More on the 2024 Tacoma

With very, very few exceptions, the more I learn about the 2024 Tacoma, the more impressed I am by what Toyota has done to transform their number-one-selling mid-size pickup. Here are some updates to my previous post.

The Trailhunter model is by design set to be the go-to model for overland travelers, with good reason. It has a class-leading 1,700-pound cargo capacity—for comparison, that’s almost 150 pounds more than the current RAM 2500 Power Wagon. Like all the new Tacomas, the Trailhunter’s TNGA-F chassis is not only fully boxed, but reinforced at stress points with laser-welded gussets. All-coil suspension and OME shocks (not, however, as has been rumored, BP51s) should maintain excellent ride and handling when loaded. The tires are 33 inches in diameter, and the hybrid powertrain option, with its stupendous 465 lb.ft. of torque at 1,700 rpm, boasts a rear differential with a 9.5-inch ring gear, equivalent to that in the Land Cruiser. That is one beefy third member.

Add up the other features, whether standard or optional: steel ARB rear bumper with rated recovery points, available built-in air compressor, Rigid Industries auxiliary lighting, disconnectible front anti-roll bar, a locking rear diff, raised air intake, a 2,400-watt AC inverter on the hybrid i-Force MAX, and you’ve got the Tacoma we’ve been dreaming of.

Disappointments? One major one: There is no Access Cab available, only a crew cab with either a five or six-foot bed. But if you choose the six-foot bed you’ll be buying a “mid-size” truck with a wheelbase of 144 inches. That’s one inch less than the Tundra. Given the company’s obvious research into the overland market, I’m surprised at the lack of an Access Cab model with a six-foot-plus bed, for the many travelers who sleep back there.

Okay, two major disappointments: The hood scoop is still fake. Sigh . . .

As I mentioned, these hardly detract from the giant leap for mankind represented by the new Tacoma. There’s always the possibility that the company will add back the Access Cab option, although I’d bet it was solid data from sales numbers that made them decide to delete it in the first place. How many third-generation Access Cab Tacomas do you see driving around, compared to crew cabs? Not many.

The elegant (and impossibly light) Benchmade Narrows

As a longtime knife user/aficionado/connoisseur/nut, I’ve owned, reviewed, and just fondl . . . er, handled a lot of knives, ranging in price from a few bucks for a Mora bushcrafter to over a thousand for an exquisite Ichiro Hattori field knife with a pattern-welded blade cored with Cowrie-X steel at HRc 65.

Yet only once have I spontaneously exclaimed out loud when handed a knife. And as beautiful as it is, it wasn’t the Hattori.

I was in the Benchmade booth at the Overland Expo. One of the company reps, London Krapf, had got in touch with me via email and set up an appointment to take a look at their latest offerings. As a longtime owner of several Benchmade designs I was happy to oblige. When I met London, she showed me, among other new models, a stout-looking kitchen implement called the Station Knife—sort of a cross between a chef’s knife and a cleaver—and another called the Meatcrafter—essentially a fillet knife on steroids suitable for deboning anything from a bass to a bison. The latter looked like a versatile design for hunting and fishing, and I immediately tagged it for an article I was to write for Wheels Afield on the best new products at the show.

Then she walked me over to another display and said, “Here’s an interesting one we’re just introducing, called the Narrows.” She plucked a knife off the pegs that looked from the side very similar in size and shape to my Chris Reeve Sebenza, one of the best folding knives on the market.

She handed me the knife, and  . . . I blurted.

Honestly I don’t remember exactly what I blurted, but I’m afraid it might have been something along the lines of, “Holy shit!”

The knife was light. No, not just light; it was impossibly light, barely-there light, 900-fill goose down light, light in a way that made me wonder if Benchmade had found a source for Mithril.

London was grinning at me. “Pretty cool, huh?”

I looked closer. The knife’s handle was barely more than a quarter inch wide, yet it sat comfortably in my hand. Titanium scales and premium M380 steel drop-point blade, with handsome blue-anodized accents: screws, pivot, pocket clip, and ambidextrous thumb stud. It still incorporated Benchmade’s solid Axis blade lock—albeit without the usual steel liners. I tried the action, which was at least as silky as my Sebenza if not a little more so.

I handed it back reluctantly. After the show London got in touch again to confirm which models I wanted to test. I noted the Meatcrafter for the Wheels Afield review, then, even though I didn’t have a specific assignment for it, gave a professional pitch to get a Narrows as well, a pitch that went something along the lines of pleasepleasepleaseplease? And darned if one didn’t show up.

How light is this knife? My Sebenza, which also incorporates titanium scales, and whose blade is barely 15/100ths of an inch longer than the 3.43 inches of the Narrows, weighs 133 grams. The Narrows tickles the scales at 68 grams—almost exactly half. If you removed one side of the ambidextrous thumb stud it would probably knock off another gram or two. (The Narrows is user-serviceable with a T6 and T10 Torx bit.)

Now, let’s be fair. The Sebenza is rightly known as the strongest folding knife on the market. Chris Reeve’s Frame Lock is legendarily rock solid. Yet the Axis Lock of the Narrows—even without steel liners—feels reassuringly tight as well. There is absolutely no play in the open blade. Squeezing the titanium scales with all my thumb strength barely results in any flex.

Even so, I certainly don’t plan to use the Narrows to baton kindling in camp. The blade is .08 inches thick, compared to .12 for the Sebenza. But the Narrows adds a new dimension to the term EDC—as a knife for every day carry, this thing isn’t even there in a pocket. And as a conversation starter it hasn’t failed yet to elicit the same kind of outburst London got from me.

Benchmade is here. The Narrows is made in the U.S., and the company offers free sharpening for life.

The new ARB Earth Camper

In what is surely a natural progression, ARB has just announced its very own “adventure” trailer, which they’ve named the Earth Camper. At first glance, it seems to live up to the ARB reputation in terms of build quality and innovation.

It’s built around a massive, mandrel-bent and welded tubular chassis, which should provide absolutely flex-free support to the composite body panels. The trailer is supported by long-travel independent suspension employing, of course, Old Man Emu shocks. Electric brakes, alloy wheels (with Toyota lug spacing), and Maxxis all-terrain tires with spare are standard.

The salient feature of the trailer is the enormous clamshell back, which folds down at the push of a button to provide a raised, hard floor. A door then provides access to a queen-size bed. For quick overnight stays you can be tucked away inside a couple minutes. For a full camp, a tent erects around the floor to provide a completely sheltered dressing, sitting, and eating space. A dining table unfolds from the base of the bed area.

On the left side of the trailer is a full-pull-out kitchen, including a 96-liter dual-zone fridge freezer, a three-burner stove, and sink. There’s plenty of storage above and to the side. Internal tanks provide a full 140 liters (36 gallons) of water, and an additional storage nook holds a 20-liter jerry can. That’s more water than most full-size trailers and campers provide. Well done ARB.

Electrical power is provided by a 120-watt solar panel and a 100-amp-hour lithium battery—that’s right: standard LiFePO4 power. Again, well done—and there is room in the battery compartment for a second 100AH battery. You can also easily plug in portable solar panels for extra input. Charge control is via a high-quality Redarc system.

On the opposite side of the camper is an optional en-suite toilet and shower enclosure of luxurious proportions, and a Hot Tap water heater and shower system.

There are numerous other features, and optional awnings and side curtains that will transform the Earth Camper into the full epic Aussie quarter-acre encampment. The versatility—from two-minute crash pad to let’s-stay-a-month homestead—will be one of the trailer’s most attractive features.

I have no word yet on price or weight, but I suspect ARB will sell every one of these they can produce. find out more here.

Vintage Dodge Power Wagon camper

Full disclosure: I lifted this maddeningly fractional story off the Maple Leaf Up site, a forum for fans of Canadian military history and equipment. I was looking for ads for or images of early Power Wagons, as part of a review I’m writing for Wheels Afield on a new RAM Power Wagon.

On a page of various PW images I found this. Just the one page of an obviously longer piece, describing in part a fabulous camper built by S. Robert Russell and “his wife,” on a used Power Wagon they bought from a Miami car lot. Look at the features and you’ll see it would stand side by side with the most full-featured of its kind today. The article identifies the truck as “front-wheel drive,” which is clearly a mistake by the writer.

I Googled S. Robert Russell, and “S. Robert Russell Power Wagon,” but found nothing. If anyone else tries and finds the bottom of the rabbit hole, let me know!

Pouring oil the correct way

Wait. Does anyone need instruction in how to pour oil into a crankcase?

Apparently I do, because it was only last year that I noticed a little icon near the top of a bottle of oil I was pouring into the Land Cruiser.

I had always poured it this way:

But the little icon told me to pour it this way:

And, well, to use the colloquialism . . . Duh. Poured this way the oil dispenses with zero gurgling, since air immediately enters the top of the bottle.

If I’m the only numpty on the planet, oh well. But if you read this and thought, “Ah ha!” Then you’re welcome.

Traction board recovery: Go slow and get it right the first time

I teach a simple rule for retrieving a vehicle bogged in sand: The slowest recovery is usually the fastest, because it works right the first time.

Time after time I watch people mildly bogged in sand get out the MaxTrax (or whatever traction boards they have), dig a peremptory trench in front of the sunken tires, cram the board in, and give it the beans, which results in nothing but the tires digging in deeper because they aren’t actually in contact with the board. Or, worse, the tire will be barely on the edge, and the spinning tread will fail to catch but will melt off the first row of spikes on the board, even alloy versions. The vehicle is now stuck worse than before and the expensive traction boards are damaged.

This won’t work.

The tire is not in contact with the board. It will only sink farther.

Don’t do it that way. Take the time to fully dig out in front of the tire, enough so the traction board makes full contact. If possible you want the trench dug out so far that the tire wants to roll down onto the board. And make sure the trench has the gentlest possible slope. Don’t do what one poor fellow I watched did and scoop out all the sand into a nice little mound in front of the trench, right where the tire needed to go.

This will work. Board in firm contact with the tire, and a gentle ramp to climb.

If you’re solo and need to keep moving once you’re free, don’t forget to put the shovel back in the vehicle, and leash the traction boards to your rear bumper so they’ll follow you like obedient dogs until it’s safe to stop.

Americans always seem to be embarrassed by getting stuck, when in fact it’s a normal part of exploration. Adopt the attitude of my British friends, who use the mildest bogging as an excuse to take a break and brew some tea.

A stylish one-off for the G-Wagen's 500,000th celebration

Mercedes Benz has produced this achingly tempting but singular homage to the Gelandewagen to commemorate the model’s 500,000th production unit. Retro green paint, black trim, spare tire cover, even period-orange fender-top turn signals are going to have a lot of people begging the company to produce a limited run. And look at those silver alloys, mounted with tires that actually display sidewall, unlike the typical AMG boulevard showpiece.

Underneath, of course, the chassis, running gear, etc. is all the current generation, although we’re promised (but not yet shown) a period checkered interior treatment. I’d bet a 500-example run of these would sell out in minutes.

Toyota (finally) steps up with the new Tacoma*

*Or: Never again will a Toyota factory rep have to say with a straight face, “Drum brakes are better off road!”

Anyone who has read my writing is aware of the huge respect I have for Toyota’s vehicles—a respect gained through long personal experience, from my very first car, a used 1971 Corolla, to the FJ40 I’ve owned for 45 years, to the more-than-several Toyota pickups and Land Cruisers Roseann and I have owned, along with those we’ve driven on several continents.

Those same people also know the very high standards to which I hold Toyota, and my willingness to call out the company when I believe a vehicle it offers for sale does not meet those standards.

No Toyota model has endured more of those call-outs than the previous two generations of the Tacoma. From the model’s laughably archaic rear drum brakes (here) to its open-channel rear frame section (shared with the previous Tundra, here) to high-revving engines unsuitable for truck duty (here), it annoyed me that my company was clearly coasting and cost-cutting, unwilling to invest in improving a vehicle that remained safely on top of the sales charts.

Either someone at Toyota has been reading my stuff (unlikely), or the company noticed that newer trucks such as the Chevrolet Colorado, Ford Ranger, and Nissan Frontier had decidedly surpassed the Tacoma in virtually every area except (arguably) reliability.

Whatever the reason, the 2024 Tacoma is a huge, huge leap.

Begin with the chassis, which is now (or rather, once again) of fully boxed construction, far more torsionally and longitudinally rigid than the outgoing platform. It’s a modification of the same chassis that underlies the new Tundra and Sequoia. In addition to the boxed sections, it’s laser-welded from high-strength steel and employs strengthened crossmembers. Bravo.

Next, suspension: While base models (SR, SR5, and the Prerunner) will still employ leaf-spring rear suspension, higher-spec models will benefit from a multi-link coil-spring rear, which will improve ride and handling without sacrificing load-carrying—in fact, load capacity is significantly increased on models such as the new, overlanding-focused Trailhunter. (I’m hoping Toyota learned from the new coil-sprung Tundra, which can exhibit squirrelly behavior under heavy towing loads. This is easy to correct with proper bushing and spring specs.)

Oh, and, yes, all models will sport rear disc brakes. Welcome to the late 20th century, Toyota!

Next: Engines. Remember me bitching about 4,000rpm-plus torque peaks? How about a torque curve that peaks at 1,700 rpm? That’s diesel-like twisting power, and exactly what a truck needs.

The new Tacoma has just one engine configuration: a turbocharged, 2.4-liter inline four-valve four-cylinder. However, differing states of tune, plus the addition of a hybrid drivetrain, result in a spread of horsepower and torque ratings—none of them sub-par, and all with more torque than horsepower. Again—Bravo.

The base SR engine—with an eight-speed automatic transmission replacing the previous six-speed—is a marked improvement over the previous base 2.7-liter engine (159 bhp, 180 lb.ft.@ 3,800 rpm) in horsepower, torque, and where that torque comes in. And take a look at the i-Force Max turbo hybrid, with 326 hp at 6,000 rpm and an astounding 465 lb.ft. of torque at 1,700 rpm, assisted by an electric motor that delivers 48 hp and 184 lb.ft. These were figures I previously only dreamed of having available in the Tacoma. Plus, Toyota gave an approving nod to the few remaining manual-transmission aficionados left in the U.S., with a six-speed clutch-operated option.

What remains to be revealed are a few towing and payload ratings, plus the critical question of fuel economy. However, unlike the previous Tacoma engines, which offered both mediocre horsepower and mediocre fuel economy, at least we know we’ll get the power this time.

Another very pleasant surprise: The dash of the 2024 Tacoma—aside from the ubiquitous, industry-wide giant iPad tacked onto the middle, which I guess I really need to get over—is simple, handsome and functional. In fact I’d put it a close second to my all-time favorite dash layout, that of the current Land Rover Defender. The Tacoma has even incorporated similar all-LED gauges in front of the driver, which should be clearly legible in any light. To repeat myself: Bravo.

Then there’s the external styling. I squinted when I first looked at an actual photo of the new Tacoma, fearing it would ape the design of the new Tundra, which I find . . . how can I put this diplomatically . . . awkward. But no—the Tacoma, especially in the front end, lacks the comically massive, blunt, unharmonious “lines”of the Tundra. The Tacoma is aggressive, but various styling elements combine to break up the whole in to manageable segments. I actually like it, even if I still think our 2000 Tacoma was the best looking era of the model.

Other available niceties? Driver-disconnectable anti-roll bar. ARB-sourced components, including OME suspension. Thirty three-inch tires. Recovery-capable steel rear bumper. The list goes on.

So far I think the new Tacoma is a stunningly bold and much-needed leap for Toyota. It’s enough to make me stop dreaming about the Hilux (well, except for that turbodiesel . . .). The big remaining question is, will Toyota be able to put this all-new model into production and retain the legendary Toyota reliability? The first year of the 2016 update was notable for a higher number of recalls than usual. Only time will tell if the company can hit their marks first time out this time.

In the meantime, as I mentioned: Bravo, Toyota. I am eagerly anticipating a road test as soon as I can arrange it.