullet 500 sat, dusty, loaded down with panniers and duffel bags, waiting to tackle the 17-mile trail to Point Sublime. “You do know it’s a four-wheel-drive route?” I assured him I did, and explained where I’d already been and was headed on several remote roads along the Grand Canyon’s North Rim. One eyebrow arched toward his hairline, and he said, “Well . . . you obviously know what you’re doing.” He was gaining points rapidly. “But . . . isn’t that a Harley or something?” He was losing points rapidly.

100

I was here to continue my experiment to determine whether or not Royal Enfield’s slightly modernized, fuel-injected, developedworld-friendly Bullet motorcycle could handle the same kinds of conditions its much more basic cousins have for decades in India and various outlying Himalayan countries. Compared to, say, Guarav Jani’s subcontinental excursions on a massively overloaded, carbureted 350cc Bullet at elevations up to 18,000 feet, a vacation ride around the North Rim of the Grand Canyon at barely 9,000 feet was a walk in the park. Nevertheless, the EFI Bullet was an unknown quantity for this sort of thing. Also an unknown quantity to the vast majority of visitors to the Grand Canyon is the fact that 99 percent of those visitors cluster in tightly defined and carefully Disneyfied areas of the park. The South Rim’s Grand Canyon Village might be overrun with tourists in minivans who stop, videotape, yell at the kids, buy a jackalope postcard and an officially licensed snowglobe, and leave just as the next 10 minivans pull in, but there are other spots right on the rim where you’re alone with creation, where the silence from the depths rises up and surrounds you like a palpable thing, where the immensity of distance and time confirms that the Grand Canyon takes second place to no natural wonder on earth. My first thought when contemplating the trip was to do a complete circumnavigation of Grand Canyon National Park. But after Overland Journal Gear 2011

perusing map and memory and doing some research, I concluded there was little reason for someone seeking solitude to bother with the South Rim. Not so much because of the heavily developed complex extending left and right of Grand Canyon Village; rather because most of the land to the west belongs to the Hualapai and Havasupai Indians and is unamenable to casual exploration and backcountry camping. I did—briefly—consider riding to the (in)famous Skywalk, the transparent walkway built by the Hualapai tribe that arches out over the abyss, just so I could say, “Done that.” However, investigation revealed that the combination of reservation entrance fee and Skywalk ticket would total over $75, after which I’d be prohibited from taking photos while on the bridge. Say what? The clincher was intelligence from a friend revealing that a good percentage of Skywalk clientele comprises Las Vegas tourists out on day flights between coffee-and-cigarette slotmachine breakfasts and Elvis-impersonator dinner shows. No thanks. Instead I decided to do a sweep of the North Rim, starting in the east along Marble Canyon, the gorge downstream from Glen Canyon Dam and upstream from the park. I’d explored here before in my Land Cruiser, and Roseann and I had hiked down an unnamed slot canyon in an attempt to reach the river, but I was unfamiliar with the area from the

perspective of a motorcycle seat, which always makes a familiar road seem like a new one. Those who’ve learned just a bit about the Grand Canyon’s geologic history usually have it upside down. We tend to think of the river as cutting down through those thousands of feet of rock layers, which of course it did. However, what really happened was that the rock—in fact the entire Colorado Plateau, which sits on the North American Plate’s little section of the earth’s crust—rose around the river, pushed upward as the heavier Pacific Plate forced its way under its North American neighbor. As the land around it rose inch by inch, the river cut its way down inch by inch, through all the ages of the earth as laid bare by the banded formations at which we now gasp: the top layer of Kaibab Limestone, a mere 250 million years old and the former bed of a shallow sea littered with fossils of coral, crinoids, sharks, and sponges; down through the Toroweap Formation; Coconino Sandstone; Hermit Shale; the Supai Group (we’re back to 300 million years ago now); then Redwall Limestone; Mauve Limestone; Bright Angel Shale and Tapeats Sandstone (back to a half-billion years or so); and finally to the river-level Vishnu Schist, a 1.7-billion-year-old layer of pressure-cooked metamorphic rock formed when visiting alien biologists would have needed microscopes to see our most advanced ancestors.

But there’s another facet to the upsidedown bit about the canyon’s history. Look closely at a map of the Grand Canyon and you might notice something odd: Many of the Colorado River’s tributaries (especially in the Marble Canyon region) seem to hit the main channel at the wrong angle, pointing upstream rather than down, so that their outflow has to take a sharp turn to merge with the Colorado’s path toward the Sea of Cortez. Only within the last few decades did geologists smack their foreheads and figure out the reason for this: Up to around five million years ago or thereabouts, the river running across what is now northern Arizona actually flowed in the opposite direction, into present-day Utah and out into the Pacific Ocean. At some point around then, another river cutting its way backward into the San Andreas Fault captured the ancestral Colorado, and reversed its course. (Imagine what a speeded up video of that would look like.) Geologists now speculate that the Colorado, and other rivers in the region, might in fact have reversed their courses numerous times over the eons as their underlying tectonic plates heaved and shifted, and mountain ranges rose and fell. (Another Grand Canyon theory involves an enormous inland lake called Bidahochi which might have captured the river until the drainage was cut through. The astonishing thing is not that there’s still some speculation going on, but that geologists can figure out anything of what was happening here millions of years ago.) After checking from the Navajo Bridge on Highway 89 to make sure the Colorado was running in the direction I’ve come to expect, I pulled in at Cliff Dwellers Lodge, built in the shadow of the second-most spectacular natural wonder in this area: the Vermilion Cliffs— the name of which describes them with such utter succinctness that attempts at literary embroidery would be superfluous. Cliff Dwellers began as a tiny trading post in 1920, expanded to a lodge in the 1940s, and has been in business ever since. It’s now owned by Terry and Wendy Gunn, who also run the Lee’s Ferry Anglers guide service—and just happen to be Overland Journal subscribers. The lodge still retains the original block of guest rooms, in addition to a more modern addition. Take your pick—but after seeing photos from the 1950s of the old rooms looking exactly the way they still do, I suspect you’ll opt for the more rustic wing. In either case, you’ll want to set aside all your expectations of what kind of food to expect from a lodge dining

room with an essentially captive clientele, and book a table for dinner. If there’s a restaurant farther away from anything else that serves better cuisine, I haven’t found it. The next morning I loaded up the Andy Strapz panniers and Wolfman duffel on the Royal Enfield, and picked at random one of the dirt roads heading south from the highway that my map showed wandering across the plateau before ending abruptly at a dense cluster of elevation contour lines. House Rock Valley, between the Vermilion Cliffs and the Marble Canyon gorge,

is country of more sky than earth. The land is so flat that one’s view from a motorcycle, five feet off the ground, comprises just three elements: a long triangle of perspectively retreating road, two flanking triangles of gray/ green sage, and an enormous blue canopy of atmosphere, God’s fisheye lens inverted over one’s head. It’s a huge and lung-expanding tableau that could have been created for no other reason than to lure a motorcycle toward the horizon; with every mile you can feel your blood pressure dropping and endorphin level soaring.

101

Riding toward the Vermilion Cliffs

Overland Journal Gear 2011

. . . with every mile you can feel your

blood pressure dropping and

endorphin level soaring.

102

Sleepwalking not recommended. Overland Journal 2011 Near Buck Farm Gear Point.

Soon the road I had chosen—lacking a name or even a land-agency number on my map—began to twist and turn for no discernible reason, as though the builder had simply decided it was time to liven things up with the bulldozer. The track narrowed; the sage now took up most of the earthly view. Then there was a faint horizontal break in the vegetation, a couple of boulders dropped haphazardly right in the middle of the trail—what’s up with that?—and in the space of a squeeze on the front brake and a foot-tap on the rear, the track disappeared at a stone lip and I was looking at the Colorado River a fifth of a mile straight down. If you’ve ever experienced the Grand Canyon via ‘normal’ channels—a paved drive to a big parking lot, a walk past or through gift shops and visitors’ centers, and a final stroll across a flagstone veranda to a walled and guard-railed overlook—you were no doubt awed and humbled. The canyon defies the banality of our puny capitalistic endeavors on its margins. But the trails around Marble Canyon catapult you into a new universe of thrill. There are no interpretive kiosks, no gift shops, no other humans to blunt the effect— and it’s as if the genetic predecessors of lawyers willing to sue public land agencies over the stupidity of public land visitors had died off with the trilobites in the Kaibab Limestone. It’s entirely up to you to keep in mind there’s a large piece of the landscape nearby that is simply missing. Lose your concentration and gaze around for too long on some of these trails, and you could find yourself riding straight over the edge, facing a very severe test of your bike’s suspension about 1,000 feet down. Pulling up short and walking to the lip doesn’t induce wonder: hyperventilation and stomach-twisting vertigo are more likely. And it doesn’t dim with repetition. I spent the day skirting the edge of the canyon on a web of roads and trails, and each encounter with the rim was as thrilling as the last. At one I watched a pair of ravens for a half hour as they repeatedly strafed the edge from six or seven feet above the sage and soared out over the abyss, only to circle back and do it again and again, just for fun (if you don’t think ravens understand the concept of ‘fun’ just go to YouTube and search for “ravens sliding in snow”). At another I spotted a brace of rafts in the river, each a millimeter long, and watched as they bounced down a mild rapid before floating out of sight. Overland Journal Gear 2011

103

Night caught me away from the rim, so I set up camp in the middle of the vast expanse of sage, with that fish-eye lens overhead now cascading stars, the giant desert-appropriate constellation of Scorpius high in the south. A breeze played through the shrubs, and quite naturally the old Dick Charles song popped into my head: I love to lie and listen to the music When the wind is strummin’ a sagebrush guitar While over yonder hill the moon is risin’ It always finds me wishin’ on a star The next morning I headed west on 89, then south on the dirt FS 8910—also known as Buffalo Ranch Road for the small herd of bison transplanted to the area decades ago. A few miles later I passed the place I would live in preference to any other spot on earth: Kane Ranch. I won’t describe it; you just have to go see if you agree with me. Now owned by the Grand Canyon Trust, I wait for the day the little stone cabin will be open to visitors, so I can stand on the porch and look out over the entire House Rock Valley toward the Vermilion Cliffs to the north and the Echo Cliffs far off to the east, and at least pretend I live there. Twenty miles or so south, I turned left toward the gorge and parked the bike at a clearing south of Buck Farm Point. The river here carved out a series of giant loops, and 104

numerous ravines and promontories overlap the view, with just glimpses here and there of coruscating green water still carving its patient way down through the rock. At one spot I found I could semi-slide down a cleft to a little flat outcropping surrounded on three sides by nothing—an inspiring campsite for anyone not prone to sleepwalking. At sunset, some sort of differential-heating-canyonchanneling effect spawned an intermittent wind that would moan away down-slope like a lost soul, then come roaring back and arch over my little promontory with a banshee wail and flatten the burro weed. In defense I pitched the Hilleberg Soulo tent I had along, and was grateful for its sturdy three-pole design and spiderweb of tie-out points. Dinner comprised a couple of quesadillas warmed on a stove inside the vestibule, and a dozen or so Pepperidge Farm cookies. Perfect. Despite the wailing banshees, I slept dreamlessly until . . . Well whatta ya know, it’s mornin’ already There’s a dawnin’, so silver and pale It’s time to climb into my saddle And ride the Navajo Trail I was beginning to think Dick Charles might have toured the North Rim by motorcycle . . . Turning the bike back westward aimed

me at the 3,000-foot escarpment climbing to the immense Kaibab Plateau, which puts the North Rim visitor’s center a half-mile higher than the South Rim’s, just 10 airline miles away but separated by a chasm now a mile deep. We can only surmise the reaction of the first human to see the Grand Canyon, sometime around 12,000 years ago, as he was fulfilling his generation’s role in mankind’s great southward diaspora from the Bering Land Bridge to Tierra del Fuego. Was he as astounded as modern travelers, or did he look over the edge with disgust, arms akimbo, and say to his companions, “We’ll never colonize South America at this rate!” We do know that humans have lived in and around the Grand Canyon for at least 4,000 years, as shown by the carbon-dated twig figurines left in caves beneath the rim by the Desert Culture. The figurines are graceful and immediately recognizable representations of mule deer and bighorn sheep, formed from single split willow or sumac sticks folded origami-like into dolls a few inches long. First discovered (astonishingly well-preserved by the dry climate) by Civilian Conservation Corps workers building trails in the 1930s, over 300 have since been recorded—in 1967 river runners found four near-perfect examples in Stanton Cave, and a subsequent dig produced 74. Some figurines appear to have been ritualistic in nature (although archaeologists always seem to attach ritualistic import to these things); others were clearly no more than toys, as evidenced by their casual disposal in middens. Some have little spear-like twigs stuck through the chest area—a goodluck hunting charm, or just boys playing before they had magnifying glasses with which to fry ants? The early, so-called ‘Basketmaker’ Anazazi apparently grew out of the Desert Culture, and began to erect mud-and-stone dwellings around 800 A.D., by which time they were also farming maize. Within the borders of Grand Canyon National Park there are over 2,000 known Anazazi sites. However, around 1300 what we believe was a severe drought forced the Anazazi out permanently. In 1540, García López de Cárdenas, one of Francisco Coronado’s officers, became the first European to see the Grand Canyon, although he’d rather been hoping for the Seven Cities of Cibola

Looking toward the Dragon and Dragon Head. Opposite: A tarantula checks out my camp. Overland Journal Gear 2011

105

Overland Journal Gear 2011

106

On the trail to Fire Point.

and their rumored heaps of gold instead. The sighting certainly failed to ignite canyon fever in the Spanish, as it was another 200 years before two priests became the second European party to reach the rim. Trappers probably skirted the canyon starting in the 1820s, and in 1858 Jacob Hamblin, on a mission from Brigham Young, discovered Lee’s Ferry, one of only two relatively convenient crossing points for Mormon pioneers on the way to or from Utah. In 1869 and 1871 John Wesley Powell made his famous Overland Journal Gear 2011

boat trips through the Grand Canyon; the second one resulted in a huge collection of photographs, artifacts, and notes about the canyon’s flora, fauna, and geology. It shouldn’t be considered flippant to be relieved that one of the next canyon explorers, Frank Brown, drowned in 1889 shortly after his party set out in Marble Canyon in six boats. Brown’s goal was to survey a route for a river-level railroad he envisioned for carrying coal from Colorado all the way to a port on the Sea of Cortez.

Tourism to the Grand Canyon exploded in 1901 when a Santa Fe Railroad line was built from near Flagstaff, Arizona, to the South Rim (you can take this rejuvenated ride today, and it’s a lovely trip if you’re willing to laugh along with the slightly corny fake holdup halfway through the journey). Just one year after the railroad the first minivan, I mean automobile, reached Grand Canyon Village—and by some reckoning it’s been downhill ever since. But not where I was this morning. My eye had caught a road on my map, labelled FS220, that appeared to ascend more or less straight up the escarpment to the Kaibab Plateau along the intriguingly named Tater Ridge, at the top of which it joined the paved North Rim Parkway. Successfully climbing that would eliminate backtracking to Highway 89, and take me through country I hadn’t seen. I turned off where the road followed the edge of the Saddle Mountain Wilderness Area, and for a time had easy going. Then the trail got narrower and began a series of steep switchbacks—not a problem in itself, except the surface also began to deteriorate quickly. Where there had been dirt and gravel, increasingly the way was rutted and edged with jagged rocks impossible to avoid completely. Unfortunately the Royal Enfield was still on its original equipment Avon street tires—a mountain-bike-width 3.5 x 19 in the rear. I had spare tubes and a patch kit, but as I maneuvered the bike through washouts and balanced it along ridges, whatever dirt had been in the road disappeared more or less completely, leaving only the jagged rocks. After five or six wince-inducing sidewall pinches against the substrate, it became apparent that spare tubes would do me little good—much more of this would simply shred the tires. So, reluctantly, I turned around. Since I was backtracking anyway, I took a short detour to the House Rock Wildlife Area headquarters and had a chat with the biologist in residence there, who was entranced with the Royal Enfield and told me she was the past owner of a BMW R80GS, on which she had explored much of northern Arizona. Then she said, “By the way, whatever you do don’t try to ride up FS220 to the plateau. It’s all torn up. My boyfriend drove up there in his Jeep last month and blew out two tires.” Good advice. The ride up the winding paved road to the plateau provided its own joy. I hustled the Bul-

Then the trail got narrower and began a series of

steep switchbacks—not a problem in itself, except the surface also began to let along at a brisk pace which, admittedly, any 18-year-old on a CBR600 would have found laughable—but ‘brisk’ is a relative, not an absolute, term, so I couldn’t have cared less. Plus, I actually passed a group of a half-dozen Harleys, the riders of which were attired in headscarves, jeans, Frye Engineer boots, and suspiciously glossy studded leather jackets, at least several of which, I strongly suspected, concealed glossy iPhone 4s. Sonny Barger would have traded his Sportster for a Honda Cub had he foreseen the future of motorcycle ‘gangs.’ At Jacob Lake I spontaneously decided a night in a cabin would be fun, and checked into the Jacob Lake Inn, a family-owned institution on the North Rim since 1923. Although a two-story hotel addition blunts the romance of the compound, the separate cabins retain the proper woodsy feel. The last time I’d stayed here was with Roseann, just before a cross-country skiing trip to the rim during which our guide got us hopelessly lost in a blizzard on the way to Cape Royal, and we found our way back to camp only by skirting the edge of the gorge in 20-foot visibility. Next morning in the restaurant I passed the Harley gang having breakfast. One of them was talking on an iPhone—but, to be honest, I couldn’t tell if it was a 4. Later I found them clustered around the Royal Enfield, scratching their headscarves. “What year is that?” one of them asked (a common question). They were amazed to hear it was current production. A couple of hours later, backcountry camping permit in hand, I was on that ‘fourwheel-drive’ trail to Point Sublime. To be

deteriorate quickly.

honest, it wasn’t a very difficult ride—again my chief worry was the street tires with their shallow 1970s-replica tread. But the advantages of the Royal Enfield’s low seat height were clear in this situation, since as I picked my way slowly around rocks and across washouts it was easy to dab a boot if needed to maintain balance, rather than having to either ride through it or fall over, as would have been the case had I been on a conventional adventure motorcycle with a nose-bleed seat height. Yes, there were a couple of spots where the Bullet’s low and ridiculously long catalystequipped exhaust pipe whanged painfully on rocks, but no damage came of it. Otherwise, the single-cylinder 500cc engine with its modest horsepower but effortless torque was happy to chug up loose grades at what felt like about 200 rpm. I found myself wondering, not for the last time, what a simple high pipe and a set of knobbies would do to the Bullet’s backroad performance. After all, 40 years ago a British street bike with a high pipe and a set of knobbies was an adventure motorcycle. Point Sublime (another self-encapsulating name) is not as unpeopled as other North Rim overlooks—there’s actually an easier route to access it from north of the National Park boundary, and the campsite boasts tables and a clean and odorless solar-powered composting bathroom—but it’s right out in the full-on, 10-mile-wide-one-mile-deep Grand Canyon, its splendor only slightly blunted by the faint clatter of helicopters shuttling between the North and South Rim tourist centers 10 miles to the east. Only two other vehicles showed up the day I got there—a nicely augmented Jeep Wrangler and a Toyota Tacoma—and

they left before sunset, so I had the place to myself all night. By now I had convinced myself the Royal Enfield was up to the task of serving as a unique, mild-mannered adventure motorcycle, capable of negotiating moderate trails while attaining 75 mpg on two-lane highways. I still had several places I wanted to reach on my way across the North Rim—Swamp Point, Fire Point, and Jumpup Point—but I’d already met my goals, and was feeling delighted the next morning as I loaded up the bike once more. The rest of my exploration of the North Rim’s backcountry would be pure fun. I heard the sound of an engine, and watched as a Toyota RAV4 pulled into the culde-sac at the end of the trail. I walked over to say hi to the couple inside, who looked a bit spooked. “We came out the Point Sublime Trail,” the fellow said, “We weren’t sure we’d make it. We’re not really used to this sort of thing.” I mentioned the easier road out, to the north, and showed them the route on their map, at which they visibly relaxed. Then the fellow noticed the motorcycle parked some way off. He said, “Did you come out here on that?” I allowed as to how I had. “But . . . isn’t that a Harley or something?”

RESOURCES

enfieldmotorcycles.com, 800-201-7472 cliffdwellerslodge.com, 800-962-9755 nps.gov/grca, 928-638-7888 jacoblake.com, 928-643-7232

Overland Journal Gear 2011

107

North Rim Trip

Route

Cartography by David Medeiros (mapbliss.com)

108

Overland Journal Gear 2011

109

Overland Journal Gear 2011

110

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Heart of a Range Rover Building a Range Rover Classic for reliable, economical expedition travel

111

A family road-trip in the desert leads to a long-term fascination with Solihull metal. By Graham Jackson Photos by Graham Jackson and Freya Jackson Overland Journal Gear 2011

112

Overland Journal Gear 2011

The year was 1982, and my parents packed up my sister and me in the car and headed north. It was a typical family road-trip vacation to my knowledge at the time, and it would be many years before I found out it could be done any differently. Leaving the city by the major highway, we motored north and west, watching for speed traps and smelling acrid smoke from continual grass burns on the verge. Eventually we left the highway and moved to secondary roads as we approached the border. North of the line, the roads degraded until, at a small town called Molepolole, we hit dirt and, after a very cold night camping by the side of the road, set off into the Kalahari Desert. Moving north on dirt tracks, with little to no traffic other than donkey carts and the odd cow, we reached the vet fence that bisects the Kalahari (supposedly to prevent the spread of disease from wildlife to livestock), and were witness to what has been estimated at 50,000 wildebeest dying along the fence line, something that has had a significant and lasting impact on me. We camped on the shores of Lake Xau before turning slightly west towards Maun and the Boteti river. On a dusty desert track the question of our position was raised by my mother, to which my father indicated we just had to travel north to the river. The compass was on top of the transmission, its needle making lazy circles rather than indicating any specific direction. Tensions got higher, but eventually the river revealed itself and we camped on its shores, our sleeping bags tucked inside dog-repellent trash bags to ward off roaming crocodiles. (Still not sure if that one works, though I still have feet.) Finally we reached the end goal of the trip, after we passed Maun—the Moremi Game Reserve. Back in those days there were no established camps, and visitors could camp where they found a spot. There were no fences, so wildlife was quite free to investigate

you at any time. We had no roof-top tent, but rather slept under an awning guyed out from the side of the car, a small fire kept alight all night to ward off large cats and hyenas. Unfortunately elephants didn’t seem to mind the fire, and would pull the guy lines out of the ground as they ambled past, dropping the whole caboodle on our fast-waking forms. Leaving Moremi after several days, we started south across the enormous Makgadikgaki Pan, raising a wake of white dust behind us. At one point, parked for lunch next to a large baobab, my sister and I etched ‘MMBA’ in the dust on the back window of the car: ‘miles and miles of bloody Africa,’ now established as the tag line for the trip. Which brings me to the vehicle we were in and the reason for this whole story. It was a 1973 two-door Range Rover, in Maasai Red, powered by a 3.5L V8 and manual transmission, with minimal interior appointments (since none were available in that year). To a boy of 10, as I was at the time, the Range Rover was awe-inspiring. The many miles of rough roads, the soft sand of the desert, the massive load of fuel and equipment we carried, and not a single problem apart from punctures. I was already a Land Rover fan, but that trip galvanized my appreciation for the marque, something that has not waned since. I refined my taste from the Range Rover to the Defender, but have always had a hankering for the old Rangie. Of course, my idea of the Range Rover is not typical. Not a mall crawler, not a luxury vehicle, not what Land Rover North America sells, but rather a tough, capable, and comfortable expedition platform. And that is what this build is all about—getting back to the heart of the Range Rover. Over the course of several articles I’ll explore what it takes to turn a luxury SUV into my idea of the perfect mid-range overlander.

Goals So first to establish some goals. I’m a big believer in diesels for expedition use, both for reliability and for economy, which translates to range. I’m also leery of too many electronic systems, especially in older vehicles, as that seems to be where problems first crop up. Luxury appointments usually add more weight than luxury, and keeping an expedition truck as light as possible should be a primary goal. At the end of this project I hope to have a reliable, competent vehicle that is comfortable, simple to work on, and doesn’t break the bank during the build. The truck for the project was very kindly donated by Land Rover Las Vegas. It’s a 1995 short-wheelbase Range Rover Classic, the very

last of the classic line. Certainly not the same as the two-door we had in Africa, but a direct descendant. From the factory it came Epsom green, with leather seats, sunroof, air suspension, automatic transmission (as with all North American Specification Range Rovers), Borg Warner transfer case with viscous center differential, and the 3.9-liter version of the Rover V8. It spent years under the Nevada sun, so the clear coat is ruined and the paint faded. The two front seats were torn and stained, and the electronic adjusters had failed. Desecrating the load bay was a massive home-made structure containing two 22-inch sub-woofers and two amplifiers, the sort of thing you might expect at an impromptu rap concert in an alley. Overland Journal Gear 2011

113

Objectives for stage one of the build

• Remove the rap equipment and rat's nest of associated wiring • Replace the electric leather seats with cloth manual seats sourced from a Range Rover Hunter • Replace the gas V8 with a Land Rover 300tdi four-cylinder turbodiesel • Replace the automatic transmission with a Land Rover R380 five-speed manual • Replace the Borg Warner transfer case with an LT230 with locking center differential • Replace the prop shafts • Remove the ABS system • Replace the air suspension with coil springs and a moderate lift • Remove the anti-sway bars • Replace the alloy wheels with Land Rover Wolf steel wheels

Why a Range Rover

The choice of a 1995 Range Rover was far from arbitrary. That model year has several distinct advantages with regards to this project. To start with, the bulkhead and dashboard closely match the Land Rover Discovery Series I, so some parts are interchangeable across the two models. The 300tdi 2.5-liter diesel was offered in European versions of the Range Rover, and I already had a full 300tdi drivetrain. 1996 saw the entry of OBDII requirements for US emissions, so 1995 will be the last easy model year to get a diesel transplant emissions-certified without catalytic converters and OBDII sensor requirements.

Diesel conversion 114

Embarking on a diesel conversion should not be taken lightly. So often conversions end up causing more problems than they solve, as vehicle systems are disabled and engines end up with inadequate cooling or electronic support. A good way to mitigate these issues is to install a drivetrain that was offered in the model by the manufacturer—that way factory components fit, and both electrical and mechanical systems match. Since the 300tdi was offered in the European 1995 Range Rover, engine placement is easy, although it requires welding new engine mounts on the frame and installing a new frame cross member with the appropriate manual transmission mounts. I’m very lucky to count Keith Kreutzer from RoverTracks as a good friend, someone willing to allow me to park the Range Rover at his house for the duration of the drivetrain transplant. Truth be told, we think we could complete it in one weekend if all the parts were on hand. But don’t ask Keith to put a diesel in your Land Rover; he’ll help you, but he’s not a conversion shop.

transfer case are too long for the LT230 case, so I got custom shafts from Tom Woods, including a double cardon for the front shaft to deal with vibrations after the suspension lift, and a U-joint conversion for the rear pinion, where Land Rover had the troublesome rotoflex.

Electronics

The electronics for the engine conversion take some work. All the engine management electronics, including the ECU go away. The new engine harness is made up of exactly six wires: starter solenoid, oil pressure, temperature, alternator, tachometer, and the ignition coil wire (which becomes the fuel solenoid wire on the diesel). For the transmission, the reverse lights have to be separated from the transmission harness and run to the correct position on the R380. The wires for the park/neutral position switch have to be connected so that the car will start, since on an automatic starting is disallowed if the transmission is in any position other than neutral or park. We pulled all the other wires on the engine harness except the air conditioner switch and a few power lines, which will be used for accessories later. After the conversion Keith was able to source a 300tdi air conditioning kit, which included the compressor, idler, adjuster and the belt. All have been added to the engine, but the lines have not been completed yet.

Fuel

On the fuel side, the electric fuel pump has to be removed from the tank, and a longer pickup line installed. Then it’s just a matter of making sure that the supply line and return line are hooked up correctly on the injection pump. After getting the drivetrain in, it was just a matter of completing the inside with the center console and shifter boots, and tying up a few loose ends, such as eliminating the alarms and interlocks for the Borg Warner transfer case and the automatic transmission. Replacing the seats with cloth versions sourced from RoverDude was a straight swap.

Suspension

The air suspension had already been replaced with Land Rover factory springs when I got the truck, but I went one step further and installed an Old Man Emu kit from ARB. The medium-duty Range Rover

Conversion mechanics

The mechanics of the conversion are easy. The pedal assembly, including the clutch master cylinder, swaps directly from a Discovery. We removed the Wabco ABS pump, a problematic and expensive system on the 1995 Range Rover, and went back to regular power-assist brakes from a 1989 Range Rover. This eliminated both ABS and traction control. The transmission and transfer case dropped right in with the correct crossmember and factory diesel mounts, which are very important for vibration isolation. The propeller shafts from the Borg Warner Overland Journal Gear 2011

The Range Rover today after stage one of the build.

k 1. ARB suspension with medium duty springs was the first overland modification. 2. Keith working on the engine mounts. 3. The interior of the Range Rover Classic as delivered. 4. Interior after diesel, manual transmission, and seat conversion; some trim not yet in place. 5. The factory-fitted 3.9-liter V8. 6. The 300tdi after installation. 7. Tracing electrics can be the most time-consuming job. 8. Engine wiring is much simpler for the diesel.

springs and the new Nitrocharger Sport shocks installed easily, and give a firm ride and a two-and-a-half-inch lift with the truck in its current light state. Jeff Corwin of JC’s Rovers in Denver supplied me with a couple of pre-air-suspension shock towers for the front. Once other accessories have been added, I’ll revisit the suspension and make sure it matches the load and sits level.

Stage one result

So now I have a turbodiesel, manual-transmission Range Rover in mostly stock form. There are a few details left on the conversion, and then the modifications for expedition work. Will I take this Range Rover through Botswana? No, probably not, but, as Land Rover would like everyone to believe, I could.

115

RESOURCES

Land Rover Las Vegas: lrlv.com, 702-579-0400 RoverTracks: rovertracks.com, 303-506-9429 ARB: arbusa.com, 866-293-9083 RoverDude: roverdude.com, 714-719-7123 Columbia Overland: columbiaoverland.com, 541-728-0625 JC’s Rover & 4x4: jcrover4x4.com, 720-227-9118 Equipt: equipt1.com, 866-703-1026 rangerovers.net/modelspecs/1995.html Overland Journal Gear 2011

In Colorado, We Stay the Trail

116

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Free downloadable OHV maps available online.

www.staythetrail.org

CLASSIC KIT

Brian DeArmon

Coffee

An overlanding fuel as essential as 87-octane unleaded or #2 diesel

117

From the history to the brew, we’ll have you convinced, it’s not just coffee. Overland Journal Gear 2011

nterest in coffee has seen a resurgence in the last decade. Blame it on Starbucks, for better or worse. Non-coffee-geeks roll their eyes and snort, “It’s just coffee!” while yuppies order venti skinny iced peppermint white chocolate mochas with extra whip. Yes, Starbucks will make that for you. Okay—technically it is just coffee, but why does it have such a draw? And why do I find myself making coffee more often than my girlfriend when we’re camping, even though she craves her morning coffee more than I do? Simple—it’s not just coffee.

118

History

Beans

Nobody really knows when, where, or how coffee was discovered, but legend has it that a young Abyssinian goat herder named Kaldi went to investigate why his goats failed to heed his call one morning. He found them joyously bleating and dancing on their hind legs. He was certain they were driven mad by poison from the red berries they were eating, but the following day, still very much alive, the goats returned to the same spot, ate the same red berries, and once again started dancing. Now convinced the berries were not poisonous, Kaldi ate some himself, and soon found out why the goats were dancing. And so coffee (or bunn, as it was called) was discovered. Coffee remained in the African highlands until the 6th century, when Ethiopia invaded and ruled Yemen for a short time, giving coffee a foothold in the Arabic world. At first it was adopted by monks as an aid to staying awake for midnight prayers, but soon it fell into common use, although neither cultivation or consumption migrated on a large scale for another 1,000 years. Finally, in the 17th century, the invigorating drink reached Europe. Cultivation was still closely guarded in Arabia and Africa, essentially controlling the global coffee supply, but eventually seeds were smuggled out of Arabia to India, and shortly thereafter the plant reached Holland. From then, coffee consumption and cultivation spread more quickly—consumption to North America, cultivation to Malaysia, Indonesia, Martinique, Central and South America, and Hawaii. During the 19th and 20th centuries, thriving coffee plantations in Brazil drove down the cost of coffee, making it affordable to virtually everyone, including the working class. Unfortunately, quality followed the price. Most of the beans were harvested mechanically, which by nature is indiscriminate. Both ripe and non-ripe beans were collected, degrading the overall quality. By then coffee was so ingrained in everyday life that it was simply accepted. But as the late-20th-century economy grew and disposable income increased, the specialty coffee market took off. Businesses raced to broaden their market share through specialty coffee drinks that appealed to the masses (venti skinny iced peppermint mochas, etc. )—and through higher-quality coffee. That higher quality, combined with the desire to create something enjoyable (with almost instant gratification) is what gets us out of our tent on those chilly mornings. There’s something about cranking away on the Turkish mill and watching the sun rise over the mountains, while someone feigns sleep until her coffee is ready (it’s okay, honey, I don’t mind).

There are two dominant types of coffee beans on the market: Arabica and Robusta. Generally speaking, Arabica is higher quality, with a correspondingly higher price. Arabica beans grow at higher (steeper) elevations where mechanical harvesting is difficult or impossible, so are typically harvested by hand, helping to ensure only ripe beans are harvested. Robusta beans grow well at lower elevations, are hardier and less prone to disease and pests, and have a higher yield. Combine this with mechanical harvesting methods and it becomes clear why Robusta beans are favored by mass markets. The downside is they don’t have the rich flavor of Arabica beans. Most whole bean coffee in coffee shops and specialty sections of grocery stores are Arabica beans. Mass-produced, pre-ground coffee is largely Robusta. Check the package to see what you are getting.

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Roasting Some people claim coffee-roasting is 90 percent black magic. I wouldn’t go that far, but it is an incredibly complex process that some people spend their entire lives mastering. I suspect most overland travelers, myself included, aren’t roasting their beans while on the road, so I’ll keep this simple. Lighter roasts tend to highlight more delicate and sweeter flavors and have less body than darker roasts. Medium roasts feature increased acidity and body, and thus bolder flavor. Darker roasts can lose the more delicate flavors, but produce full-bodied coffee. Since this is all about what you like, pick your favorite and go with it.

Storage Once coffee is roasted, it starts going stale almost immediately. Nothing will stop this process—all you can do is slow it down in an attempt to get one more cup before it’s completely devoid of soul. Consider yourself lucky if you get two to three weeks from the time of roast until the remaining coffee turns into muck that only a sailor coming off the mid-watch would find palatable. As important as it is, proper coffee storage is still an elusive target. Considering the environmental conditions encountered on long trips into remote locations, it becomes downright challenging. Oxidation is the main culprit. It’s a self-feeding process that can render the freshest of coffee completely flat in a week or two. The only way to combat this is to completely remove the coffee from oxygen. Storing your coffee in an air-tight container will help, but every time you open

119

Overland Journal Gear 2011

that container you’re introducing fresh oxygen. As such, multiple small containers are better than one large container. A couple weeks worth of coffee in a single container is reasonable, but any more than that and you greatly increase the risk of stale coffee. As much as possible, keep the container away from heat and humidity, both of which accelerate degradation. Pre-packaged, mass-produced, whole bean coffee is often flushed with nitrogen during the packaging process, removing almost all oxygen. Beans packed thusly will stay fresh for several months. Similarly, fresh-roasted coffee out-gasses CO2 for a couple days, so prompt packaging in a container with a one-way valve can exploit the outgassing by letting the CO2 push out or dilute the oxygen, thus keeping the beans fresh for a longer period. Either method will help preserve the beans— but once the package is opened, you’re back to looking at a week or two before you start losing flavor. There are a few consumer products available for vacuum-packing coffee, which may add some shelf life to opened containers. Maybe it’s worth the cost and complexity to you, maybe it isn’t. In the interest of not making you go brew a fresh cup of coffee in order to make it through this article, I’ll leave you with three basic rules of keeping coffee fresh: Minimize exposure to oxygen, keep it cool, and keep it dry. So how do Marisa and I store our coffee when we’re on the road? First, we buy fresh-roasted coffee whenever we can. We always buy in one-pound lots, which lasts us about seven to 10 days. If the coffee supply is questionable where we’re headed, we pack a one-pound container of nitrogen flushed beans for every additional week we plan to be gone. We store the opened coffee in a stainless-steel container with a rubber gasket and a cam-lock lid, which is itself stored in a Pelican case with the rest of our coffee equipment. It’s a simple system that doesn’t cost much, and has yet to leave us drinking stale coffee. 120

Grinding Grinding coffee is essentially pretty simple: You’re turning big pieces of coffee (whole beans) into little pieces. Just how little those pieces are will be determined by what type of grinder you have, and how you set it up. Different brewing processes work best with different grinds, so it’s important to keep that in mind when you set up your grinder. Why exactly is fresh-ground coffee important? Ground coffee has a much larger surface area than whole bean coffee, and that exposes more of the coffee to oxygen, hugely speeding up the degradation process.

Conical burr mills Conical burr mills consist of rotating wheels (one inside the other) that literally tear the beans apart. When the pieces are small enough to fall between the wheels, gravity takes over, and

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Mortar and pestle In a pinch you can use a simple mortar and pestle. It’s difficult to achieve a consistent grind, and excruciatingly slow, but it is a viable method for the occasional coffee drinker who doesn’t want to spend the money on a quality burr mill - or someone who is trying to impress their new mother-in-law who likes to start stories with, “Back when I was your age, we didn’t have these fancy gadgets to . . .”

Getting to know your Grind

Espresso: For true (pressurized) espresso makers; Turkish coffee takes an even finer grind. Fine: Good for Moka pots and the Aeropress. Medium: Perfect for dripper cones and paper filters. Can clog metal dripper cones. Coarse: Best for French presses or other methods that involve long saturation time. Also the best grind for (gasp) percolators.

I’ll leave you with three basic rules of keeping coffee fresh: Minimize exposure to oxygen, keep it cool, and keep it dry.

{

Blade-type grinders Inexpensive blade-type grinders are essentially little blenders. Spinning blades literally chop the coffee beans into pieces. The longer you leave the blades spinning, the finer the resulting grind. If you have an inverter to supply power, they work reasonably well and won’t break the bank. However, the grind is inconsistent compared to other methods, and it’s virtually impossible to achieve a really fine grind. Depending on your brewing method, this may or may not be an issue.

they drop to the bottom of the grinder. This produces a very consistent grind and introduces very little heat into the beans. Burr mills can grind coffee at low rotational speeds, which makes them suitable for use with hand grinders, usually in the form of box or turkish mills. Typically, the gap between the wheels is adjustable so you can match the grind to your brewing process.

TIP

121

Overland Journal Gear 2011

It’s all about Brew

Forget the so-called experts who claim superiority for this method or that. Brew coffee how you like it. After all, you’re the one who will be drinking it.

Bialetti Moka

122

Aeropress

Abid Clever Coffee Dripper

Chemex Overland Journal Gear 2011

French press

Dripper Cones

MyPressi

Turkish Coffee

Kone filters

Common brewing methods A huge variety of brewing methods has been tried over the past few centuries; some have stood the test of time, others have not. The objective is the same: to extract certain chemicals from the coffee beans in the right proportions to achieve a flavorful cup of coffee. Each method has advantages and disadvantages. There is no ‘best’ way to brew coffee— only methods that an individual prefers over other methods. Forget the so-called experts who claim superiority for this method or that. Brew coffee how you like it. After all, you’re the one who will be drinking it. All brewing methods involve introducing hot water to ground coffee to extract the desired oils and other chemicals. Four key differences separate the brewing methods: how the water is introduced to the coffee, the surface area of the exposed coffee grounds, how long the water and coffee are allowed to interact, and how the resulting liquid is separated from the coffee grounds. Varying any of those factors changes the characteristics of the resulting brew. We’re going to look at eight brewing methods plus a couple filter variants.

French press The French press, or press pot, is probably the most

popular full-immersion brewing method in North America. Course ground coffee is added to the bottom of a special pot, typically made of glass or stainless steel. Hot water (195 - 210ºF), is poured over the grounds, the whole mess is stirred and allowed to steep for four or five minutes. Lastly, a wire screen in the form of a plunger is pressed from the top down, forcing the grounds to the bottom and allowing the coffee to be poured out the top. The use of a mesh screen as a filter medium allows some of the fines (sediment) to remain entrained in the coffee, giving the resulting brew a very full body. We use a Bodum Columbia model stainless-steel press. The doublewalled pot keeps the coffee hot for an hour or so after brewing, so we have plenty of time to enjoy all of the coffee before it cools off. Its shatterproof construction is perfectly suited for outdoor use. Cleaning is simple: Remove the lid, pull out the plunger, wipe out the grounds and rinse everything with clean water. Adjust the steeping time and the coffee to water ratio to suit your taste. Keep the grind coarse to minimize the fines that pass through the screen.

Abid Clever Coffee Dripper The Clever Coffee Dripper

is an interesting product. Like the French press, it’s a full-immersion brewer, but it uses gravity and a paper filter to separate the grounds from the liquid after brewing is complete. In appearance, it’s almost identical to a common dripper cone. The difference is the drain valve, which prevents the coffee from running out the bottom. You add the filter, coffee, and water to the dripper and let it steep for a few minutes, just like a French press. Then set the Clever Coffee Dripper on top of your coffee mug. The drain valve opens automatically (the rim of the mug pushes a plunger), and the coffee drains out the bottom. This gives you the same kind of control you get with a French press for adjusting the steeping time and coffee-to-water ratio. The paper filter does a better job of filtering out the fines than the wire mesh, but it also soaks up some of the oils extracted from the coffee grounds, so the result has less body. Stick to a medium or coarse grind—too fine and you’ll clog the filter. Cleaning is as simple as pulling the coffee filter out and rinsing the dripper with clean water. An alternative is to use a metal gold-tone filter in place of a disposable paper filter. This will leave all the oils in the coffee and allow some

of the fines to pass though. Plus, it doesn’t require cutting down trees and depleting ground water in order to make the disposable paper filters. In a side-by-side comparison, we agreed the metal filter resulted in a fuller body and a slightly brighter flavor. The body is about half way between the results from a paper filter and what you would get out of a French press.

Dripper Cones Dripper cones are about as simple a brewing method as you can get. They’re inexpensive, easy to find (unless you are in Tucson), have no moving parts to break, are simple to use and easy to clean. This is the most common pour-through method of brewing you’ll find in the backcountry. The process is as simple as setting the dripper cone on top of your coffee mug, adding the filter and coffee, and pouring hot water through the grounds. Gravity does the rest. You don’t have as much control of the process with this method as you do with the French press, but don’t let that fool you into thinking that you can’t refine the process to match your taste. Most of the control in this method involves how you introduce the water to the coffee. If you pour all the water in at once, you speed the brewing process along by increasing the head pressure on the filter, and you might even allow some of the water to bypass the coffee altogether, simply passing through the filter and running down the grooves outside of the filter. By slowing down the pour, you cause all of the water to pass through the coffee grounds. Also, by pouring over the entire top surface of the grounds, you ensure that all the grounds are exposed to the water, which helps avoid over-extraction in one area and under-extraction in another. Stick with medium and coarse grinds with this method, to avoid clogging the filter. A major upshot of this method is that equipment costs are extremely low (basic plastic dripper cones cost less than $5.00). The process is simple, and it results in a great cup of coffee. Cleaning is simple: Remove the filter and rinse the dripper with clean water. As with the Clever Coffee Dripper, you can substitute a metal filter to gain a little extra body and put another notch in your sustainability belt. To gain maximum control of the water you are pouring over the coffee, use a kettle with a long, thin spout, similar to the Hario Buono kettle. Chemex The Chemex is another pour-through brewing method,

very similar to the dripper cone but on a larger scale. Fans of this method tout that there is no cleaner cup of coffee to be had, thanks to the special Chemex filters that are the cornerstone of the process. Using a glass brewer that resembles a monster-sized hourglass with the top cut off, a filter and coffee are added to the top, then hot water is poured through the grounds. Just like the dripper cones, slowing down the speed that you pour the water will result in a richer flavor. Brewing takes a little longer due to the thick filters, but it provides a clean cup, and with no moving parts, it is utterly reliable—until you drop it (Chemex brewers are only available in glass). When the brewing is finished, simply remove the filter and grounds, and use the brewer as a carafe. Given the glass construction, caution must be exercised when using a Chemex in the back country. But it’s a viable method of brewing coffee for a small group if you like a cleaner cup of coffee than a French press provides. As a bonus, you can brag that your Chemex coffee brewer is in the permanent collection of the Museum of Modern Art in New York. Stick to medium and coarse grinds to avoid clogging the filter. Overland Journal Gear 2011

123

Kone filters The Kone (“K-one”) is a slight variation of the Chemex process, a sustainable alternative to the disposable paper filters on which the Chemex process was built. It’s a rugged stainless steel filter, made in the U.S. by Coava Coffee, and will last a lifetime. The brewing process is the same, but since you aren’t using a paper filter, the essential oils are not filtered out, just as with the French press or any of the other metal filter options. The Kone does add a little clean up to the process, since you need to empty and clean the filter rather than just toss it in the garbage. The paper Chemex filters provide a cleaner cup of coffee than the Kone, for the same reason that all the paper filters provide cleaner cups than their reusable metal counterparts. This could be either a benefit or a detriment, depending on how you like your coffee.

AeroPress The AeroPress is a full-immersion brewer that filters under pressure and boasts an incredibly short brewing time: one minute from start to finish. The process is simple: Add a filter to the cap, put the cap on the chamber, add fine-ground coffee and hot water. Stir the whole mess for 10 seconds, then use the plunger to force the coffee through the filter and into your cup. Like all other paper filters, the filter removes the fines and oils from the finished product, but using the plunger to force the coffee through the filter speeds up things considerably. Cleaning is pretty fast; just remove the cap, push the filter and grounds out of the chamber, and rinse the whole thing in clean water. The AeroPress produces a concentrate of sorts, similar in taste and appearance to espresso (although it doesn’t fit the technical definition of espresso). It’s much closer to a really strong cup of traditional coffee than it is espresso, but it works well for a base for other drinks (I typically use it as a base for a cup of Americano). The process works well, and the equipment is well-suited to outdoor use. It’s made with thick, non-brittle plastic and heavy rubber components that will stand up to a lot of abuse. Coava Coffee makes a re-usable metal filter, patterned after the Kone, for the AeroPress. It works really well, but just like every other process using a metal filter, it lets some fines through, giving it a fuller body. 124

Bialetti Moka The Moka pot has been around for a long time, and

for good reason. It’s simple, durable, and it works. Simply put water in the base, fill and tamp the basket with fine ground coffee, screw the top on it, and set it on the stove. In a few minutes it will quit making noise, and your coffee is done. Coffee brewed in the Moka pot has the appearance of espresso, but again, it doesn’t fit the technical definition. It is certainly closer to espresso than what you get out of the AeroPress, but you don’t get the crema or as robust of a flavor as you do out of true espresso. That said, it’s a rugged piece of gear that will last a long time, and provides an excellent base for coffee drinks.

Mypressi If you really want technically correct espresso in the back country, the Mypressi Twist can come to the rescue. This will brew a technically correct shot of espresso (actually, it will do two at a time if you want) if you are able to provide the correct grind and accomplish the pre-heating. You start by heating all the metal components with hot water. This is a critical step. If you don’t pre-heat, your espresso won’t be hot and it will suffer from under-developed flavor. Add 18 to 21 grams of fine-ground coffee to the basket, compact it with the included tamper, and install it in the basket holder. Add hot (195 - 205ºF) water, install the lid, and pull the trigger. Nitrous oxide (N2O), supplied via a small recyclable cylinder stored in the handle, pressurizes the water bowl to the appropriate 9 bar (135psi) and forces the water through the Overland Journal Gear 2011

coffee. Clean-up is fairly simple, just pull the basket out and dump the grounds, then rinse everything in clean water. A lot can go wrong with this process, so it takes a couple of attempts to get it right. The biggest challenge is pre-heating everything and then pulling the shot before it all cools off. Secondary to that is balancing how fine your grind is and the tamping pressure you use, in order to get the right extraction time (25 to 30 seconds). When you get the process dialed in, it makes an excellent cup of true espresso, complete with crema.

Turkish Coffee Turkish coffee is an old-world process that has been gaining popularity in recent years. It’s of particular interest to coffee lovers who want to slow down and live in the moment. While some of the other brewing methods use speed as a selling point, Turkish coffee is quite the opposite. It is a slow and deliberate process that requires only one specialized piece of gear: an ibrik (pronounced ee-brik, with a heavy roll of the ‘r’). This is a specially shaped brewing pot, typically made from copper and lined with tin. The process is relatively simple. Add water to the ibrik, add coffee (as fine a grind as you can get—it should be powdery), sugar, and cardamom (if desired). There is some debate as to whether you should stir the coffee/sugar/cardamom, or leave it all floating on the top of the water. I say try it both ways, and then make it how you like it. Heat the ibrik slowly until foam begins to form at the top (just before boiling). Remove from heat and stir. Once the foam has settled, resume heating. Repeat this process three times, but do not stir the coffee when you remove it from the heat the last time. Let the coffee settle for a minute or two, then divide the crema, then the coffee. Allow it to settle for a minute or two again, then relax and enjoy. There is no filter, so pour slowly to leave as much of the grounds as possible at the bottom of the ibrik. The result is surprisingly smooth. With a little sugar, this makes a great dessert drink. Just watch how much you drink, or you’ll be up all night. Whether you drink coffee to wake up in the morning, as a mid-day treat, or to relax after dinner, there is a process to suit your needs and fit your budget. With the exception of the Myspressi Twist, none of the brewing methods covered here costs more than a tank of diesel fuel for my truck. In fact, most of them cost less than a tank of gas for a compact car. Each method has room for experimentation, which means room for discovery. Go try a few. Have fun. Enjoy the sunrise (or sunset). Just remember, it’s more than just coffee. And watch out for the dancing goats.

RESOURCES

French press bodumusa.com, 800-232-6386 Abid Clever Coffee Dripper sweetmarias.com Chemex Coffee Maker chemexcoffeemaker.com, 800-243-6399 Kone filter: Coava Coffee Roasters coava.myshopify.com, 503-894-8134 AeroPress aerobie.com, 650-493-3050 Bialetti Moka bialetti.com, 800-421-6290 Turkish Coffee Ibriak available from sweetmarias.com Hario Buono kettle roustaboutproducts.com Mypressi Twist: available from spressoFAB 775-853-5597

(No phone/web address available where not listed.)

125

Overland Journal Gear 2011

Continued from page 128

126

builds this amazing structure from sticks, thorns, and grass in order to store fodder in case of emergencies during droughts and other times when food is less plentiful.” Who knew giraffes and squirrels had so much in common? The Americans soaked up this fascinating misinformation. I grew up in South Africa, and had the privilege of spending most of my childhood vacations in the bush. Over the years I’ve learned a lot about African wildlife. I also have some good friends who are game rangers, so I have somewhat of an insider’s edge. I thought this might be a one-off joke. But the ranger never corrected himself—and this wasn’t the only time I heard a ranger pitch a tall tale as a fact. One morning on a game drive in the Pilanesberg Game Reserve (Dave and I were married in this reserve), we came across a sounder of warthog. As they trotted away, the ranger asked if anyone knew why the warthogs’ tails stuck straight up in the air? I thought to myself that, much like the black tips on a lion’s ears and tail, this was a following device for their young. But according to this ranger, there was a far more amazing explanation. He stepped out of the Land Cruiser and into some long grass, then came back with a handful of tiny grass seeds. “You see these? Feel them,” he encouraged, as he held them out for me and some English guests to touch. “Feel how scratchy they are? See how long the grass is, and how short the warthogs are? When they run through this grass, the seeds get in their eyes. Because of this, the warthog actually closes its eyes when it runs. But, since a warthog has so little skin on its body, when it closes its eyes, its skin pulls really tight around its body and the warthog’s tail shoots straight up!” The theatrics of this particular tale were very impressive—and the guests swallowed it up, never the wiser that this too, was a tall “tail.” I feel a bit like a magician revealing a magic trick’s secrets. But, in fairness, I never took a “Keep all our African game ranger secrets safe” oath, and these stories are just too fun to keep to myself. When we were taking a water safari in Botswana, our guide worked for King’s Pool on the banks of Linyanti River, the natural border between Botswana and Namibia. We meandered down the river in a makoro (a small wooden canoe), watching a couple of hippo and some crocs on the banks. As we rounded a bend our ranger whispered: “Oh my God! Look at that! There’s a herd of Botswana elephant on the right bank and a herd of Namibian elephant on the left! This is a fantastic sighting! Notice that the Namibian elephant are light grey while the Botswana elephant are much darker, almost black. So there you have it! Two species of African elephant!” I kept my giggles to myself and watched our American companions snap photos. Shortly thereafter the ranger almost leapt out of the Makoro, and exclaimed, “Look, a hybrid!” He informed us that the father of this elephant was clearly a Namibian and the mother from Botswana, due to the light grey upper half and the black lower half. I waited for a huge cackle of disbelief from our group, since clearly this elephant was just half wet from crossing the river. But the cameras began snapping furiously for this rare, “once in a lifetime” encounter. A few days later, back at camp, sitting around the fire (which I call bush TV) a ranger from a neighboring camp arrived. He had driven for kilometers through the bush, at night, to tell our ranger just how funny he thought he was. You see, the same guests from King’s Pool were now staying at his camp. At dinner that night they had said, “The ranger at King’s Pool is the best ranger in the world!” and explained how he had shown them two species of African elephant and then had found them a hybrid. The rangers sipped their brandies and cokes and Overland Journal Gear 2011

laughed for most of the night. No one ever told those poor, unsuspecting guests the truth. I imagine they returned home and hung their hybrid African elephant photos on their Manhattan loft walls, and to this day are dining out on their spectacular sighting. One of by best friends, Lee-Anne, recently qualified as a game ranger for &Beyond safari camps and lodges (one of only 11 females to do so), and is stationed at Ngala Safari Lodge in South Africa. Visiting with her this December, I envied her life in the bush, but was also reminded of the monotony that long periods of bush dwelling can bring about. I guess when you’re stuck with the same group of rangers and trackers, watching only the flames on your bush TV each night, you need ways to amuse yourself and each other. And tourists new to Africa seem like easy targets. I asked why they spin these stories, and the rangers can’t really explain themselves. Is it an addiction? A humorous high? A competition? Or, just good, old-fashioned, juvenile pranks? Lee-Anne did point out, though, that her lodge has banned rangers from playing such tricks on their guests. So, if you’re planning an African safari, you might be safe visiting there. However, after a day of game drives, when we gathered around the camp fire in the boma, Lee-Anne did tell us that hippos kill more people in Africa than any other mammal, that lions mate 20 to 40 times per day; and that the musk from a civet’s anal glands has been used to make expensive perfumes…* * All true

127

Overland Journal Gear 2011

TAIL LAMP

128

Tina Payne

Campfire Stories

Tina and husband Dave on a “hybrid” elephant.

Of giraffe pantries, warthog tails, and hybrid elephants

he Snows of Kilimanjaro, Don’t Lets Go to the Dogs Tonight, The Poisonwood Bible, Cry the Beloved Country… Africa is a continent that generates vibrant, compelling, and universally acclaimed stories. This is only fitting: As the cradle of mankind and home to the discovery of fire, one can only assume that we humans spent our first two million years or so perfecting the craft of storytelling around campfires. When our ancestors migrated up to Europe and the rest of the world, they brought those storytelling traditions with them. As an African (or, as I like to call myself, an African-American, since I now have a Green Card and live in America) who spends Overland Journal Gear 2011

quite a bit of time back home, I’ve discovered that the story-telling apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree. This primal, exotic place has been capturing the hearts of the curious and the adventurous for centuries. This has in turn spawned a tourism industry, the engine that drives many economies on the dark continent. Those lucky enough to have taken an African safari might be surprised that luxury lodges across the continent are playing host to a new story-telling tradition. A few years ago my husband Dave and I were on safari at Madikwe Game Reserve in South Africa. Ironically, our companions on the ride from the airstrip to the lodge were Americans from California. We explained that

we lived in Los Angeles, and laughed at how we had all flown halfway around the world only to hang out with other Los Angelinos. On safari, the excitement begins the minute you set foot in the bush. As we left the dirt airstrip, we were soon spotting dazzles of zebra, journeys of giraffe, and herds of impala (often referred to as the “McDonalds of the bush” because they are so plentiful and such a tasty snack for predators). We stopped to view a large acacia tree, which appeared to have some kind of nest built into the tree’s trunk. I was familiar with this type of sociable weaver bird’s nest—but to my surprise, our ranger (who shall remain nameless to protect the guilty) explained that this was in fact a giraffe’s pantry. “The giraffe Continued on page 126

cxxix

Overland Journal Gear 2011

cxxx

adventure Overland Journal Gear 2011