It's 10:00 AM, and I could use a drink

I’m a big proponent of effective mirrors, and of developing the ability—and trust—to use them. I learned this decades ago while delivering furniture and major appliances for J.C. Penney, driving a 24-foot box truck and, occasionally, a 40-foot semi. You either learned to use and trust your mirrors on those trucks or you wouldn’t make it far without damaging either the truck or something the truck impacted. But I learned that mirrors don’t lie. If a mirror tells you the back bumper of the truck is two inches away from a wall on the passenger side, you can be absolutely sure it’s two inches away. This made maneuvering and backing much easier than it seemed at times to onlookers such as homeowners, whom I could (also) see in my mirrors gesticulating wildly or actually screaming as I backed up near their houses. But I never so much as scratched one (house or owner).

Needless to say, learning to use mirrors effectively is just as useful when piloting a four-wheel-drive vehicle in difficult terrain. If your mirror tells you you’re still two inches away from that tree trunk you need to back around, you can be absolutely sure you’re still two inches away.

However, effective use of mirrors depends on having effective mirrors.

The stock mirrors on my FJ40 were high-quality steel-framed units, but the round configuration was just too small. I dealt with them for years before deciding to try a different approach. My first trial was a set designed to bolt to the windshield hinges—no drilling required. They were very nice mirrors with decent area, but as it turned out the vertical tube of my front roll cage badly obscured the passenger-side mirror. Attempts to swing the arm backward just ran it into the windshield frame. Fail.

The next experiment was a set designed to bolt to the door hinge—again, no drilling required. That solved the roll-cage issue; however, I found the rectangular shape of the new mirror to be barely better than the original round mirror. They were tall enough but not wide enough. Another fail.

Tall enough but not wide enough

The solution had been there all along, and I knew it, but I’d been hoping to avoid that route. Later FJ40s came with generously sized square mirrors, but they employed a different mounting system that involved three holes drilled in the door just behind the top hinge.

Finally I ordered a set of the newer mirrors, along with a retrofit kit, from Cool Cruisers in Texas (noting on my order that no thanks, I did not want a free poster of a scantily-clad chick holding an AK47 posed in front of a Land Cruiser). The kit sat in my garage for a month while I procrastinated and found other tasks to do, like emptying out the junk in the center console, and, oh, wow, the windows really need a good cleaning.

Finally I gritted my teeth and deployed the 7/16ths drill bit called for. I was leery of the plastic compression inserts designed to hold the bolts for the new-style mirrors, but actually they snugged up reassuringly.

The new mirrors are a huge improvement, and worth the angst of applying a drill to my beautiful doors.

My only remaining regret is the slightly—no, decidedly—cheesy appearance of the plastic backing on each mirror. I know exactly how to fix that: All I need are the custom mirrors offered by the FJ Company; the models they install on their $200,000 restorations. They’ll let plebes like me order just the mirrors—for $1,200 per pair.

Driving with elephants: Botswana, anyone?

Last year we spent three weeks+ in Southern Africa and fell in love—Botswana in particular is now our hands-down favorite place on the continent to explore (and we’ve spent considerable time in Tanzania and Kenya). Easy to get to via Durban (direct flights now from many cities) or Johannesburg, it’s accessible, friendly, laid-back, and blessed with abundant wildlife.

And now is the time to go—as we said in this fall 2019 article in the Overland Sourcebook. If you just don’t have the time to plan your own trip (which can take considerable effort, especially if you haven’t ventured into Africa yet), we can highly recommend a September 2020 Botswana safari with Graham Jackson (Overland Expo training team director) and 7P Overland.

Up close and personal at Elephant Sands Camp, northern Botswana

Beginning August 31 at Santa Safari Camp near Victoria Falls, the trip will wend its way through the famous Makgadikgadi Pan, through the Central Kalahari Game Reserve, resupply at Maun (like Moab only with elephants), then explore Moremi Game Reserve and the legendary Okavango Delta. It just doesn’t get any better—especially with a small group (no more than 9)—for 16 days of classic Africa. ($14,500 all-inclusive once you arrive to Botswana; a bargain, in our opinion.)

More information at 7p.io/destinations/botswana/

A serendipitous funnel hack

Okay, I might be the last person on earth to discover this, but . . .

I went out to change the oil on our Troopy this morning, and discovered that somehow all my funnels had ended up at Ravenrock, our desert place . . . 40 miles away. No problem: I had an empty gallon bottle of windshield washer fluid, so I cut off the bottom to make an impromptu funnel.

And, lo and behold, when I inserted it into the fill port of the Troopy it engaged more or less perfectly with the threads. I was able to screw it in and employ both hands to control the oil pour. Plus, when I was finished I screwed the cap back on the bottom of my new “funnel,” so the residual oil wouldn’t seep out into the box where it’s stored.

I’m curious how many vehicles this would work on. Going to try the rest of ours . . .

The $50 MV50 air compressor. Yay or nay?

The ubiquitous MV50 air compressor, which is sold under a dozen different brands as near as I can tell, is not one I usually recommend. When they work, they work okay—not nearly as well as a truly high-quality compressor from Viair or ARB or Extreme Outback, but okay. Certainly the MV50 is a far better choice than those $29 plastic-bodied units with built-in flashlights that plug into the cigarette lighter. The MV50 has a metal body, and connects directly to the vehicle’s battery, which allows it to draw half-way decent amperage and thus put out halfway decent volume.

The problem with the MV 50s with which I’ve had experience has been consistency. Some owners have brilliant luck with them and wouldn’t use anything else; others have had them fail weeks into ownership. Yet so popular are they that you can easily find articles on hacking the unit for better reliability.

Recently I’ve been alerted to the MV50—in this case sold as a Masterflow Tsunami MF-1050—selling for under $50 on the Pep Boys eBay store (here at publication), with free shipping. At that price it’s a tempting bargain, even given the random instances of early failure.

I still urge those who ask me to spend til it hurts on their compressor, and I’ve never once had anyone come back and say he was sorry he bought an ARB Twin or an Extreme Outback ExtremeAir or even a Viair 400P. But if you really, really can’t afford that kind of money, at $50 the MV50 is a decent proposition—and way, way better than no compressor at all.

An odd winch bumper

I’m always on the lookout for inspiring—or horrifying—modifications and accessories on the four-wheel-drive vehicles I spot anywhere in the world. But this curious example was right here in Tucson.

I’ve written many times about the critical need to have visual and tactile access to the winch drum, and if this Jeep actually had a winch mounted to the bumper the operator would certainly have that access. But the plate securing the roller fairlead stumps me. For the life of me I cannot figure out the point of having it angled the way it is. The best wild guess I could come up with is that it vaguely mimics the look of the “stingers” so popular in a certain segment of the 4x4 community; however, it certainly wouldn’t function as one, and looks to me like it would hamper the function of the fairlead. 

With no winch mounted it’s difficult to be certain, but it appears the winch line would skim the bottom of the cutout for the fairlead very closely indeed when the drum was full. Since the side rollers are angled, a side pull would result in the line partially dragging on the roller, reducing its effectiveness—a minor flaw to be sure, since given a hawse fairlead the line drags all the time. However, on a steep uphill pull (a common winching scenario) with a side pull factor thrown in, the line would be at a very steep angle near the top of the side roller. 

Finally, on a general note: While I’m no welding expert, the bead along the winch plate and fairlead plate is really sloppy, and looks as though it might be lacking adequate penetration as well.

An odd winch bumper, to be sure.

It's not a "sway bar!"

Sometimes it is a heavy burden to be an uncompromising linguist. I recently saw a meme that resonated profoundly: “My life is a constant struggle between the need to correct grammar and the desire to have friends.” While I never, ever criticize or correct others in public—well, virtually never—anyone who has ever submitted an article to me discovered quickly that I did not let sloppy grammar, spelling, or usage slide. Queries that failed to employ even a smidgen of proper English went straight to the trash.

Certain things in particular set me off. I’ll fight to my grave the now-embedded acceptance of “their” to indicate a singular person, or the use of “altitude” when “elevation” is the correct term. Apostrophes in a plural? Mandatory jail time, I say. Or how about . . .

Sorry. Where was I? Right: Overland Tech and Travel. Let’s continue.

Many modern vehicles are equipped with an auxiliary suspension component, sometimes on the front suspension, sometimes on both front and rear. The component is in essence a spring—a rod usually shaped like an “E” without the middle horizontal. Each end is connected to one side of the suspension, usually by a link that can pivot slightly. The middle is connected to the chassis. When the vehicle enters a turn at speed and begins to lean toward the outside of the turn, the rod resists twisting and thus reduces the amount of lean.

This device is called an anti-roll bar, because the proper term for the “lean” a vehicle experiences in a turn is “roll.” Refer to the above graphic.

Unfortunately, the anti-roll bar is frequently referred to as a “sway bar”—an utterly incorrect term as you can see from the graphic. An anti-roll bar will in fact do nothing to control sway.

So ingrained is the mis-use that the switch for the brilliant and useful driver-disconnectable anti-roll bar on the Jeep Rubicon is labelled “Sway bar.” Aargh.

Anyway, please join me in insisting on the proper term.

Now, about those comma splices . . .

America's own Defender 130 Hi-Cap (minus the high capacity)

The first Defender 130 Hi-Cap (“High-Capacity”) pickup I ever saw in person was in Namibia in 1999, at a camp outside Sossusvlei. I was instantly smitten with the massive, dusty white beast. A Superwinch Husky worm-drive winch (my first in-person look at one of those, too) rode on a stout front bumper, atop which were two Cibie Super Oscar driving lamps. Over the bed arced a tube canopy frame, and the canvas cover was rolled up so the husband and wife owners could unload a shipshape configuration of battered Zarges cases (yet another first in-person look) and Pelicans. From the lot they quickly assembled a spacious, comfortable camp, retrieved beers from the Engel fridge mounted on a frame installed in place of the back seat, and set out chairs to relax. At that moment the 130 Hi-Cap became for me the ne plus ultra of safari vehicles. Its only competition would be an equally awesome and well-sorted Toyota Land Cruiser Troop Carrier I pored over two weeks later.

Flash forward 20 years. I now have my very own Troop Carrier, but a 130 will still turn my head—and in the training area at the 2019 West Expo we had the use of a really nice one, courtesy of the folks at Land Rover Las Vegas, who have supported Expos for a decade. (The LRLV 130, a 2003 model, is a special dealer import and not licensed for street use. Earlier 130s are just now legal for importation under the 25-year exemption.) 

We also had, courtesy Scott Brown at FCA, a brand-new Jeep gladiator pickup, which I had just driven on a media introduction run.

It was an impossible comparison to ignore.

Aside from the identical configuration (four doors plus cargo bed), the two are pretty close in dimensions.

Gladiator

Length: 218”

Width: 74”

Wheelbase: 137”

130 Hi-Cap

Length: 207”

Width: 70”

Wheelbase: 127”

Additionally, they each ride on an increasingly anachronistic separate, fully boxed chassis, and solid front and rear axles supported on coil springs. Even the UK ex-Camel Trophy contingent of our training team agreed that the Gladiator looks the business.

Could it be a worthy successor to the 130?

The 130, of course, has been out of production for four years, and the Gladiator has just entered production. So any comparisons in terms of ergonomics and technology would be unfair to the Defender. Besides that, “our” 2003 130 did not even have the benefit of the latest interior. No matter: I was more interested in the basic integrity of each vehicle, and the potential for the Gladiator to step into the giant shoes of the 130 in terms of its backcountry ability and utility. (I will note here, however, that despite the 130’s traditionally cramped driving position, I found its well-formed bucket seats more comfortable than the Gladiator’s, which are flattened to suit current, more . . . generous . . . body shapes.)

As a firm fan of Jeep’s Wrangler Rubicon Unlimited, I was particularly interested to see what effects the longer wheelbase and chassis had on the Gladiator’s torsional rigidity. So the first thing I did was to take it out to our cross-axle transition hill and get it completely twisted, two diagonal tires stuffed into the wheel wells, a third hanging in the air and the fourth barely in contact with the ground. Then I got out and visually lined up the bed and cab to note the degree of chassis twist.

The Gladiator—a convertible version at that—showing off its rigid chassis.

And . . . there was none. Or, I should say, virtually none. The bed was perhaps a half-inch out of alignment with the cab. On a 137-inch wheelbase, body-on-frame truck, that is beyond impressive. I’d been told that Jeep had not simply lengthened the Wrangler Unlimited’s frame to create the Gladiator but had gone to the expense of engineering a new frame. It showed. Sadly, I never got a chance to put the 130 in the same spot, but I seriously doubt it could have matched that performance. (The 130 chassis has exactly the same dimensions as a 110 chassis except for the 17-inch extension in the middle, and an extra crossmember.)

I found the ride of the two vehicles remarkably close. I’d still give the nod to the Defender for compliance on the road, but the Jeep’s extra tautness lent it better handling, especially in sharp transient maneuvers. How about suspension travel on difficult 4x4 sections? The 130 also had the edge there—that is, until you locked the Gladiator in low range and disconnected the front anti-roll bar, at which point it stepped decisively beyond the Land Rover.

Looking at the rest of each vehicle’s four-wheel-drive capability, there is really no comparison between a “full-time” 4x4 with a locking center diff, no cross-axle diff locks, and a 43:1 crawl ratio, versus a vehicle with part-time four-wheel-drive (and thus an automatically locked transfer case when 4x4 is selected), cross-axle diff locks front and rear, a 77:1 crawl ratio, plus that disconnectible anti-roll bar (the switch for which is still incorrectly and maddeningly labelled “sway bar”). The Rubicon wins this hands down. One could argue that a non-Rubicon Gladiator—that is, minus the anti-roll-bar disconnect, diff locks, and ultra-low crawl ratio, might not be so superior, and that’s a valid point. However, I wanted to compare each in its optimal configuration, and even a last-of-production 130 with electronic traction control would be left behind by the Gladiator in Rubicon form. Easy win to Jeep. 

Approach and departure angles are very similar on both vehicles; however, since the Gladiator is 11 inches longer than the 130, it needs a 10-inch-longer wheelbase to maintain those angles—and that hurts the breakover angle. This was apparent on our “elephant footsteps” track—a diagonally alternating series of deep holes. The Jeep ground out here where the 130 did not, and when I crawled underneath the Gladiator I was stunningly unimpressed with the factory “skid plate” covering the transfer case. It has all the appearance of re-purposed lawn-chair components. I’m sure the aftermarket will address this quickly, but FCA should have done it themselves. So, nod to Land Rover here.

Hmm . . .

Maneuverability? If you think the Jeep’s 44-foot turning circle feels vaguely ocean-linerish, wait ’til you crank the wheel on the 130, which needs a full 50 feet to complete a 180-degree turn, even with its shorter wheelbase. Win to Jeep.

Visibility out of both vehicles is very good and feels like a wash, although in the critical forward direction few competitors can match the Defender’s squared-off corners, which allow confident placement mere inches from boulders or building corners.

So, how about practicality for long-distance travel—for example cargo space in the bed? The Gladiator’s bed is 60 inches long; the 130’s is five inches longer, and almost 10 inches wider, so there is notably more volume; however, they are both fairly compact—Sleeping in either bed is a no-go unless done diagonally and solo. But the square shapes lend themselves to efficient packing.

It’s when calculating just how much one can pack that a stark difference arises.

The Gladiator has a listed curb weight of 5,050 pounds, and a gross vehicle weight rating of 6,250 pounds, giving it a weight-carrying capacity of 1,200 pounds including driver, passengers, and fluids, plus any of those overlandy accessories you want to add, like a roof tent, winch bumper and winch, etc.

The Defender 130 Hi-Cap has a listed curb weight of 4,750 pounds and a GVWR of 7,450 pounds, for an actual capacity of 2,700 pounds—well over twice that of the Jeep. Even factoring in some hyperbole on the part of Land Rover (I’ve always found their claims for towing ability to be laughable in real-world terms, for example), that’s a remarkable disparity. 

Again, one might point out the non-Rubicon spec Gladiator, which ups the capacity to 1,600 pounds (chiefly because its curb weight is roughly that much lower), but there’s still a big difference, and brings to mind one of my only big reservations about the Wrangler Rubicon Unlimited with its paltry 950-pound payload.

However. Consider the following to be under the heading of I DO NOT RECOMMEND THIS; YOU COULD DIE, IT MAY VOID YOUR WARRANTY, AND IT WILL INCREASE THE CHANCES OF A DEVASTATING ASTEROID STRIKE ON OUR PLANET.

Nevertheless . . .

The braking system on the Gladiator is far superior to that on the Defender. The Gladiator’s petrol V6 has significantly more horsepower and torque than the 130’s four-cylinder turbodiesel. The Gladiator’s chassis, as we have seen, is at least as rigid as the 130’s and almost certainly more so. Therefore, if I owned a Gladiator (which I wish I did), and I had no concerns about DYING, VOIDING MY WARRANTY, OR PRECIPITATING A DEVASTATING ASTEROID STRIKE, I would have no hesitation installing an uprated set of rear springs and shocks on it, and calculating a reasonable increase in usable GVWR.

Back to my initial question—with the benefit of hindsight now that I’ve seen and sat in the new Defender.

It’s clear there will be no Land Rover descendant of the 130. The Defender is now an entirely different vehicle—it’s highly unlikely there will be a pickup version at all, much less a quad-cab high-capacity version. That means that whether we agree or not, the Gladiator is the successor to the 130. There is no other quad-cab pickup available in the U.S. with a separate, boxed chassis, front and rear solid axles, and all-coil suspension.

Is it worthy? I say absolutely.

Best used truck or SUV? No surprises here.

The website iSeeCars.com has released the results of an exhaustive study tallying the most reliable, safest used vehicles with the best retained value. No big surprise that Toyota/Lexus tops the list, appearing twice as often as the next-best-performing make (Honda/Accura).

Read the full article here.