Originally Posted by
Fifth Columnist
Back in the days when I took over LRO's Roverphile column from James Taylor I wrote this on our family vehicles.....
ROVERPHILE
ONE MILLION MILES BETWEEN THEM
SERIES IIA STATION WAGON 1964-1990
It was more than ten years after my introduction to the marque before I could afford one of my own. A young engineer slowly working his way through the ranks, the best I could manage was a ten year old Vauxhall Victor Estate. It had decent ground clearance and even once managed the infamous ‘Gap Road’, from the north end, as far as the gap!
However, in the early seventies, my then employers took a liking to me and presented me with an enormous bonus. Six a.m. the next Thursday found me in the local newsagent to grab the first copy of Exchange & Mart and by eight, after running up quite a phone bill, I’d found the motor for me. A one way train ticket to Romford was followed by a return journey as ‘king of the road’ in my eight year old Series IIA 109” Station Wagon. My Dad’s immediate reaction was, “What the hell do you want to buy a damn great thing like that for?” Similar comments came from my friends, usually accompanied in the same sentence by remarks about how they’d got this large piece of furniture that needed moving! I didn’t care, I’d got my Land Rover at last. The grey, twelve seater was to remain my sole means of transport for nearly two decades and in that time I would come to know every single part to an intimate and frequently frustrating level.
Bonuses don’t last for ever and the thirst of an 85,000 mile old 2¼ petrol engine wasn’t helping. Another Exchange & Mart (we didn’t have LRO in those days) found me an ex Post Office BMC 2.2 diesel engine and conversion kit. Nought to fifty in one minute flat but twenty-six miles to the gallon! With an economic motor and the M.6 newly opened, weekends meant anywhere was possible. North Wales, The Lakes, The Peaks and The Yorkshire Dales were frequented, on my own or with friends from the Brighton Explorers Club. My annual mileage usually topped 30,000. After a few years I had a regular passenger and co-driver who’d discovered that green lanes were nice quiet places for courting! Two years later Helena and I were married. The honeymoon? Two weeks green laning in the Dolomites living in an Air Camper tent on the roof. When the rear diff. gave out at the start of our journey home, out came the rear half shafts, off came the prop, push down on the yellow knob and drive six hundred miles home on the front axle. Not many cars carry a spare set of transmission!
As time went by and green roading became more paperwork than driving we looked for other ways to go off road. We joined the Southern Rover Owners Club. Even though our BMC engine disqualified us from trialing we made many friends and spent enjoyable weekends in the caravan that had now replaced our roof tent.
After seventeen years and 500,000 miles the old girl (the Land Rover, not the wife) finally succumbed to too many ‘cosmetic’ MoT repairs, there just wasn’t any metal left on the chassis to weld new patches onto! It was a sad, sad day that we watched her disappear down the road on the breakers trailer. Hopefully, some of her parts are still keeping someone else’s pride and joy on the road today.
RANGE ROVER 1978
Having been members of the Southern Rover Owners’ Club for some years, we started driving CCV trials. The Series One was owned by a friend and it wasn’t long before we bought a half share. I’d long had my eye on the 1978 Tuscan Blue Range Rover that Ian used to tow it to and from events. Ian ran a haulage business and was frequently asked to move heavy, trailered loads all over Europe. The Range Rover fitted the bill but needed more power. At Bob Pilbeam’s Range Rover Service Centre it was fitted with a high compression V8 from a Van den Plas SD.1, together with a large bore single exhaust containing an American ‘Cherrybomb’ silencer in place of the main box. This not only improved the performance but gave it the most wonderful exhaust note! I asked for first refusal if ever Ian wanted to sell it.
In 1993, Ian gave up his haulage business and offered the Range Rover to me. I didn’t have the money. Helena did! Ah well, at least I’d get a chance to drive it. After a while, a little pleading from me and a few threats of what would happen ‘if’ from Helena, lead to me driving a few RTV trials. This was nice. Power steering and equally effortless power from under the bonnet, after the years of trialing my Series III diesel, it was a revelation. The climax came with the last trial we entered in it. A class first at the 1997 ARC International, a fitting tribute for an aging motor.
450,000 miles on the clock and several years of trialing had taken it’s toll on the bodywork. A friend in the Southern had found a pristine four door body from a failed restoration and offered it to Helena. Still in it’s bubble wrap from the dark blue metalic respray it was delivered to Bob’s. It would only take a couple of days to disconnect the controls and electrics, undo the handful of bolts and lift the tatty old body off. Then, as they say in the manual, reverse the proceedure to assemble, but that’s a long story for another day. Suffice to say, it was eight weeks and a chassis up rebuild before Helena finally drove her pride and joy home. It’s shiny new paint clearly saying, ‘Tyros only, from now on!’
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