Fall 2011 Issue

Transcription

Fall 2011 Issue

Fall 2011 $10
i
Behind the Iron Curtain
Solar Panel Comparison
Baja Adventure Guide
Jack Pine Scrambler
Overland Journal Fall 2011
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CONTENTS
Fall 2011
Feature
s
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Abenteuer and Allrad Show, Christian Pelletier and Persephone Crittenden
39
Behind the Iron Curtain: Cold War Russia, Åsa Björklund
51
Solar Panel Comparison, Graham Jackson
72
The World’s Favorite Bus: VW Syncro, S. Lucas Valdes and Jad Josey
83
Vehicle Feature: 200 Series Land Cruiser, Harry Wagner
91
Lessons from Ethiopia, Janet Wilson
95
Jack Pine 850 Triumph Scrambler, Chris Collard
Dep
artments
2
8
Overland Post
12
Editor’s Column
14
Editor’s Project
20
News from the Trade
27
Overland News
65
Latitude
101
Overland Conservation, Roseann Hanson
102
Overland Medicine: Overland with Children, Andrew Cull
107
Skills: Traveling in Baja, Scott Brady
120
Overland Chef: The Baja taco de pescado, Chris Collard
123
Classic Kit: The Svea 123, Christophe Noel
128
Tail Lamp: Five Days in No-Man’s Land, Pablo Rey
On the cover: The ascent from Aqua Verde, Baja Sur. Photo by Scott Brady.
This photo: Last light on the Pacific Ocean, north of Guerrero Negro, Baja Mexico. Photo by Cam Brensinger.
Back cover: NAS Defender 90 overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Baja Mexico. Photo by Scott Brady.
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Fall 2011
Publisher and Chairman Scott Brady
President and Director of Design Stephanie Brady
Editor-in-Chief Chris Collard
Executive Field Editor Jonathan Hanson
Senior Technical Editor Graham Jackson
Technical Editor Christophe Noel
Conservation Editor Roseann Hanson
Medical Editor Dr. Edward Beggy
Contributing Editors Zach Berning, Åsa Björklund,
Tom Collins, Andrew Cull, Persephone Crittenden,
Brian DeArmon, Jack Dykinga, Jad Josey, Lois Pryce,
Andrew Moore, Christian Pelltier, Pablo Rey, Chris Scott,
Tom Sheppard, Harry Wagner, Janet Wilson, Segismundo
Lucas Valdes
Copy Editors Denise-Christine, Tena Overacker
Cartographer David Medeiros
Graphic Designer Chazz Layne
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
[email protected], [email protected],
[email protected]
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
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OverlandPost
Greetings from
Afghanistan
Thanks for the second greatest photographic
and outdoor adventure magazine published
(right there behind Nat Geo). I'm an ER physician with the 115 Army Combat Support
Hospital and we’re down here in Helmand
Province, Afghanistan, supporting the Marines while they chase bad guys. We work
closely with a British helicopter medivac unit,
and our brothers from the U.K., in addition to
multiple U.S. Army medics and Afghani local
nationals. They have been seen coveting my
Spring edition, which replaced the entrenching tool in my rucksack during deployment
earlier this spring. I’m not sure what happened to the Summer edition, but odds are
that it and the missing cookies wound up in
my dad’s possession before the last box of
goodies was shipped. Here’s hoping the Fall
issue makes it here!
CPT Jon Solberg, MD
2005 Rubicon, 4” lift, front and rear winch,
on-board air, inverter, CAT work lights, Sierra
4x4 trailer with 20-gallon water tank, propane,
deep-cycle battery, and solar panels
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Editor’s note: We’ll be sending Jon some Overland
Journal swag and a few dozen copies to share with
his team.
Write us a note
Become a fan on Facebook to
communicate with us and other
readers and get up-to-date information on what we're up to, the
latest trips, and newest gear.
I wanted to share some photos of the recent
Easter expedition made by myself, my son,
and several groups of good friends to the
Padre Island National Seashore on the Texas
Gulf Coast. Obviously, your Overland Journal 2011 Gear Guide was on my checklist of
things to take for campside entertainment.
While our rigs are U.S. domestic vehicles, the
trip was every bit as exotic for us as many of
the ones we have read about in your publication. I look forward to getting my next issue
in the mail. While I may not be able to get my
trusty steed to the same locations you feature
in your magazine, the expeditions detailed often give me ideas for adapting to my particular
wandering needs.
John Hicklin
2006 Chevrolet Silverado K2500
Overland Rigging Ever-In-Progress
Independence Day
I finally had the chance tonight to sit down
and read my summer issue of Overland Journal and first congrats on the great job! Your
[Chris Collard’s] journal entry, “Independence Day” is certainly inspirational!! Thanks.
Bridget Michaud
2004 Jeep Wrangler
Life Well Lived
CPT Jon Solberg with his daily driver.
John Hicklin on the Texas Gulf Coast.
CONNECT
SHARE
Wandering Ideas
attention: Overland Post
[email protected]
PO Box 1150
Prescott, AZ 86302
Include your name, address, email address, daytime
phone number, and the year and make of your vehicle.
Letters may be edited for length and clarity.
Where in the world has your Overland
Journal been? Send us a photo, along with your name,
the location, and a brief description.
I loved the [Lois Pryce] article about Robert
Fulton in the Spring issue of Overland Journal.
I thought that it was incredibly well written
and truly captured the essence of his life well
lived. I'm not sure whether I'm more inspired
by his journey, his character, or [Lois’] writing.
Stirling Noren, Noren Films
2010 BMW F800GS
Photo by Bruce McCallum
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CONTRIBUTORS
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Fall 2011
Åsa Björklund
Janet Wilson and Tom Feuchtwanger
Swedish born and educated, Åsa has
roamed the globe working as a waitress,
a factory employee, and a dozen other
odd jobs “that made life more interesting.” As a human rights lawyer, she
worked with development aid in Central
America, reporting on sensitive issues
of the region. When Åsa could escape
the office, she explored remote areas
of Guatemala, Belize, El Salvador and
Honduras in a Land Rover. With a desire to write fulltime, she switched
careers to journalism. Her work includes articles for a variety of Swedish and English language magazines and websites, covering topics such
as overland traveling, wildlife, current affairs and social issues. Åsa has
a passion for animals and has a particularly soft spot for horses. Whenever she can, she hikes the backcountry in her new home state, Arizona.
She says, “I keep falling in love with this place over and over again.”
Janet Wilson and Tom Feuchtwanger
grew up in Southern Africa where they
met and married some 40 years ago.
They have a deep love for that continent, its wilderness, wildlife and people.
During their early years together, they
spent many years living in the African
bush where Tom worked as an exploration geologist. In 1979, they immigrated
to Canada with their two young children
and continued to explore the North American wilderness. Their first
overland adventure in 1974, in a Renault, took them throughout Europe. This lifelong love for exploring the world continues, and in 2008
they completed three overland trips circumnavigating Africa. As regular speakers for adventure-travel seminars, they are currently taking
a break to drive from Alaska to Antarctica. Next on the overlanding
horizon…Asia.
Pablo Rey
Segismundo Lucas Valdes
Pablo was born in Buenos Aires, Argentina. He moved to Spain in 1992, where
he enjoyed an extraordinary life… but
just on weekends. In 1999, during a
trip thru Africa, he committed never to
buy a return ticket again. Shorty after,
he moved into a 1991 Mitsubishi L300
4WD with Anna Callau, his adventure
partner. The goal: overland during four
years thru Africa, America and Asia
while making as many turns as possible. After 50 countries and 11
years, they are still on the road—it seems they have succeeded. Pablo
is an “ex” creative ad writer, “ex” illegal immigrant, and a master of
getting into trouble in faraway places. His web page, viajeros4x4x4.com
has become a source for Hispanic travelers and overlanders. His latest
book, Around the World in 10 Years: The Independence Book, will be soon
available in English.
Segismundo Lucas Valdes was born
in Havana, Cuba, and grew up in San
Francisco. At an early age he developed
an interest in all things mechanical and
an appetite for adventure. He was given
his first bike on his 8th birthday, which
he immediately took apart and put back
together because, “they put it together
all wrong.” He was introduced to Baja,
Mexico at age 16, where he served as his
group’s mechanic. After earning a mechanical engineering degree from
Cal Poly and doing the “stiff shirt” routine, he quit, moved to Los
Osos, California, and started a VW van business, Go Westy. When he’s
not working, he’s probably exploring the Baja Peninsula with his wife
Kathy and kids Lucas and Clara in their Syncro Westy.
Christian Pelletier and Persephone Crittenden
Harry Wagner
Christian left home at age 16, never to
return.... With an Engineering degree
in hand, he spent his twenties and thirties working and traveling all over the
world—he even raced a mountain bike
across Costa Rica. Such worldly experience made Christian the perfect candidate to be Expedition Portal’s President
and CTO.
Persephone, a citizen of the world, grew up with an Air Force father
and visited five countries before entering kindergarten! This led to adventurous careers in acting, surfing, mountain climbing, and clinical
psychology. She has written and edited numerous articles and books,
and is an editor for Expedition Portal.
Harry Wagner was bombarded with
outdoor opportunities from a young
age. When not participating in Boy
Scout activities, he was exploring the
coast of northern California and the Sierra Nevada from the back of the family’s FJ40 Land Cruiser. He earned a degree in geophysics in Colorado and was
assigned to work in Venezuela shortly
after graduation, where he developed
an interest in travel journalism. The trend continues today, and Harry
dovetails his career cleaning up old bombing ranges throughout the
country (yes, really), with opportunities to explore, photograph, and
document new locales.
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JOURNAL ENTRY: From the Editor
Chris Collard
Forgotten Passions
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have certainly
Child Protective Services would
home.
removed me from this dangerous
The simple things are
often the most rewarding—
The key is taking time
to be absorbed by them . . .
I received a package in the mail recently, one of those soft-pack types from an international
carrier sporting numerous barcodes and customs stamps. Upon opening it, I removed several
layers of additional padding, carefully positioned to protect a small cardboard-wrapped bundle.
Peering in, there was a small Ziploc bag containing a plastic box of processed film. Yes, film—
good old hold-in-your-hand color transparencies fitted on old-style paper mounts. The edges
were yellowing and worn, and handwritten notes graced each one, noting locations such as
Yugoslavia, Ukraine, and USSR. I dusted off my loupe and began a journey back in time—to
the days of the Cold War, before the fall of the Berlin Wall… when a visit to the Union of Socialistic Soviet Republics was off limits to most travelers.
My first camera was a Kodak 110 Pocket model. I received it as a sales prize from my paper
route. With this new single-aperture, single-shutter-speed rig, I was sure, at age 10, that I was
capturing National Geographic quality images of alligator lizards and king snakes from the local
field, and my dog. For the past fifteen years I’ve been a Canon shooter, and begrudgingly converted from film to pixels as the quality of digital imagery caught up with, and exceeded, that of
film. But there is something about laying out 36 transparencies on a slide tray and viewing them,
brilliantly backlit, with the naked eye.
As I carefully cleaned each of the precious artifacts before processing them to digital files, I
remembered how much I enjoyed loading a roll of film in my camera and heading into the field.
Taking time to focus on the basics of composition, exposure and depth-of-field, without the
option of instantly reviewing them to see how I did.
And what does this have to do with overland travel you might ask? Not much—maybe.
But last week I rekindled another forgotten passion—motorcycles. I completed a 1,700-mile
ride through northern Nevada and eastern Oregon. My mode of transportation—a scramblerstyle, 865cc twin, Jack Pine Triumph from Hammarhead Industries. I’d not been on a dirt bike
since the late 80s, when I seized a piston on my Yamaha IT175 and my cousin Michelle was
killed while racing. After literally thousands of days riding in the deserts of Southern California
and Baja, Mexico, I just let it go.
As a child of the 60s, my pre-kindergarten years were spent riding on the tank of my dad’s
Greeves 250 (yes, today’s Child Protective Services would have certainly removed me from this
dangerous home). Dirt bikes back then were no more than converted street bikes, and were
known as “Desert Sleds.” Throwing my leg over the Jack Pine, feeling the throaty, seat-of-yourpants acceleration as my right hand rolled back on the throttle, brought it all back like it was yesterday. With a cocktail of nostalgia swirling around my grey matter, what better way to mitigate
the situation than with a barebones solo ride in the desert?
I bungeed a sleeping bag to the seat, stuffed my day pack with a basic tool kit, toothbrush,
change of clothes, camera and a Jetboil stove, and headed for Nevada. My navigation tools; a
paper AAA road map and compass. While it was light, I rode; when something captured my attention, I pulled out my camera. At sunset, I laid out my bag, fired up some instant soup with a
little rehydrated beef jerky, and watched the constellations dance around the North Star.
It is experiences such as this, taking time to sort through old slides or sleeping in the desert,
a dozen miles from the closest human, which keep me grounded and help me remember what
life is really all about. The simple things are often the most rewarding—yet they might just be
a forgotten passion lingering under the surface of our consciousness. The key is taking time to
be absorbed by them, allowing them to take you for a ride rather than the other way around. My
good friend Jim Harris often says, “When you come to a fork in the road, take it!” I think it’s a
good motto to live by.
I’m contemplating a new Editor’s motorcycle project. I can’t wait to see what it is—maybe
a Jack Pine.
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Meet the
TEAM
Overland Journal
team members will be attending the Overland
Rallies in Rockingham, Vermont (9/29 to 10/2),
and Hollister, California (10/20 to 10/23).
We’d love to meet you
Go to overlandrallies.com for details.
FOLLOW US
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on our reviews and expeditions.
Editor’s
Project
Chris Collard
The Envelope Please…
Overland Journal’s new Editor-in-Chief shares thirty years
of driving the best overlanding vehicle on the planet.
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L
ast month I spent a few days with a group of overland travelers and dual-sport
riders. They were an enthusiastic lot, and experience levels varied from newbie to
world nomad. The conversation morphed from añejo tequila and Baja beaches, to
which company makes the best dual-sport tire, headlamp or roof top tent—the
former is not my area of expertise, I know a bit about the latter. The subject transitioned to
traveling in Africa, Australia and the Americas—and then naturally to vehicle choice.
One of the tequila connoisseurs in the group interjected, “Chris, in your opinion, what is
the best vehicle for overlanding?” The side-discussions ceased, and I became the focus of all
eyes and ears. The question, “the ‘best’ vehicle for overlanding?” was fair and relevant. But for
some reason, quite possibly because of a few words printed on my business card, the answer,
my answer, would carry significant weight. I let the question sink in, gave pause for a brief moment, and said, “In my opinion…”
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The items on my personal vehicle were chosen because they have a
proven track record of durability.
The love of a 20-something’s life
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I call this my “punk kid” truck—I feel like a twenty-something when I’m behind the wheel. Heavily
modified and with 350,000 on the odometer, my
28-year friend has been all over North America
with me.
Before I reveal my response, let me share
a bit about me, my experience level, and of a
few treks I’ve done—and why, for this specific question, I consider myself an “expert”
in the field. I must be, why else would Overland
Journal, the world’s leading vehicle-based adventure magazine, have asked me to take the
wheel? If this sounds a bit on the arrogant
side, read on.
Working as an automotive-adventure journalist for the past decade, I’ve had the opportunity to drive a variety of vehicles through
some amazing places on a number of continents. You may recall my “Lost in Lesotho”
yarn (Overland Journal Summer 2011), which
detailed part of a two-month, solo trek in
Southern Africa—in an H3 HUMMER. A
few years ago I spent three weeks in eastern
Morocco—in a Land Cruiser. In 2008, my
wife and I cruised the backroads of France—
in a Land Rover. In the Land Down Under,
I’ve done multi-week treks up the East Coast,
across the Top End, and deep into the continent’s expansive red center—the vehicles: a
Toyota Troopie Wagon, 79 Series trayback Ute,
and Hilux. Going back a few years, to 1998, I
traversed much of South America in a 1978
Jeep CJ7, and did I mention a 3,000-mile jaunt
from the Mexican border to the 49th parallel
(Canada) in the Overland JK? Shall I go on…
or do you have your Wellies pulled up tight
already?
The Best Overland
Vehicle is…
Ok, here we go… the envelope please.
And the answer for “Best Vehicle for Overlanding” is…and you can quote the Omnipotent one on this, “The vehicle that keeps running.”
I’m sure that the Land Rover, Land Cruiser, Jeep, and Pinzgauer fans were pulling for
their favorite model to receive my nod. Quite
honestly, does it really matter what “I” think?
(Living with my own fragile ego, I hope it
does have some relevance.)
Each of us have enculturated and/
or inculturated biases. If you grew up toting around in a CJ7 or FJ40, there’s a good
chance you drive one as an adult. I grew up
bouncing around in the back of Ford pickups
and an IH “Cornbinder” Travelall. However,
when the Son of a Land Cruiser debuted in
1979, which was the coolest thing I’d ever
seen, I had to have one (I parted ways with
my beloved Baja bug).
Let me share with you the basis of this
“the one that keeps running” epiphany. I’ve
had a starter go “south” in the middle of the
Simpson desert, been towed 90 miles on the
end of a strap in Baja (cracked head)—followed by a broken leaf spring, u-joint and
tie rod (which sent me careening off the
road into a cactus forest). Then there was
the shattered CV joint on a remote track in
eastern Namibia… and the broken rod end
in Morocco that resulted in a moonlit barrel roll. Lest I forget performing minor surgery—vapor lock; hood removal and fuel line
reroute—in Peru with only a Leatherman
multi-tool. Enough said.
My Ride
My personal vehicle today is 2002 Toyota
Tacoma. The “why” is quite simple—I need a
truck. The Tacoma, in my humble opinion, is
one of the most “reliable” and versatile platforms for my needs. The basic set-up consists of a mild, 3-inch suspension from Icon
Vehicle Dynamics (formerly DR), Goodyear
MTRs, ARB bull bar and All-Pro rear bumper. I’ve also added an ARB compressor and
fridge/freezer, Warn 9000xd and Viking synthetic winch line. None were selected because
they were the cheapest, the most expensive,
or had the flashiest ad. These items are on my
personal vehicle because they have a proven
track record of durability. When I reach in
A bit of Collard history
Discovery Our Discovery (borrowed
from Outback Imports) fit in perfectly
in the French Alps.
Overland JK
The Overland Jeep
JK en route to Canada. The most fun
you can have on four wheels.
Tacoma Simple, clean modifications
will make your overlanding life much
more fun: My ‘02 Tacoma is fitted with
an Icon suspension, Goodyear MTR
tires, ARB bull bar, Warn 9000, Viking
winch line, Safari Snorkel, IPF lights.
Troopie
Kitted with a pop-top, 3.0
diesel and twin, 90-liter fuel tanks, this
Toyota Troop Carrier, or "Troopie" was
a reliable home-away-from-home for a
trek across Australia's Top End.
Toyota with pop-up camper
Pop-up campers add a measure of
weight and require a slightly more
relaxed pace. The tradeoff is a nearly
fully contained and very comfortable
abode once you arrive.
Land Cruiser Toyota 79 Series
Land Cruiser trayback ute in the
Australian Outback (borrowed from
ARB, this was one of my favorites rigs).
Jeep CJ7 South America, 1998 with
the Jeepers Jamboree crew. A 6,000mile trek in one of Mark Smith’s original Expedición de las Américas Jeep
CJ7s.
Mitsubishi
Hired in New Zealand's
South Island, a super comfortable
Mitsubishi L300: diesel, 4WD, pop-up,
stove, fridge and shower—we loved it.
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Vehicle choice shouldn’t be dictated by someone else’s opinion—
there are just too many fun vehicles out there.
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the fridge for a coldy on a sweltering Baja afternoon, I want it to be… a coldy. On those
few occasions that I’ve needed a winch, I really needed it.
For me, a pickup is a necessity. When
I cover events such as Overland Expo or
Moab, or simply want the luxury of quick,
dry and comfortable living space, I’ll slide my
pop-up camper on the back. If I’m heading
to Baja with my kayaks, a Leer canopy and
Yakima load bars provide a level of security
for my gear and platform for the boats. This
being said, my runaround top is a canvas SuperTop from Bestop. I’m often hauling loads
to the dump or moving equipment, and the
SuperTop peels off in about five minutes.
Prior to discovering the Tacoma, my ‘82
Son of a Land Cruiser was my overlanding daily driver for twenty years. Here’s the
ironic thing—many of the aforementioned
mechanical malfunctions can be attributed
to my beloved 350,000-mile friend. If you
asked me, I’m sure I’d argue as well as any
red-blooded Landy or Jeep owner, that a vintage Hilux was one of the best vehicles ever
produced—alas, it is semi-retired and sitting
in my garage.
Upon divulging my “best overlanding vehicle” thoughts, there were a few raised brows
of surprise, a few comments of “hmm,” and
“huh,” but ultimately there were nods of
approval. I hadn’t enlightened them on anything they didn’t already know. Put simply,
the best rig is what you choose to drive, the
one that makes you feel good from behind
the wheel—so long as it gets you there and
home again.
To some, my position may be perceived as
a lack of brand loyalty on my part. To others,
it may represent the opening of a new door—
possibly that of a VW Syncro, Sportsmobile
or EarthRoamer. Vehicle choice shouldn’t be
dictated by someone else’s opinion—there
are just too many fun vehicles out there.
I don’t know what the newest revelation
in 4WDs will be in twenty years, but I’m sure
a twenty-something kid will have one. I’ll be
an old-timer by then, tooling around in one
of those “classic” carbureted Toyotas. Then
again, I’ve always wanted a Flat Fender or a
vintage Bronco.
Left column: Side storage bins fit spares, fluids,
tools, a Hi-Lift, etc. A basic home-fabricated carpet kit: simple, cheap, ultimate utility. My gear
slides underneath and, if needed, I can sleep
above. Right Column: The Tacoma allows for a
drop-and-go office/home when shooting remote
events and I need a vehicle to get around in. Outback is an All-Pro rear bumper and Bestop canvas canopy. The ARB compressor was a handy
addition.
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NEWS FROM THE TRADE
Exploring the newest gear for overlanding
By Jeremy Edgar, Christophe Noel, Brian DeArmon, and Chris Collard
Noren Films WABDR
Video and Butler Map $15 - 25
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Grab a cup-o-Joe, pop the new WABDR video in, and kick back for a mini
vacation on the Washington Backcountry Discovery Route. Then grab Butler
Maps’ tear-resistant plastic WABDR map, and head for Washington. Working
with Touratech USA, Noren Films has created a fun and informative adventure
video. While the film is directed toward dual-sport riders, the WABDR is suitable for four-wheel drive vehicles as well. Both products are well-produced and
the Butler map contains embedded Scanfile barcodes which can be scanned
with an iPhone to access online video, photos and useful links. (CC) butlermaps.com, 877-379-6053; touratech-usa.com, 800-491-2926
Adventure Engineering
BringAlong and EZ Pull
$249 and $89
Whether you are pulling your motorcycle or ATV/
UTV out of a mud hole, hanging game in camp,
mending fences, or pretty much anything else
that requires you lift, pull, or drag something
heavier than you care to, Adventure Engineering has you covered. Their BringAlong aluminum
hand-winch is rated for 600 pounds (1,200 with
the included pulley block), and weighs a scant
2.8 pounds. With 12’ of usable spectra cord, a
pair of 1,000-pound lanyards, the pulley block,
and three carabiners, it comes with everything
you need to get the job done.
ARB Dual-motor Compressor
$545 - 875
Australian-based manufacturer ARB has
released the revolutionary CKMTA12
dual-motor unit air compressor. The
new offering, which virtually mates two
of their venerable 12-volt compressors,
churns out 6.16CFM, sports a 100-percent duty cycle, built-in cooling fan, and
like its single-motor cousin, has internal
thermal protection. It is available in
a fixed-mount or portable version
(shown), which comes in a rugged carrying case with a forged
aluminum, 4-liter tank. (CC)
arbusa.com, 866-293-9083
If the BringAlong is still too bulky, try the featherweight and compact EZ Pull. At first glance,
this block and tackle assembly looks like something your kids would use on their Tonka trucks.
After all, the entire package weighs less than
half a pound, and will easily fit in your pocket.
But don’t be fooled, this is no toy. It’s rated for
500 pounds, and thanks to its 5:1 mechanical
advantage, a single person can move an incredible amount of weight. Don’t believe us? Visit the
Adventure Engineering website to see a BMW
1200GS being lifted off the ground by a single
person. (BD) adventureengineering.com
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NEWS FROM THE TRADE
Jetboil Sumo Companion Cup
$50
The Jetboil Personal Cooking System has been a backcountry favorite since its
debut in 2003. The compact size and efficiency of the system made it a go-to for
anyone concerned with space and weight. The new Sumo Companion Cup addresses the system’s one drawback—volume. Accommodating an impressive 1.8
liters, the aptly named Sumo is nearly double the size of the original 1-liter system.
Weighing in at only 12.5 oz it’s large enough to store a 230-gram fuel cartridge and
is compatible with Jetboil’s GCS, Sol, Zip and Flash cooking systems. True to the
original, it employs Jetboil’s revolutionary FluxRing as well as a transparent drinkthrough lid, neoprene insulator, and bottom cover which doubles as a measuring
cup or bowl. (CN) jetboil.com, 888-611-9905
Snow Peak Kanpai 500
Insulated Bottle $79
This tri-purpose insulated wonder sets new standards for insulated beverage
containers. The vacuum-sealed, double-walled, stainless steel canister holds
17 ounces of hot or cold liquids or soup, and comes with three lids: cold, hot
and one for drinking. Using the cold lid (previously frozen), the Kanpai 500
will keep a 39°F beverage cold for six hours (43°F final temp at 68°F ambient
temperature), (Hot specs: 203°F to 140°F at 80°F). Want a cold soda at the end
of the trail? The Kanpai 500 will accommodate a 16-ounce beverage can. (CC)
snowpeak.com, 503-697-3330
22
EarthRoamer
Approved for Canada
EarthRoamer vehicles have long been revered as exemplary expedition platforms—Overland Journal Publisher Scott Brady drove one
to the edge of the Darien Gap during his Ends of the Earth expedition. After extended testing and documentation, EarthRoamer’s
Ford F-550 XV-LT has been approved for import to Canada. The
one-piece molded composite shell and rugged F-550 base platform
passed the country’s strict Canadian Motor Vehicle Safety Standards (CMVSS). (CC) earthroamer.com, 303-833-7330
NEWS FROM THE TRADE
Sierra Expeditions LR
Rock Sliders $800
Fabricated by Sierra Expeditions in Arizona, these rock sliders will
provide protection for a Land Rover LR3 or LR4 far beyond what
the stock trim can offer. Installation is simple, and no drilling or
cutting is required. The sliders are made of .375-inch (7-gauge) coldrolled steel, and bolt directly to factory mounting points. Mounting
bolts are recessed, so as not to incur damage while sliding over obstacles. An optional tubular kick-out ($300 extra) allows for safer use
of a Hi-Lift, in addition to functioning as a step for accessing a roof
rack or roof tent. (JE) sierraexpeditions.com, 866-507-4254
Jet Bag $15 for a 3-pack
Anyone who has experienced a broken bottle of fluids while traveling knows it’s not fun—not only because of the loss of the precious
liquid, but also the damage to clothing, electronics, etc. Originally
designed for airline travel, the Jet Bag not only provides padding and
protection for a glass container, but also absorbs up to 750 ml of
fluid should breakage occur. This biodegradable bag employs a reusable zip-seal closure as well as carrying handles. What better way
to protect that special bottle of wine, Scotch or tequila in your drawer
system or pannier while traveling over endless corrugated roads in
the far reaches of the world? (JE) thejetbag.com, 248-891-8939
Snow Peak Hozuki
LED Lantern $90
I used the Hozuki on a barebones bike trip in northern Nevada this month (ok, I also
brought it camping on my sailboat) and was pleasantly impressed. Hozuki received
its name from a plant used in making Chinese paper lanterns, and certainly does
the ancient illuminators justice. With three intensity settings (and a flicker mode for
romantic candlelight effects), the 4-inch silicon rubber dome transmits a smooth,
360-degree pattern as well as a direct vertical beam. Specs: 4 AA batteries, 100 lumens, 8/20/80 hour on high/medium/low. (CC) snowpeak.com, 503-697-3330
23
Review
NEWS FROM THE TRADE
By Christophe Noel
Kayland Vertigo LT Dual-Sport Boots
$180
F
or backcountry travelers, proper footwear is as important as any
other piece of kit. Unfortunately, the requirements overlanders
have for their footwear are often in conflict, making the search
for a good pair of boots a challenge. In the field, proper footwear
must be light, yet durable; comfortable, but also supportive. Waterproofing
is nice, but only if it breathes well. There may never be a perfect boot for
everything, including overlanding, but the Italian Kayland Vertigo LT is
certainly worth a closer look.
Kayland may not be the most well-known name in boots, but their reputation for excellence is no secret. Headquartered in Italy at the base of
the Dolomite Mountains, most of their creations are put to hard work by
discerning climbers and backpackers. Here in North America, the Kayland
brand has received numerous awards including a three-time Guide’s Choice
award by the illustrious American Alpine Institute. The typical Kayland
boot is a complex mix of modern materials and construction methods
paired with old-world passion and experience.
24
The typical Kayland boot is a
complex mix of modern materials and
construction methods paired with oldworld passion and experience.
The original award-winning Vertigo, a full-leather model, has been around
for several years. This year, Kayland introduced the lighter-weight Vertigo
LT with a full nylon upper. For the overlander, the Vertigo LT in full nylon
is the easy choice of the two boots. Leather is often the preferred material,
in large part for aesthetic reasons, but the LT’s nylon uppers are light, unusually durable, and unrivaled for breathability. Adding to these redeeming
attributes is an unexpected component—coconuts. The material Cocona®
is an activated carbon fiber derived from coconut shells—Cocona® in the
boot’s lining aids in moisture absorption and transference, resulting in dryer, cooler feet. Not to dismiss the science of coconuts and happy feet, but
let’s just say it works, and it works very well. Since most overlanders spend
much of the day with their feet stuffed deep in a vehicle’s hot footwell, this
is a welcomed feature.
On the trail, the Vertigo LT reveals its heritage. The low-profile tread of
a Vibram® sole affords unencumbered control of accelerator and brake
pedals and feels even better on terra firma. The climbing-boot-inspired lacing is snug and uniformly tensioned, and uses infallible lace holes instead
of riveted hardware. The medium stiffness of the midsole is comfortable
underfoot, and more than enough to accommodate a hiker and 30 pound
pack. The eVent® liner insures protection from the elements and maintains the boot’s breathability objectives. Fully synthetic, the eVent® liner is
proven to keep water out, even when faced with stream crossings and wet
days on snowshoes. As one would expect from the product of master boot
makers, the Vertigo LT offers surprising latitude when it comes to fit. Not
to forget another important criterion for boot selection, the aesthetics of
the Vertigo LT fit the bill for a quality piece of kit—maybe we should have
started with that. kaylandusa.com, 603-758-6486
Black Diamond LED Lanterns
$30, $50, $80
B
lack Diamond may have made a name for themselves as industry leaders in climbing and backcountry ski equipment, but their
collection of headlamps and LED lanterns is equally impressive.
The headlamp will forever have a place in the backcountry, but
for many of us there is nothing more annoying than a campsite full of
bobble-headed camp mates with light emitting diodes bursting from their
foreheads like a scene from an H.G. Wells novel. What many prefer is the
soothing ambient glow from a well-positioned lantern.
Orbit The Black Diamond family of lanterns starts with the diminutive
Orbit lantern. At 3 ounces, and only 4 inches tall when collapsed, this tiny
light easily slips into a jacket pocket. When powered up, four AAA batteries
produce a surprisingly bright 45 lumens for up to 15 hours, and 10 lumens
for up to 24 hours. The frosted globe common to all Black Diamond lanterns creates a mild, diffused light, and the single control button serves as
the dimmer switch giving users infinite control of brightness to conserve
battery life. The Orbit is also compatible with Black Diamond’s NRG rechargeable battery system, which can be charged via a wall charger, or 12volt car charger.
Apollo The Apollo lantern is next in line with a slightly larger size than
the Orbit. At 7.8 ounces and only 6 inches tall when collapsed, the Apollo is
an obvious choice for weight-conscious overlanders on bicycles or motorcycles. With the addition of extendable legs, the Apollo rises to 9 inches tall
and generates an evenly dispersed 80 lumens at the maximum setting. The
lowest setting will endure for up to 60 hours on four AA batteries, or with
the NRG rechargeable battery. The Apollo also has infinite dimming as well
as a three-stage battery life indicator.
All three lanterns are available in an
assortment of colors and feature an
ingeniously simple double-hook to facilitate
hanging the lanterns where needed.
Titan With a name like Titan, you would be correct to assume this is
the largest of the three lanterns, and it lives up to its name. This is not a
lightweight light, at a pound and a half, but it does deliver an impressive 250
lumens. On the lowest setting, the four D batteries offer enough light for
even the most protracted game of Risk or Monopoly, up to 168 hours. The
Titan also features a battery life indicator, diffused globe, infinite dimming,
but is the only lantern of the three not compatible with Black Diamond’s
NRG rechargeable battery system.
All three lanterns are available in an assortment of colors and feature an
ingeniously simple double-hook to facilitate hanging the lanterns where
needed. The only misstep is how Black Diamond managed to produce three
lamps named Orbit, Apollo and Titan, and missed the opportunity to name
at least one of them, Sputnik. blackdiamondequipment.com, 801-278-5533
25
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OVERLAND NEWS
Showcasing expedition travelers and resources from around the globe
By Chris Collard
Seventy Years of the Seven Slot Grille
I
n 1903, while working for the Standard Wheel Company, Claud Cox founded a small
‘horseless carriage’ company called Overland Automobile. It was the beginning of
an overlanding adventure, which to date spans seven decades and has inspired millions. John North Willys purchased the company in 1908, renamed it Willys-Overland, and led the company to become the second largest American auto manufacturer in
America. With America’s inevitable entry into WWII, the U.S. Government was in need of
a light reconnaissance vehicle to replace the military’s ill-equipped fleet of modified Ford
Model-Ts. Their specifications defined a vehicle platform that defied anything in production—and they needed it in short order.
American Bantam and Willys-Overland were the two companies that answered the call,
followed shortly by Ford. The race to win the lucrative government contract ran at a frantic
pace, right up to the 49th day, September 23, 1940, when Bantam rolled out its hand-built
prototype, the BRC. The Willys-Overland Quad arrived on November 13, followed by
Ford’s GP. The three companies were commissioned to produce 70 vehicles, followed by
an additional 1,500 units for field-testing. When the dust settled on the Camp Holabrid,
Maryland, testing grounds, Willys-Overland, with its impressive 60 hp “Go Devil” engine,
was handed the contract.
As you thumb through this issue of Overland Journal, seventy years have passed since the
first production Jeeps were delivered. When Overland Journal received an invitation to join
Mopar’s Jeep historian Brand Rosenberg in Moab, Utah, and drive some of these historic
vehicles—as well as Jeep’s newest offerings—we were honored to accept.
Courtesy of MOPAR
There are mixed theories as to where and how the “Jeep” designation evolved. Some claim
it was a slurred abbreviation of the Ford GP (General Purpose), while others argue it
sprung from a gravity-defying character in 1930s Popeye cartoons, “Eugene the Jeep.”
Whatever the origin, the U.S. Military, the American public, and the world have embraced
this moniker, and it quickly became part of the international lexicon.
The first civilian Jeep and a new Jeep Wrangler. During WWII, Ford produced the Willys under contract from
Willys-Overland Company.
Jeeps, in their various forms, have been used for everything from mail delivery trucks, personal carriers and mobile artillery deployment, to farm implements, tow and fire trucks—
and have been offered with two or four doors, as wagons, pickups, cab-over utility, and
luxury sport-utility versions. By conventional definition, the Jeep is no stranger to overland
travel; what we would expect from any company with the word Overland as its surname.
Jeeps quite likely, if you include the half-million-plus MB flat fenders slogging through the
planet’s harshest environs during WWII, may have logged in more off-pavement miles
than any other vehicle. Sporting olive-drab paint, fold-down windscreens, shovel and axe
mounts on the side, and a rifle rack above the instrument panel, the Willys Jeep has long
been considered a key element in winning WWII.
The Jeep breed changed ownership a number of times in its first seven decades; sold to
Henry J. Kaiser in 1953, then to AMC, and ultimately to Chrysler, which has also had
its share of owners and is now held by Fiat. I recently had dinner with Mike Manley, President and CEO of Jeep. The conversation spun from flat fenders and Wranglers, to family
and personal goals—and eventually back to the current goals of Jeep. I was impressed with
his heartfelt dedication to customer satisfaction and personal convictions about product
quality.
27
28
OVERLAND NEWS
Showcasing expedition travelers and resources from around the globe
Claud Cox hit the mark when he chose the Overland designation for his fledging automobile company—he could
have only dreamed that over a century later it would still
be inspiring the world. In Moab, in addition to driving
the new Grand Cherokee and Wrangler, I spent my spare
hours behind the wheel of a specimen of American automotive history, an OD green 1942 MB. Brandt wouldn’t
let me drive it back to California, so I just tooled around
the ranch—working the three-on-the-floor shifter, sliding around on the non-adjustable flat canvas seat, and enjoying the view with the windscreen folded down on the
hood. It felt good…
They say “The Sun Never Sets on the Mighty Jeep,” and
after seventy years of service in every sovereign nation
on the planet, I am anxious to see what the next seven
decades bring—I’m sure it will have a seven slot grille.
Courtesy of MOPAR
Overland Journal has had the Jeep JK Overland, one of
Jeep’s Underground Engineering creations, on loan for
over two years. It has performed flawlessly and been a
pleasure to drive (I’ve personally put over 5,000 miles on
the vehicle’s odometer). As I write this column I’m preparing to attend the launch of the 2012 Wrangler (which
sports the new 3.6-liter Pentastar V6) on the Rubicon
Trail. With guys like Brandt Rosenberg keeping Jeep’s
Heritage alive, Chief Designer Mark Allen preserving
the aesthetic appeal of the seven slot grille, Mike Manley
providing direction (all of whom are avid 4WD enthusiasts), I’m looking forward to Jeep’s latest overland offering.
From its introduction to the public in the 1940s, Jeep has enjoyed a reputation as the ultimate utility vehicle. Above left to right: The military-spec MB has
probably logged more combine overland miles that any other vehicle to date. In 1945, Willys-Overland introduced the CJ-2A (left rear), a civilian version of the
MB. Minor changes included moving the spare tire to the side, a three-on-the-tree shifter, and side-mounted fuel filler.
29
Abenteuer and Allrad Show 2011
Europe’s largest overland show inspires thousands
By Christian Pelletier and Persephone Crittenden
Photography by Matthew Scott
1.
3.
I
30
2.
1. This vehicle would probably serve you better in the Canadian taiga for a
snowmobile rally. 2. Expedition Cabin of Germany performs overland conversions on a dozen different chassis. 3. A unique Land Rover Defender creation will allow you to go fast in forward or reverse.
The place where all overland travelers
start and finish their journey. The place
where the dreams begin and stay alive.
t seems that if we have the good fortune of finding ourselves at home for a spell, it’s not uncommon to spend
large portions of our time searching the Internet for our
next destination, vehicle or piece of gear. It inspires us to
plan our next adventure. Overland Journal and Expedition Portal are
at the forefront of delivering this inspiration, and Overland Expo
lets us ogle over the newest bits of kit. Expo is great, but if you
are in Europe and need your fix of overlanding mania, we have you
covered.
The “Abenteuer and Allrad” (adventure and all-wheel drive)
show, which takes place in Bad Kissingen, Germany each summer,
is by far the largest gathering of overlanders on the planet. After
the inaugural event 12 years ago, the show has continued to grow
each year, attracting about 54,000 visitors in 2011.
We first heard of this event while chatting with others around
a campfire in a remote corner of southern Ethiopia. At that time,
we were on the final leg of a five-year, 50,000 km journey around
the world—in our trusty, if slightly beat-up, 1988 Land Cruiser
HJ75 pop-top. Someone mentioned the Allrad gathering in Germany and urged us to attend. The grand claim was, “That’s where
all overland travelers start and finish their journey. That’s where the
dreams begin and stay alive.” We gave each other a knowing look
that confirmed our eventual attendance.
31
Bad Kissingen
1.
32
2.
3.
1. The diesel Jeep JK is widely available in Europe. 2. The 70 Series Land
Cruiser, when properly modified, is considered by some to be the best overlanding vehicle on the market. 3. Two great models side-by-side, representing Land Rover's latest offerings.
The event consists of two areas, one for exhibitors and one for
camping, and has a fairly informal nature. While the exhibitor area is
expansive and hosts hundreds of vendors, you can just as easily get lost
and spend hours, if not days, wandering through the impressive rows
of overlanding vehicles in the campground.
Allrad is quite different than Overland Expo in that there isn’t
a set agenda of classes, presentations, or trainings. There is a Land
Rover training course and other 4WD activities, but no specific assignments—just show up and go for a class or tour.
What makes this event unique is the grand scale—number of vehicles, travelers, and manufacturers. There are literally hundreds of
vendors and thousands of displays representing just about anything
and everything available on earth. It is interesting to witness the development of numerous grassroots overlanding innovations. Some are
as basic as a better latch for securing gear; others are as technical as
solar arrays and dual-battery electronics. Whether you are looking for
the latest development in portal axles for your G-Wagen or a pop-top
conversion for your Land Cruiser, you will find it here. There were
also a number of vehicles unavailable in North America—such as the
new Volkswagen Amarok, the “still available in Germany” Lada Niva,
diesel Jeep JK Wranglers and 78 Series Toyota Land Cruisers.
If you have technical, navigational or gear questions, manufacturers large and small were onsite to demonstrate their wares and provide
detailed answers to your inquiries—thanks also to German “savoirfaire.” Beyond the sheer size of the event and variety of vehicles, we
found that it is the people who make Allrad and the overlanding community so great. With several thousand attendees in the camping area,
many of them having already completed significant journeys across
the globe, you can acquire any information for your next trip to Iceland or Mongolia by walking the aisles and asking questions. Be aware
though, it’s likely that you will run into an old friend, and end up eating
German sausages, and sipping Kölsch all night.
Whether your passion is for travel, adventure, vehicles, gear, or all
of the above, this is the place. After a few days (and nearly wearing out
a pair of shoes), we thought back to our friends in Ethiopia, and the
claim made that night around the campfire…
It would be an understatement to say that this show is anything
less than inspiring. If you find yourself in Germany and in need of an
overlanding fix, or simply want a unique experience in a beautiful setting, be sure to add Allrad to your bucket list.
1.
4.
33
2.
5.
3.
6.
1. The VW Amarok was surprisingly common and available in various configurations, such as this Tischer slide-on camper. 2. TreKK, the Front Runner European distributor, displayed their expedition-ready Defender. 3. Unimog with a self-contained Unicat Cell. 4. Roof Lodge roof top tent on a Defender. 5. With a
fully removable roof, the Land Rover Defender has become increasingly popular for pop-top conversion. 6. This Scania truck has been given a special carpet
treatment on the camper cell.
5.
9.
6.
1.
7.
2.
10.
3.
11.
34
4.
8.
12.
1. OzTent’s new line of camp chairs. 2. The TreKK Defender featured this custom storage cabinet behind a Front Runner replacement window panel. 3. Cooking table made of sand ladder lashed to a Defender. 4. IBS displayed their line of dual-battery electronics systems. 5. Tibus Offroad Engineering offers a
15,000 lb., 15.5 hp, dual-motor winch. 6. Nice hideaway stove/sink combo. 7. Believe it or not, there is a trailer behind this tent castle. 8. Need a street-legal
quad for your next Africa trek? Slip it in the garage. 9. A new tubeless tire from Ranger. 10. Vendors from all compass points were on hand to display their
wares (National Luna 40L). 11. Dual-purpose sand ladder/camp table combo. 12. Portal axle for a Defender from Tibus.
You can acquire any information for your next trip to Iceland or
Mongolia by walking the aisles and asking questions.
1.
4.
35
2.
5.
3.
6.
1. A diesel Mitsubishi with full camping cell conversion 2. Defender 110 prepped for the Grand Erg Africa Rally (postponed until 2012). 3. Dual-sport riders from
around the globe attended the show. 4. Another great example of a G-Wagen converted with a pop-top. 5. A VW Amorak with a North American Northstar
pop-top camper. 6. The folks at Desert-Tec offer fully-kitted Toyota HJZ78 Land Cruisers.
Whether your passion is for travel,
adventure, vehicles, gear, or all of the above,
the Abenteur and Allrad show is the place.
1.
36
2.
4.
3.
5.
1. The early Daihatsu 4WD had a striking resemblance to the Jeep. 2. This 70s era VW Beetle has been stretched and mounted on an 80 Series Land Cruiser
frame. 3. This custom-made, four-door Lava attracted well deserved attention. 4. This G-Wagen was given a full-size cell, making it an extremely well balanced
vehicle. 5. The “Geocar Cabin” from Extreme (in Germany) weighs just 620 lbs. and fits on the Toyota Tundra.
37
38
Behind the
Iron Curtain
Six French co-eds, a
pair of Citroëns, and
a road trip through
Cold War Russia.
By Åsa Björklund
Photography by Claude Mischler, André
Augé, Jean Berger, Jean-Pierre Cautru,
Pierre Huart, and Serge Le Danois.
39
40
In a campground near Kiev, the group celebrated French National Day with music and local vodka. Opposite: Pulled over for a police
motorcade in Kiev. Previous page: Though
parking was prohibited in Red Square, the
defiant Frenchmen decided to take photos for
the benefit of their sponsors.
T
41
he snow had melted and left the Swiss Alps pinching the sky with their
green spears. On a steep hillside, two bug-like vehicles overloaded with
luggage had just struggled up the switchback of the ascending mountain
road in first gear. Inside, six Frenchmen sighed in relief; they had somehow
reached the mountain pass and begun rolling down the other side. Another
collective sigh, the brakes worked. So far, the first day of traveling was running smoothly. Now they had only some 14,000 km (8,700 miles) to go…
All in their early twenties, the six travelers—Claude Mischler, André
Augé, Jean Berger, Jean-Pierre Cautru, Pierre Huart, and Serge Le Danois—had decided to drive from France to Moscow and back during their
summer break from college. An expedition of this type in today’s world is not an extraordinary feat. But
the year was 1961, at the height of the Cold War, and their vehicles of choice were two Citroën 2CVs (pronounced Duh-shuv-vuh)—bizarre little cars that usually triggered more smiles than horsepower.
The political tension between East and West was on the rise, and only weeks later would culminate in the
Soviet Union building of the Berlin Wall—separating German families and blocking ideological exchange
for decades to come. At the time, some Europeans did not know much about communism, but many in
the West feared it greatly. “Nobody knew exactly what happened [in the USSR], what it was all about. Some
politicians and other people had traveled there, but they were very few. We said, ‘we’ll see what it’s like,’” said
Claude Mischler, one of the six young students. In fact, the USSR had only recently opened the country for
Western tourism. Fifty years later, Claude lives in Arizona, but the expedition remains a vivid memory.
42
To get to the shared bathroom, they had to walk through long, quiet hallways, under the strict eye of
the housekeeper, who zealously noted down each time the Frenchmen entered or left their rooms.
It had taken six months to prepare visas and other paperwork for
the trip. While the bureaucracies of the Eastern European countries
were infamous for their entry requirements, access to the USSR had
been particularly difficult. Tourism in the region was in its infancy, and
the authorities treated all Westerners with suspicion. Travelers had to
submit to the Embassy a detailed itinerary for their trip—and no deviations would be tolerated.
“Initially we wanted to go to Samarkand [now in Uzbekistan] and a
bit further,” said Claude. “But they told us there wasn’t any point in asking. It simply wasn’t allowed.”
The alternative was to head to Moscow. After crossing Western
Europe and former Yugoslavia—where donkey-drawn wagons were
the traveling fashion and outnumbered automobiles—the Frenchmen
arrived in Istanbul where they would take the ferry to Odessa, in the
USSR. Shuffling through customs and immigration at the port, they
submitted their paperwork to Soviet officials, who examined carefully—meanwhile, their two cars dangled precariously in the air as a crane
hoisted them onboard the splendid ship “Litva.”
Because they were on a tight budget, the group had arranged
fourth-class passage with the Soviet tourist agency, Intourist. Despite
their miserly intentions, upon arrival they were informed that tourists
were required to travel in first class according to Soviet rules. André
Augé, the appointed cashier, ground his teeth as he handed over the
tariff. On the positive side, the first class fare, and associated onboard
meal privileges, granted them a culinary upgrade from their routine diet
of cold sandwiches—the ship’s chef served an abundance of Russian
caviar, smoked salmon and regional Champagne…
At Odessa, they said goodbye to the Russian jet-set life on“Litva”and
stepped on Soviet ground for the first time. According to their travel
permits, they were required to report to the Intourist offices at each
stage of their approved itinerary. The Intourist employees in Odessa
informed them that there was no campground in town and recommended they reboard the ship again and go to the next city, 400 km (250
miles) away. Without a better choice, the travelers opted for Odessa’s
only hotel that allowed foreigners. Far too pricey for most Russians, hotel
lodging was a ripoff even for tourists. The stately entrance ornamented
in marble and gold promised an experience to rival the luxurious accommodations of the “Litva.” Once inside, the spartan accommodations knocked them back into reality—the wrought iron beds were better suited for a medieval hospital, and the thick, dusty curtains induced
severe coughing attacks. To get to the shared bathroom, they had to
walk through long, quiet hallways, under the strict eye of the house-
keeper, who zealously noted down each time the Frenchmen entered or
left their rooms. “I guess she reported our movements to the authorities,”
said Claude, smiling.
Departing the suffocating prison walls in the morning, they discovered that a curious crowd of people, surprised to see vehicles from so
far away, had gathered around the Citroëns. A young man stepped from
the crowd, addressing them in fluent French. His name was George, and
French-born to Armenian parents. His interest in the group and flowing
hospitality was a welcome respite from their first few days in-country.
George took his French guests to dance the Mazurka at Odessa’s openair dance palace, and drink “Kvas” (an innovative elaboration of fermented toasted bread…) on the beach. It would be the beginning of a
lifelong friendship.
George desperately wanted to return to France, but his family had
fallen victim to the same trickery as many Armenians in the region. After
WWII, Armenians who had immigrated to Europe were invited back,
the Soviets promising a life of heaven and beyond. When George and
his father arrived, it was immediately clear that the USSR was far from
paradise. It was too late—the Soviet authorities immediately confiscated
their French passports. For several years, George had tried in vain to
return to his native country.
“We took all the information about him and when we came back
home we started asking the authorities about his case,” said Claude. “After four or five years, he managed to come back to France. He came to
Besançon, our hometown, and got a job there.”
During the sightseeing tour in Odessa, George always wore dark
sunglasses and preferred meeting inside rather than in public—only a
couple of years previous, talking to foreigners was strictly prohibited.
People still feared the possibility of informers watching them in public,
and often would mirror George’s patterns, a behavior to which the travelers would soon grow accustomed. Nevertheless, many curious Russians approached them during the following weeks to ask about life in
the West. It had been just a year since the Bay of Pigs invasion, and a year
later, the Cuban Missile Crisis would unfold. Despite the escalating fear
of “communists” in the West, the Russian people seemed to fear their
government more than they did Westerners.
“I don’t think they had much information about what was going on
in the world,” said Claude. “They were very surprised to see young people like us doing a trip like we did. The tourism concept hardly existed.
Some had a place where they could spend holidays because they worked
in a factory that had an agreement with another town, such as Sochi,
or on the Caspian Sea, so they could go there on a holiday paid by the
employer.”
When traveling, most Russians could only afford to stay at campgrounds. Run by the government, campgrounds were vast areas with
identical tents set up, one next to the other on wooden platforms. If you
wanted to go Soviet deluxe, you could even get a tent with real beds. It
was in these communist-era campgrounds and cheap self-service restaurants that the French expedition became familiar with many of the
Russian people.
“When people heard that we spoke French they would go and get
somebody who knew the language so we could speak,” said Claude.
Even the government employees were generally friendly, and though
they would initially seem to strictly enforce the established rules, they
Curious locals gathered around the little Citroëns everywhere they stopped.
Wooden-floored tents at a campground in Skopje, Macedonia. Visiting the Hagia Sophia Mosque in Istanbul, Turkey. Opposite: The cars were lifted on board
the ship “Litva,” that would take the team from Istanbul to Odessa, USSR.
43
When we left Odessa, two policemen riding a motorcycle with a sidecar followed
us to Kiev, stopping whenever we did.
44
would usually make exceptions when it was convenient. Before leaving
Odessa, the group was informed by police that according to their visa,
an officer should accompany them in their cars. “We showed them that
unless he (the officer) wouldn’t mind sitting on the hood he didn’t stand
a chance,” said Claude and laughed. “So when we left Odessa, two policemen riding a motorcycle with a sidecar followed us to Kiev, stopping
whenever we did. Then we didn’t see them anymore.”
On some occasions, pure stubbornness proved the best way to deal
with Iron Curtain bureaucracy. Upon attempting to exit the USSR, they
were informed by border police that it would not be permitted. They were
missing their Laissez-passer documents—which had been stolen from
their car in Moscow. The border police had to check with Odessa, the
port of entry. After several hours of waiting, and fed-up with the continued eastern-block incompetence, the Frenchmen decided to camp
out in the border police’s office building.
“The next morning they had to navigate around our sleeping bags
to open their office doors. I think they noticed we wouldn’t give up, so
they simply let us go—without Odessa’s confirmation,” said expedition
member André Augé.
Encounters with Soviet authorities resulted in mixed outcomes, and
they never knew which way it would turn. While passing though Moscow, they navigated through a maze of drab grey buildings to the center
of Red Square, where they stopped to take in the sights and centuriesold Russian architecture. They gazed at Saint Basil’s Cathedral, across
a dizzying expanse of hand-laid stone. Little did they know that parking in Red Square was strictly prohibited. “There were only two cars on the
Red Square—ours. There was a very long queue of people waiting to
visit the Lenin and Stalin mausoleums. Half an hour later, there wasn’t
any queue for the mausoleum anymore—all the people were standing
around our car,” Claude said with a chuckle. When it was time to go,
one of the vehicles wouldn’t start. The six Frenchmen were in the process of jumpstarting the dead battery as hundreds of curious spectators
gathered around to admire the foreigners’ exotic cars. This is when the
police arrived. Claude continued, “But we explained that we were taking
photos and when we showed them the cars and their engines, they were
happy.”
Other run-in encounters with Soviet law were not as pleasant. Outside Kiev, large identical housing projects sprawled from the city, eventually giving way to miles of wheat fields run by the Soviet farming cooperative Kolkhoz. The impeccably manicured highways were basically
empty, and the drivers pushed the 2CVs to their maximum speed, about
100 km/h (60 mph). Deviating from the highway towards their next
itinerary-required destination, they found the road increasingly rough.
The group had covered some 150 km (100 miles) before they realized
that they were driving on a prohibited road and it was nowhere near their
destination. Turning back towards Kiev, they knew they would have an
issue with fuel—The 2CV had a tank of only 20 liters (5.5 gallons).
Navigating the deteriorating roadway, the first car stopped abruptly
with a nasty thump, tilting sideways like the Titanic and raising its back
end. One of the front wheels had been swallowed by an unmarked, open
sewage manhole. Fortunately, no major damage was done and twelve
strong arms were all that was needed to lift the vehicle to terra frima.
Midway back to Kiev they arrived at the single gas station on the highway—only to see the “Closed” sign dangling on the door. It was Sunday
and the next station was in Kiev, over 50 km (30 miles) away.
Though they carried an extra can of gas, it was not enough for both
cars. It became evident that only one vehicle would be returning to Kiev.
Behind schedule, they could face significant consequences for not following their established itinerary. As a result, Claude, Jean and Pierre
shook the jerry can’s last drops into their tank and set off to find fuel.
The other car continued on until the tank dried up near the outskirts of
town. As Serge, Jean-Pierre and André waited for the first car, the hours
passed. Their patience grew thinner and thinner. Were the others dancing the Mazurka and drinking vodka? Little did they know, the gas stations in the city were also closed—still Sunday. The fuel reconnaissance
team managed to find a friendly Kolkhoz truck driver who sold them
needed fuel for next to nothing. Problem solved, they thought.
On the way back to save their friends, they stopped on a bridge to
take a photo of a funny propaganda sign. In less than a minute, policemen on motorcycles surrounded their car. Bridges, being of sensitive
military interest, were apparently illegal to photograph. The group received a private escort to the city’s campground where they were interrogated for several hours. It was decided that the Western “spies” were
to be set free, but requested to leave Kiev immediately. It was 8 p.m.
They still had to locate their friends and drive 400 km (250 miles) to
comply, once again, with the established itinerary.
The various run-ins with the law, including being interrogated and
kicked out of Kiev, didn’t hinder the group from taking a few liberties.
While in Moscow, they made an interesting acquaintance with a student
who made his living selling Russian icons to tourists. In his spare time
was planning nothing less than a revolution against the Soviet regime.
Though he failed to engage the fab Frenchmen in either of his dubious
activities, he convinced them to visit the enigmatic Zagorsk monastery
near Moscow.
The Intourist office, however, had denied them permission. Enthused by the accounts of the celebrated place, they secretly slipped
45
Parked across from Saint Basil’s Cathedral in Moscow’s Red Square. Opposite clockwise from top left: The hero of the time, cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin was
the first human being to journey into outer space. The sign reads: “Glory to Yuri Gagarin, the pioneer who opened space.” Matronly ladies in a small town in
Albania. A rainy day between Kiev and Kharkov, USSR. Near Skopje in Yugoslavia, traveling performers went from village to village, exchanging room and
board for exhibitions of a dancing bear.
Less than two weeks later, East Germany would close its border with the West
and begin building the Berlin Wall.
46
away from city campground at dawn with their new Russian comrade.
Several forests lined the road to Zagorsk. The first was of dense pine
and fir trees, the second was a plethora of television antennae sprouting from the rooftops of a dozen impoverished villages that lined the
route. Buried at Zagorsk in 1338, Saint Sergius’ body rested under the
stone church, which is surrounded by 13 other churches—all with blue,
onion-shaped domes with gold stars. As for the other visitors, the Orthodox Church did not attract the young and healthy. The monastery
seemed to be hosting a national gathering of wrinkly hunchbacks . . .
Though it was a high-risk day trip, the history and beauty of Zagorsk left a lasting impression on the group. “It was really worth it. It
was a place where they never saw foreigners because they weren’t allowed to go there,” said Claude.
A few hours after leaving, they stopped for a picnic on a small
country road. Mid-meal, the silence was broken by the crackling pop
of machinegun fire. Had somebody found out about the illegal detour
to Zagorsk? Maybe they had taken the Soviet law enforcement a tad
too lightly? To the shrieking noise of car tires, various military trucks
surrounded the surprised party. A stern-faced officer stepped out of a
truck, approaching the group hastily, and angrily querying their intentions. They addressed him in French, only to be interrupted in the same
language. They had stopped, again, in an area of military importance—
though this time it was an actual military base. In addition to speaking
French, he apparently understood the French obsession with eating
well. Calming down eventually, instead of carting them off to a dark
and stuffy interrogation room, he simply urged them to avoid future
picnics in the area.
In addition to Zagorsk, Leningrad (now Saint Petersburg) was a
highlight of the trip. As the old capital of the Russian empire, the city
boasts a treasure of stunning buildings and airy parks. “If there is one
place where you have to go, it’s Saint Petersburg because there are reOverland Journal Fall 2011
ally remarkable things to see there. The churches were well maintained,
simply extraordinary,” said Claude.
No male-dominated expedition is complete without some good
old foolhardiness, and André carried the burden in this department. “I
filmed a submarine at the dock in Leningrad with my American video
camera, whose film could only be developed in the United States. This
little feat could have cost me a life sentence,” said André.
In Leningrad, as in the other Soviet cities, the group was surprised
to see women driving the subways and buses. Even in the countryside,
women drove trucks and worked with road construction crews, which
was not common in Western Europe in the early 1960s. It was a socialist era where “work” was one of the core communist pillars—women
were no exception to this concept. Around the country, on billboards,
posters and in newspaper were ads encouraging hard labor, women and
men working side by side. To make sure the citizens got the message,
the propaganda message crackled regularly through loudspeakers in
public places, and even in gas stations and campgrounds. With the final border crossing and associated paper chase, the expedition departed the USSR. They carried with them fond memories
and experiences most Westerners would never know. They’d also witnessed firsthand the suppressing control and fear the Soviet Socialist
government could impose on its populous. “Only two states in the world are
not subject to foreign powers–all other countries are influenced by either the United
States or the USSR. This nation has maintained its own personality. People have
suffered tremendously. The last war cost them 17 million lives. I think it is a fundamentally pacific people,” wrote André in the travel diary.
Entering Poland was like being transported to another planet.
Though the country had been devastated by the war, the people were
generally cheerful and welcoming. After the enormous Kolkhoz cooperatives of the USSR, eastern Poland’s quaint farms and agrarian landscape proved a refreshing change.
One morning, they stopped to assist a man lying on the side of the
road, face covered in blood and bicycle beside him. The man was unconscious and they were sure he needed urgent care. They waved down
a couple of Polish farmers, also on bikes, but the farmers merely smiled
and made a gesture, as if tipping a bottle. It seemed the Poles had a similar national past-time to the Russians, the bottle. Closer examination
revealed the man was so drunk he had passed out and fell off his bike.
“Then we understood why we say ‘drunk as a Pole’ in France,” said André. A midday lunch with some new Polish friends confirmed the theory—no matter the time of the day, vodka was the beverage of choice.
It had been only sixteen years since the end of World War II, and
Eastern Europe was on a slow road to recovery. In Warsaw, scars of
the numerous military campaigns still marred the city. Bomb-ravaged
remains of historic buildings, houses and factories buildings stood as
stark reminders of the horrors of war.
The escalating Berlin Crisis served as another reminder of the current power struggle between the two superpowers. While Western and
Soviet leaders argued bitterly over the future of Berlin and its occupational status, the French expedition rolled into East Berlin. The feel was
more like that of the USSR, a grey cloud suppressing the mood of the
city. Simple things like shopping for supplies proved to be an arduous
task. After clearing a shop’s zealous array of paperwork, apparently to
allow access to the store, they discovered limited goods and basically
nothing worth buying.
Despite the turmoil and political undercurrents, heightened security
measures within the eastern portion of the partitioned city seemed lax
and relatively non-existent. However, the landscape had changed drastically as they entered the West Berlin. Surrounded by American cars,
well-stocked stores, street-side cafes, and prosperity, it was again as if
they’d been transported to another planet. The day was August 1, 1961.
Less than two weeks later, East Germany would close its border with
the West and begin building the Berlin Wall, and thus dividing Germany
for almost three decades to come.
Czechoslovakia would be the final communist state the group
would visit on their return to France. After almost 14,000 km (8,700
miles) through 14 countries, the expedition was coming to an end. The
two Citroen 2CVs, while not typical expedition vehicles, had performed
well. Due to their simple design, the few mechanical issues they did have
were easily addressed. “It’s an extraordinary car, because it has a very
special suspension and, for example, on the snow you don’t slide. It’s
simple but very well built,” said Claude.
The return to their homeland bought celebration, reflection, and
a traditional French meal of steak, French fries, and many glasses of
red wine. For the six young men, the trip had provided an education
beyond any they could find at a university. The realization that governmental and political forces could divide a once-united people left each
with a unique opinion of their Eastern Bloc neighbors. Beyond the
“approved” travel itinerary, numerous run-ins with authorities and the
insanity of bureaucratic red tape, the people behind the cloak of communism were just that, people. They were farmers, shop and innkeepers, restaurant and gas station workers, and policemen, all with the same
political agenda, or absence thereof, of feeding their families and raising
their children. Above all, they never wanted to see a WWIII.
Claude, now in his later years, reflected that it had been a darn
good adventure. “It wasn’t always easy to travel with six people. Sometimes
it was hard to get along, but after the trip there wasn’t anyone who
said ‘I wouldn’t do it again.’ Instead we asked, ‘where are we going next
time?’”
The Citroën 2CV
In the 1930s, French manufacturer Citroën campaigned to bring the
automobile to the country’s rural populace. The then-current mode of
transportation was the horse carriage. Citroën’s new design would be a
low-cost, robust vehicle capable of transporting two people and a payload of 250 kg (550 lbs). It boosted a maximum speed of 65 km/h (40
mph) with a range of 100 km (60 miles) over the rough, often muddy,
unpaved rural roads of pre-WWII France.
The car’s suspension was to be smooth enough to drive over ploughed
field while carrying eggs to the local market, yet tough enough for the
unpaved roads of pre-WWII France. The removable canvas roof would
allow the carrying of oversized cargo and farm tools. The war halted
production until 1948, and upon its introduction in Paris it became the
laughing stock of the auto industry. Four decades and nearly nine million Citroëns later, when the last vehicle rolled off the assembly line, the
“Dedeuche” had nothing to prove. The tin-can-of-a-car had become
an iconic symbol of no-nonsense utility. With service around the world,
and in every capacity imaginable, it had become an icon of the twentieth century, comparable to the Model-T, the Jeep, the Beetle, the Land
Rover, and the Mini Cooper.
Tech Sheet:
Units produced
8,700,000
Years
1948-1990
Produced
France, Belgium, U.K., Portugal, Spain, Greece,
Slovenia, Senegal, Ivory Coast, Iran, Vietnam,
Chile, Argentina
Engines
Front engine, 425cc - 602cc (9 hp up to 29 hp), air-cooled
Drivetrain
Front wheel drive, 4-speed manual transmission
Suspension
Citroën self-adjusting to payload, leading arm/
trailing arm/swinging arm tie rods system
Wheelbase
96 in (2.40 m)
Weight
1,230 lbs (560 kg)
Nicknames
“Deux Chevaux” (Duh-shuv-vuh) French for “two
horses”
Opposite: One evening in Czechoslovakia, a rabbit picked the wrong time
to cross the road—bad for the rabbit, but good for the Frenchmen, who decided to prepare a special dinner for the occasion. Road kill at its best… The
team on the Red Square, from left: Jean-Pierre, Pierre, Claude, Jean (sitting)
André, Marcel (standing), and Serge.
47
USSR Trip
Route
Cartography by David Medeiros (mapbliss.com)
48
49
50
Power from the Source
By Graham Jackson
Photography by Brian Slobe
Senior Technical Editor Graham
Jackson tests the latest offerings
in portable solar energy.
51
“Mad dogs and Englishmen go out
in the midday sun.” – Noel Coward
I
52
n 2003, while preparing for an extended overland trip in
Africa, I purchased a small Brunton solar panel. I don’t remember the model or name, but I certainly remember the
expletives I showered it with on discovering that it could not
power any of the electrical devices I then owned. Fast-forward almost
a decade, one marked by massive strides in the development of renewable energy, and a quick look at the market reveals a smorgasbord of
solar panel offerings for the aspiring energy efficient traveller.
This review is slightly different from our previous fare. We decided
not to just compare apples to apples, but to go through a large range
of options that would fit different traveling styles and requirements.
From super-light motorcycle (or even hiking) friendly units, to large
panels that will keep a fridge running and your beer cold while at camp.
Most of the panels can also be integrated into larger systems for more
power hungry needs.
For a full overview of solar cells and how they work, see “Solar
Panel Fundamentals” in the Overland Journal 2009 Gear Guide. I’ll not
reiterate much of what that article covered, however one detail we cannot forget is a recurring equation that will come up in every test in this
review. When looking at output from solar panels, we will be focusing
on watts. Watts are a measure of power (in this case electrical power),
and can be calculated by measuring the amperage from the solar panel
and the circuit voltage. By multiplying amps times volts we get watts.
Conveniently, each product in this test includes the nominal wattage of the panel in its name. We have three manufacturers represented—Brunton, Goal Zero and PowerFilm—and eight panels which are
divided into three groups: device power, system power and vehicle
power. At the low-power or compact end, are the Goal Zero Nomad
7 and the Brunton Solaris 4 USB. These are primarily designed to recharge one single device at a time via USB connections. In the midrange, we have “system power” panels which can be used to charge
vehicle batteries, individual devices or (specifically in the case of Goal
Zero) an independent power pack. These panels provide 12 volts and
come in both soft and hard varieties with a range of wattages: the
Brunton Solaris 26, the Goal Zero Nomad 27, the Brunton Solarflat
15 and the Goal Zero Boulder 30. At the high-power end of the spectrum we have panels that, by themselves, can extend your stay in camp
by days. Combined with others in a “system,” these units can go all the
way to making you fully energy independent. In this category are the
PowerFilm 60 and the Brunton Solaris 62.
To be fair, most of the panels tested can be chained to their kin to
produce more power in an integrated system. What we are not coverOverland Journal Fall 2011
ing here are the large hard-panels that are used on many RVs and larger
expedition rigs. These types of systems are usually built in and require
a level of system integration.
Testing Procedure
The data sheet for this review holds the expected general metrics; weight, dimensions, price and manufacturer claims. Beyond that
I wanted to give some small insight into how these very differently
intentioned systems work in the real world. Unlike previous tests, this
cannot be a true comparison of performance due to the differing
range of design parameters of the hardware. Having said this, all of
the tests give insight into how the selected panels perform.
Developments in solar technology are providing sustainable power options
for the plethora of electronic overlanding gizmos we now carry.
Math first. Since direct comparisons may not be effective, ratios
can be. Power-to-weight ratio stands out as a measure of significant
interest, and in the case of solar panels, power-to-area ratio as well.
In both cases I provided one ratio with the claimed maximum power
output (the theoretical maximum), and one with the measured power
output from our testing (see “Sahara” below). With the data collected,
I compared our results with what the manufacturer claims, giving an
objective comparison of panels that would otherwise be incomparable.
This was done by giving the test result as a percentage of the claimed
maximum; a higher percentage being better.
I designed four tests that I thought would be instructive. To collect
the data for all tests I used a Fluke 345 PQ clamp meter capable of
logging data over several days, storing it and downloading it to Fluke’s
Power Meter software package.
Sahara test The “Sahara” test is a full-power measure of the pan-
els. Done under full sun, with the panel aimed as close to perpendicular as possible to the incoming light, this is an indication of peak output. Data from each panel was logged for five minutes at one-second
intervals, and the maximum amperage was extracted along with the
circuit voltage and peak output (in watts). Since solar cell performance
decreases as temperature increases, I also included the panel’s surface
temperature for each test. Getting the panel perpendicular to incoming
sunlight is not simple, but is made much easier by using azimuth and
elevation values for sun position at a specific latitude and longitude
from www.sunearthtools.com.
Austria test The “Austria” test (so named because I have seen
few Austrian days without clouds, and indeed sympathize with the
tourist t-shirts that claim, “it’s raining, it must be Austria!”) was designed to measure panel output under cloud cover. We can’t always
get full sunlight, and it is instructive to learn how panels perform in
substandard conditions. For this test I waited for an overcast day and
logged five minutes of output data for each panel at mid-day while it
was attached to a non-fully charged Odyssey 1400 battery. As with the
other tests, data included amps, volts and watts, and peak values were
extracted from the data set.
Canyon test The “Canyon” test is related to the Austria test
above, but instead of cloud cover, the data was collected in the early
morning after sunrise, but with the panel in full shade. Temperatures
were lower than in the Austria test, and somewhat surprisingly, outputs
were too. Shade, it seems, is not equal where solar energy is concerned.
The missing link:
Solar charge controllers
For anyone serious about using solar panels to supplement power in
their car or truck, a solar charge controller (also called a solar charge
regulator) like the SunGuard-4 from PowerFilm or the Controller from
Brunton is an essential ingredient. The controller will protect the batteries from being overcharged by the panels, and also stop current from
leaking back into the panels in low
or no-light conditions. Some panels
have a blocking diode to try to prevent
reverse leakage, but a charge controller is a more effective solution in systems where multiple panels are linked
together. Some controllers also have
multiple voltage settings for protection of either lead acid or gel batteries.
Baja test The last test was the real-life simulation. Imagine arriv-
ing at a beach in Baja at midday and setting up camp. No one else is
around and you immediately decide to spend several days here—or at
least until the beer in your National Luna Weekender runs out. You set
up the solar panel, grab a cerveza, lose the shoes and relax in the sand.
This is the scenario I considered for this test, which I call the “Baja”
for obvious reasons. With a fully charged Odyssey battery at the start
of the test, and a cold fridge attached as a load (set to 4°C), the solar
panel is deployed just to keep the battery topped up. No care is taken
on panel/sun alignment, and the panel was not moved after testing
started. Unfortunately I didn’t have 16 days to spend in Baja doing the
testing, so I shortened the test to two hours for each panel. As above,
amps, volts and watts were recorded, but here I extracted the average
rather than the peak for review. At 15-minute intervals during testing,
I opened the fridge (to extract a beer, of course) so the motor would
continue to cycle. For the two largest panels I added an ARB Adventure Light as an additional load. This test worked for all panels except
the smallest two (since National Luna has yet to produce a fridge that
will run off five volts). For those panels, I used my iPhone and set it
to play a two-hour playlist. Amps, volts and watts were again recorded
and the averages extracted for the data sheet. Panels did not all see the
same amount of sun as I had no control over intermittent cloud cover,
so take the values as they are presented, as averages for a sunny day
with a few wispy clouds drifting over.
53
Brunton Solaris 4 USB
$252
Pros:
• Light weight and small size
• Great power-to-weight ratio
• Simple to use
Cons:
F
54
irst up, and squarely in the device category is the Solaris 4 USB from Brunton.
This is the lightest panel in the test, at 0.4 pounds (0.18 kg), and perfect for hiking
or motorcycle use. The Solaris 4 has a single USB port and claims four watts of
output at five volts. Power comes from four flexible CIGS (copper/indium/gallium/diselenide) panels mated to ripstop nylon with a rubberized finish texture. Open, the panel
measures 25 inches (63.5 cm) long by 8.9 inches (23.5 cm) wide. Closed, it folds down to a very
neat 14.9 inches (12.5 cm) at the same width. Included is a stuff sack to contain and protect the
panel, though it comes with no wires or other accessories, and is the simplest panel in that sense.
The nylon structure tends to have a fold memory, so the panel can be hard to keep flat until it
warms up in the sun. Once warm, it is easy to keep unfurled. A large grommet is provided at each
corner for staking to the ground or tying in position. The USB connector has a built in blocking
diode to prevent the panels from drawing down an attached battery in low or no light conditions.
Since the Solaris 4 is so light, it does very well in the power-to-weight comparison. With a
theoretical value of 10 watts per pound (or 22.2 W/kg), it was the fourth best in the line up. The
tested value was lower than this, though barely, at 9.9 W/lb (21.9 W/kg) putting it fourth out of
all the panels.
The test results for the Solaris 4 showed some surprises. In the Sahara test it did best of all,
giving an output of 3.94 watts, or 98.4 percent of its claimed output. Small panels suffer in lowlight conditions, not having the sheer area to collect photons. In the Canyon test, the Solaris gave
its worst performance, though this isn’t really reflected in the test results. Though able to deliver
five volts consistently, the current just wasn’t enough, and it sent my iPhone into a charge/no
charge cycle. The phone would say it was charging and give the familiar iPhone tone, which would
drop the current enough to register no charge, and then charge again and so on. This cycle went
on for the full five minutes of the test. I suspect it would eventually drain the iPhone rather than
charge it. The values reported on the data sheet show the peak output for the test, but the average
was much lower at 0.4 watts. In the Austria test the Solaris did better, though its peak output was
lower, the average was higher, and it was able to keep a charge going into the iPhone. In the Baja
test, the Solaris 4 also shined, giving the highest average output as a percentage of claimed peak,
at 74.5 percent. It was easily able to keep the iPhone topped up throughout the playlist and could
probably handle a bigger load like a movie on an iPad. bruntonoutdoor.com, 307-857-4700
• Can be hard to keep unfurled at first
• Struggles in very low-light conditions
• Limited to only USB output
Folded the Solaris 4 USB is tiny and comes with
a stuff sack for storage. A single USB connector
makes the intensions obvious and the use very
simple.
Goal Zero Nomad 7
$100
Pros:
• Versatile, includes both 5 V USB and 12 V
power options and an optional battery
charger
• Well-marked connection ports
• Compact
Cons:
• Poor low-light performance
• When closed, cells rub and surface scratches
can result
• Hard panels make it relatively heavy
G
oal Zero specializes in power systems for travel, and this is reflected in their
products, including the Nomad 7. I have placed it in the device category and
all calculations and tests were done using the 5 volt USB port. The smallest
of the Goal Zero panels, the Nomad 7 weighs 0.75 lbs (0.34 kg) and folded
measures just 9 x 6.5 inches (23 x 16.5 cm). Releasing the Velcro closure reveals two mono
crystalline panels, a connector and small accessory pocket—all encased in a soft Cordura-like
material. Open, the unit measures just 19.3 x 9 inches (49 x 23 cm).
Of all the panels in the test, the Nomad 7 is probably the most versatile. It has a USB port,
a 12-volt port with an included female cigarette lighter adapter, and a port specifically for attaching Goal Zero’s Guide 10 battery charger (for AA and AAA). All output voltages are clearly
marked and around the edge of the panel, and there are eight loops for hanging or securing. A
built-in accessory pocket easily holds the 12-volt cable.
Power-to-weight numbers are on the lower end due to the weight of the hard panels 6.67
W/lb (14.7 W/kg) or theoretical and 4.6 W/lb (10.2 W/kg) as tested. Power-to-surface area
numbers are better, but not stellar at 3.32 W/ft2 (35.5 W/m2 ).
In testing, the Nomad 7 did not excel, but it did hold its own. In the Sahara test I could only
eke 3.45 watts out of the panel, which comes to a pretty low 69 percent of its theoretical maximum. Some of this could be due to the high panel temperature during the test at a balmy 113°F
(45°C). It did well in the Baja test, easily keeping my iPhone charged to 100 percent during the
long playlist and averaging 37.2 percent of its theoretical maximum. As with the small Brunton,
low light proved to be a challenge for the Nomad 7. Under clouds (the Austria test) it could
only produce 0.12 watts, and in the shade test (Canyon test), it suffered even worse. It only gave
back 1.34 volts (far from the 4.95 volts it gives under direct sun), which was not enough for the
iPhone to register a charge, and certainly not enough to give any power to the battery. Again,
small panels do suffer in low light due to surface area, and the Nomad 7 has the smallest surface
area of all the tested panels. goalzero.com, 888-794-6250
55
Velcro closure keeps the tiny folded package secure. Clear output markings are very welcome,
and 12 V output a boone.
Brunton Solarflat 15
$115
Pros:
• Excellent in low-light conditions
• Long output cord
• Good selection of included connectors
Cons:
• Heavy
• Requires a hard-mount
• Low output for size
T
56
he first of two non-foldable hard panels in the review is the Brunton Solarflat
15. This is a system panel, but could be used as a vehicle-integrated panel quite
easily. Curiously this unit uses amorphous thin-film cells (usually used in folding
panels) housed in a hard case. The panel measures 12.5 x 36.5 x 0.75 inches (31.8
x 92.7 x 1.9 cm) and the frame, made of aluminum and anodized in blue or orange, has brackets
at each corner suitable for mounting on any hard surface. A plethora of adaptors are included,
each with a simple two-prong connector to mate with the 12-foot (3.65 m) output cable; alligator
clips, female cigarette lighter, bare wire pigtail and a green LED—presumably for checking to see
if the panel is working. The Solarflat 15 only outputs 12 volts, and has a built-in blocking diode
and battery overcharge protection. Up to three Solarflat 15s can be chained together to increase
output. For more than three, Brunton sells a solar controller to handle the additional load (see
The Missing Link side panel).
Hard panels suffer in the power-to-weight ratio calculation, mainly because of the glass and
metal used in their structure. The Solarflat scored at the bottom in this measurement with a 2.0
W/lb (4.45 W/kg) theoretical and a 1.8 W/lb (4.1 W/kg) as tested, but scored very well in powerto-area ratio with 4.73 W/ft2 (50.9 W/m2 ), third highest in the review.
In the Sahara test the Solarflat did well, being one of only three panels to reach the 90s as a
percent of theoretical output. It also had the coolest surface temperature during that test, which
may have helped. It also did well in the Baja test with an average of 55.6 percent of theoretical
maximum, and keeping the Odyssey test battery mostly topped up. The low-light test is where
the Solarflat really came in to its own. With a 17 percent score on the canyon test it was only
beaten by the Solaris 4, which as we have seen, did have other issues. In the Austria test it was the
undisputed winner with a peak output of 33.9 percent of theoretical maximum. bruntonoutdoor.
com, 307-857-4700
Great selection of connectors included: alligator clips, free end of attached cable, bare
pigtail, cigarette lighter adapter, LED. Joints
at each corner also drilled for use as mounting points.
Brunton Solaris 26
$646
Pros:
• Great power-to-weight ratio
• Good low-light performance
• Rugged and well made
Cons:
• Cost
• Stuff sack seems ill-equipped for cable storage
• Hard to keep unfurled until fabric gets warm
T
he Brunton Solaris 26 is the big brother of the Solaris 4 USB, and fits in the systems category. Brunton provides several battery packs that can integrate with the
Solaris 26 for powering accessories. This panel has eight CIGS cells housed in the
same ripstop fabric as the Solaris 4. Folded it is a neat 10.8 x 8.7 x 1 inches (27.5
x 22 x 2.5 cm) package held with a Velcro closure—open, it is a large 43.2 x 21 inches (107.5 x
53.5 cm). The fabric has a similar fold memory to the other Brunton soft panels, which can make
keeping it flat a challenge when initially opened. There are large grommets on each corner for
securing if necessary. The Solaris 26 has a fixed output of 12 volts, and comes with a selection
of adaptors; alligator clips, a female cigarette lighter and Brunton’s multi-linking cable. A fourprong connector that can be used to link panels together or power any compatible devices. The
receptor on the panel has two outlets for linking and powering. When folded the panel fits in
the included stuff sack along with the cables and connectors. I’m not convinced that the drawstring closure on the sack is a good idea—when closed, inversion can let cables escape. Power-toweight ratio of the Solaris 26 is excellent. Its theoretical value is 14.85 W/lb (32.9 W/kg), third
highest in the review, and its tested value is 11.8 W/lb (26.2 W/kg), second highest in the test.
In the Sahara test the Solaris was third highest with a measured output of 79.5 percent of
its theoretical maximum and a peak output of 20.67 watts. It did even better in the Baja longterm test, with an average of 70.1 percent over two hours. It seems that the Brunton CIGS
cells are very accepting of off-angle light and perform well in static positions—something very
valuable to keep in mind. In low-light conditions the Solaris 26 did well, but not exceptionally
well. The Canyon test resulted in 8.3 percent of maximum, and 20 percent for the Austria test.
bruntonoutdoor.com, 307-857-4700
57
Compact when folded; comes with stuff sack
for storage. Included connectors: alligator clips,
cigarette adaptor, and multi-plug.
Goal Zero Nomad 27
$350
Pros:
• Both 12 V and USB outlets
• Can chain multiple units together for
more power
• Included poles to add rigidity
Cons:
T
58
• Can be hard to fold correctly
• Heavy due to hard panels
• Hard panels at risk of being scratched
when panel folded
he Nomad 27 takes the Nomad 7 design into the next level, and straddles the device and system categories. For this test we did all of the calculations and testing
via the 12-volt port rather than the USB. Construction is similar to the Nomad 7,
but with eight monocrystalline hard panels all sewn into the fabric case. Folded
the Nomad 27 measures 11 x 7 x 2.5 inches (28 x 17.8 x 6.4 cm), and is held closed by a Velcro
strip—open dimensions are 22 x 43.5 inches (55.8 x 110.5 cm). It took several tries to correctly
fold the panel and get the Velcro to match. I kept getting it wrong, but I expect that’s because I
had six other folding panels to deal with at the same time. A nice feature is the inclusion of three
aluminum support poles that give the open panel more structure. A pocket stores the poles, a 118
inch (3-meter) output cord, and 12-volt cigarette adapter. Large grommets at each corner allow
for hanging or staking down. Like the other Goal Zero offerings, the Nomad 27 integrates well
with their battery packs and inverter products, allowing for numerous power options. Outputs
include 12-volt, USB, and the ability to chain multiple panels for more power. Due to the Nomad
27’s hard panels, it is heavy for its size and power-to-weight ratios suffer—though the power-toarea ratio is in line other panels of similar output. The tested power-to-weight put the Nomad 27
fifth in the lineup, exactly where the calculated figure predicted.
In the testing, the Nomad 27 did not excel, but it didn’t embarrass itself either. The Sahara
provided an acceptable 77.7 percent of its theoretical high of 27 watts. The larger folding panels
had some trouble with the full-power test mainly, I think, due to the difficulty of getting all the
individual cells aligned perfectly with the sun. In the Baja, the Nomad 27 was at the bottom end.
This is likely the result of it having the most cloud cover during its testing period. For the Canyon
test (full shade), the Nomad did very well—but curiously, not so well in the Austria cloud cover
test. goalzero.com, 888-794-6250
Careful folding required for Velcro to match up
perfectly. Ports clearly marked; cigarette adapter
included; aluminum poles provide rigidity.
Goal Zero Boulder 30
$300
Pros:
• Very high power-to-area ratio
• Good mounting options
• Good performance over variable conditions
Cons:
• Limited connection options
• Hard to store unless hard-mounted
• Heavy
T
he second hard-panel in the review is the Goal Zero Boulder 30. Specifically designed to be used with one of Goal Zero’s battery storage systems (like the Escape
150), puts this contender in the system category. The 12 monocrystalline cells
are encased in a 21 x 18 x 1 inch (53.2 x 45.6 x 2.5 cm) aluminum frame. The 16
mounting points make the Boulder very easy to secure to a hard surface. A single cable is included to interface the Boulder 30 with Goal Zero power packs. Two ports labeled ‘in’ and ‘out,’
grace the output box—for chaining multiple panels together. An LED light indicates when the
panel has power, and another labeled “charging” shows when the panel is providing power to an
attached device.
As with the Brunton Solarflat 15, the power-to-weight of the Boulder 30 scores low (4.8 W/
lb, 10.6 W/kg, theoretical and 4.2 W/lb, 9.3 W/kg, tested). Power-to-area ratio, at 11.4 W/ft2
(124 W/m2 ), is where the Boulder excels, burying the competition with a value almost twice its
nearest rival.
In testing the Boulder did well, consistently sparring with the Brunton Solarflat 15. It came
fourth in the Sahara test, achieving 88.1 percent of its theoretical 30-watt output, and was third in
the Baja test—giving an average of 57.9 percent of theoretical. For the low-light tests, it ranked
better in shade (Canyon test) than it did under cloud (Austria test), though both were ranked
close. Power output was 5.5 percent and 17 percent respectively. goalzero.com, 888-794-6250
59
Single cable included with specialized ends;
LEDs give power and charging info. Plenty of
mounting points on the housing.
PowerFilm F15-3600 60 Watt
$1,000
Pros:
• Compact and light; great power-toweight ratio
• Easy to fold
• Consistently good performance
Cons:
• Size can make it a challenge to deploy
• Cannot chain panels together without
additional hardware
• Limited connection options without
additional hardware
P
60
owerFilm offers a range of solar options (as do the other manufacturers in the
review), but we only sourced their largest for this test. The F15-3600 is a 60-watt
folding unit with 24 thin-film panels sewn into a black canvas-like material. With 60
watts of theoretical output, it is large enough to power most overlanding systems
and would go very far to keeping a static camp powered for an extended period of time. Folded,
the F15-3600 is a compact 11 x 10.25 x 1.5 inches (27.9 x 26 x 3.8 cm) and weighs 3.75 pounds
(1.7 kg). Open, it is a massive at 42.5 x 58.8 inches (108 x 149 cm). The sheer size of the unfolded
panel can cause some issues in aiming it at the sun. Grommets at each corner are handy hanging
or staking down, but a flat surface like a vehicle hood or roof top tent top would prove more
effective. Power output is 12 volts, via a single pigtail connector. A female cigarette lighter adaptor is included, and other cable options, including extensions and cables for linking to a vehicle
system, are available. This panel was surprisingly easy to fold up and I never had an issue securing
the Velcro closure. PowerFilm provides solar panels for military applications, and the construction is, as expected, robust. On their website is a video showing a panel continuing to deliver usable power after being tattered by several rounds.
Measured by the power-to-weight test, which resulted in 15.4 W/lb (33.9 W/kg), the PowerFilm F15-3600 won hands down against all others—calculated theoretical ratio put it second behind the Brunton Solaris 62. In the Sahara test it ranked second best behind the Brunton Solaris
4 USB—peak output of 96.1 percent of its theoretical 60 watts. In the Baja test, it only managed
25.6 percent over the two-hour period. However, it was the only panel in the test that was able to
run the fridge, the ARB adventure light, and leave the Odyssey battery at a higher voltage than it
started. In low-light conditions, results were mixed. While it excelled in the Austria cloud cover
test, second best at 25.2 percent theoretical output, the Canyon test proved hard for the PowerFilm, scoring lowest at 2.5 percent. powerfilmsolar.com, 888-354-7773
Panel is very compact when folded. Cigarette
adapter included, extension and pigtail are extra
options.
Brunton Solaris 62
$1,320
Pros:
• Compact and lightweight
• Multiple cables included for connection options
• High power-to-weight ratio
Cons:
• Hard to keep unfurled until fabric warms
• Hard to align all panels to the sun for
maximum power
• High cost
T
he Solaris 62 from Brunton is a folding system with 12 CIGS thin-film panels
arrayed in the same flexible nylon material as the Solaris 4 and Solaris 26. With a
theoretical 62-watt output, it is the “largest” panel in the review—though physical
dimensions do not reflect that. The folded measurement is 14.6 x 8.8 x 2 inches
(37.1 x 22 x 5 cm), and the accessories pocket is large enough for included cables—a Velcro strips
keep unit securely closed. When open, it extends to 29.3 x 52 inches (74.3 x 132 cm), and weight
comes in at 3.5 pounds (1.6 kg). Output is a constant 12 volts, and supplied cables include a female cigarette adaptor, alligator clips, and the same multi-linking cable provided with the Solaris
26. There are two ports on the panel itself, both with the same plug—two output cables can be
used simultaneously, or multiple panels can be linked with a single output cable. The panel has a
blocking diode for reverse-flow protection under low-light conditions. Just like its smaller Solaris
brethren, the 62 can be hard to keep flat until the fabric heats up. Grommets are provided at each
corner to hang the panel or stake it down—again, a hood or camper top would be best.
Theoretical power-to-weight ratio is the Solaris 62’s forte; it wins with a value of 17.71 W/lb
(38.75 W/kg) but under testing, it got pipped by both the PowerFilm and the Solaris 26 after giving back only 11.2 W/lb (24.5 W/kg). It ranked second for theoretical power-to-area ratio, with
5.86 W/ft2 (63.22 W/m2). For the Sahara full-power test, the Solaris 62 could only provide 63.3
percent of its 62 watts, landing it the lowest scoring panel. I suspect that this has something to do
with its stiff fabric structure and our difficulty in getting each of the 12 panels to be perpendicular to the incoming light at the same time. In the Baja test, the Solaris 62 was also lowest at 15.5
percent of its 62-watt theoretical maximum. It was, however, able to run the Engel fridge, ARB
light, and maintain the Odyssey battery charge, leaving the same 12.79 volts that it started with.
Not quite as good as the PowerFilm panel achieved, but virtue of its available power, certainly
adequate. For low-light, the Solaris 62 was sixth in the Canyon test and third in the Austria test
showing variable low-light performance, just like most of the other panels. bruntonoutdoor.com,
307-857-4700
61
External pocket provides storage for all connectors. Included connectors: alligator clips, cigarette adaptor, and multi-plug.
Conclusions
O
62
f all the technical evaluations I have done for Overland
Journal, this has been the least clear and most frustrating. Usually, a single product will jump to the fore
in several tests and be a pretty clear winner. In this
review, probably due to variable sun conditions, none of the tests were
exceptionally clear-cut. Panels that performed well in one test did poorly in another—leaving no clear technical winner. This may be due to the
fact that we covered a wide array of products, with different specifications and under varying conditions—thus reducing the “evaluation” to
a set of opinions, albeit based on some technical review.
The hard panels, the Brunton Solarflat 15 and the Goal Zero Boulder 30 are somewhat specialized in overland application. Though I put
them in the systems category, they would most likely be hard-mounted
to a vehicle, maybe in multiples, as part of an integrated vehicle system. Both panels were just as advertised, with the Solarflat excelling in
low light and the Boulder having the highest power-to-area ratio. Both
Brunton and Goal Zero offer battery systems that could be integrated
with these panels. However, I find it difficult to justify a “systems” approach when the folding panels from both companies are more compact and easier to transport.
Based on performance and price, the Value Award was aimed at
the Solarflat 15, and that’s where it stuck.
The small folding panels, Goal Zero Nomad 7 and the Brunton Solaris 4 USB, are perfect device panels—either would be a great choice
for foot, bicycle or motorcycle travel. I would favor the Brunton due
to its excellent performance in the Sahara and Baja tests and its very
low weight. Should you need to power a laptop, there is no denying
the value of the 12-volt supply from the Nomad 7. In conjunction
with the Guide 10 battery charger, the Nomad 7’s power options for
cameras and other devices would be handy.
The medium-size folding panels are the Goal Zero Nomad 27 and
the Brunton Solaris 26. Both of these would do well in conjunction
with a battery/inverter system from their respective companies—as
part of a systems approach. For the overlander who does several weeks
a year, or for the serious adventure motorcyclist who needs more power than the small device provides, either would be excellent. Again, I
think pure performance goes to the Brunton high power, low weight,
and great performance in the Baja test. This said, the USB port on the
Nomad 27 makes it a very versatile tool, and something that could
suite a variety of needs for someone looking at a single-panel solution.
That brings us to our large folding panels, the Brunton Solaris 62
and the PowerFilm F15-3600. The Solaris 62 ended up on the bottom
rung in the Sahara and Baja test, and just one step up in the Canyon
test. I’m at a bit of a loss to explain this as it uses the same CIGS cells
as the other Solaris panels that did much better. To be sure, the sheer
size of the panel and the stiffness of the fabric predispose an accordion effect, making perfect alignment with the sun difficult, but that
should have had no effect on the low-light tests. More investigation is
needed here. The PowerFilm F15-3600 did everything asked of it, and
was a great performer in the Sahara and Austria tests, and did well (if
not stellar) on the Baja test. Given price, build quality, performance
and ease of use, the F15-3600 gets the Editor’s Choice. If I’m on a
beach in Baja expecting my beers to be cold (and not wanting to worry
about it), you’ll see me setting up the PowerFilm to provide the juice.
Perhaps the mad dogs will keep this Englishman company in the midday sun.
RESOURCES
Odyssey Battery, odysseybattery.com, 660-429-2165
National Luna, equipt1.com, 866-703-1026
Fluke, fluke.com, 425-347-6100
Why are the numbers low, watt should I expect?
Solar panels are usually rated using watts of output, as all the panels in this test are. The question then becomes “how did the manufacturer calculate that number?” A solar panel will have
an unloaded nominal voltage when exposed to light—but not connected to a circuit. This voltage can often be 20 volts or more. Since watts are calculated using amps and volts, it makes
a big difference if 1.5 amps of output are calculated with the nominal 20 volts (30 watts) or a
slightly more realistic 12.75 volts (19.125 watts) when the panel is connected to a car battery.
That’s better than a 30 percent difference in reporting, so even though you might buy a panel
rated to 30 watts, you may never see that actual output when connected to a 12-volt circuit.
Solaris 4 USB
Nomad 7
Solarflat 15
Solaris 26
Manufacturer
Brunton
Goal Zero
Brunton
Brunton
Retail cost
$252
$100
$115
$646
Weight (lbs / kg)
0.4 / 0.18
0.75 / 0.34
7.4 / 3.3
1.75 / 0.79
Dimensions folded (in / cm)
4.9 x 8.9 x 1.2 /
12.5 x 23.5 x 3
9 x 6.5 x 0.78 / 23 x 16.5 x 2
N/A
10.8 x 8.7 x 1 /
27.5 x 22 x 2.5
Dimensions open (in / cm)
25 x 8.9 / 63.5 x 23.5
19.3 x 9 / 49 x 23
12.5 x 36.5 x 0.75 /
31.8 x 92.7 x 1.9
42.3 x 21 /
107.5 x 53.5
Number of cells
4
2
1
8
Cell size (in / cm)
3.7 x 6.9 / 9.5 x 17.5
9 x 5.7 / 23 x 14.5
11.75 x 35.5 / 29.8 x 90.2
8.3 x 7 / 21 x 18
Cell structure
Flexible
Hard
Hard
Flexible
Cell type
CIGS (Copper/Indium/
Gallium/DiSelenide)
Mono crystalline
Amorphous thin film
Gallium/DiSelenide)
Claimed output
0.8A @ 5 V ≈ 4 W
USB 5 V 5 W, 12 V 4 W,
Guide 10 6.5 V 7 W
0.9A @ 12 V ≈ 15 W
1.6A @ 12 V ≈ 26 W
Country of manufacture
Cells made in U.S.A.,
assembled in Mexico
China
assembled in Mexico
assembled in Mexico
Power-to-weight ratio
calculated (W/lb / W/kg)
10 / 22.2
6.67 / 14.7
2.0 / 4.45
14.85 / 32.9
Power to weight ratio tested
(W/lb / W/kg)
9.9 / 21.9
4.6 / 10.2
1.8 / 4.1
11.8 / 26.2
Power-to-area ratio
(W/ft2 / W/m2)
2.59 / 26.81
3.32 / 35.50
4.73 / 50.90
4.21 / 45.21
Sahara test (direct sun high output)
Peak output (amps)
0.80
0.70
1.05
1.58
Peak output (watts)
3.94
3.45
13.67
20.67
Measured output as a % of
claimed output
98.4
69.0
91.1
79.5
113 / 45
99 / 37
104 / 40
Panel temp during test (°F / °C) 108 / 42
Baja test (long term 2 hour)
Average output over 2 hours
(amps)
0.60
0.37
0.64
1.39
(watts)
2.98
1.86
8.34
18.22
Battery condition start
(iPhone % or V)
100%
100%
13.11
13.19
Battery condition end
(iPhone % or V)
100%
100%
13.01
13.05
Measured average output as a
% of claimed output
74.5
37.2
55.6
70.1
Peak output (amps)
0.18
0.18
0.2
0.17
Peak output (watts)
0.89
0.24
2.54
2.16
claimed output
22.3
4.8
17.0
8.3
Peak output (amps)
0.14
0.09
0.40
0.41
Peak output (watts)
0.69
0.12
5.09
5.21
claimed output
17.3
2.4
33.9
20.0
Canyon test (full shade)
Austria test (high sun but cloudy)
63
Nomad 27
Boulder 30
F15-3600
Solaris 62
Manufacturer
Goal Zero
Goal Zero
Powerfilm
Brunton
Retail cost
$350
$300
$1,000
$1,320
Weight (lbs / kg)
3.5 / 1.6
6.25 / 2.83
3.75 / 1.7
3.5 / 1.6
Dimensions folded (in / cm)
11 x 7 x 2.5 / 28 x 17.8 x 6.4 N/A
11 x 10.25 x 1.5 /
27.9 x 26 x 3.8
14.6 x 8.8 x 2 /
37.1 x 22.2 x 5
Dimensions open (in / cm)
22 x 43.5 / 55.8 x 110.5
21 x 18 x 1 / 53.2 x 45.6 x 2.5 42.5 x 58.8 / 108 x 149
29.3 x 52 / 74.3 x 132
Number of cells
8
12
24
12
Cell size (in / cm)
8.5 x 6 / 21.6 x 15.2
4.9 x 4.9 / 12.5 x 12.5
9.4 x 8.7 / 24 x 22
12.4 x 7.3 / 31.5 x 18.5
Cell structure
Hard
Hard
Flexible
Flexible
Cell type
Mono crystalline
Mono crystalline
Thin film amorphous silicon
Gallium/DiSelenide)
Claimed output
USB 5 V 5 W, 13-15 V 27 W
2.5A @ 12 V ≈ 30 W
3.6A @ 15.4 V ≈ 60 W
3.1A @ 12 V ≈ 62 W
Country of manufacture
China
China
U.S.A.
assembled in Mexico
Power-to-weight ratio
calculated (W/lb / W/kg)
7.71 / 16.87
4.8 / 10.6
16 / 35.29
17.71 / 38.75
Power to weight ratio tested
(W/lb / W/kg)
6.0 / 13.1
4.2 / 9.3
15.4 / 33.9
11.2 / 24.5
Power-to-area ratio
(W/ft2 / W/m2)
4.06 / 43.79
11.43 / 123.67
3.46 / 37.29
5.86 / 63.22
Sahara test (direct sun high output)
64
Peak output (amps)
1.65
2.02
4.33
2.98
Peak output (watts)
20.99
26.42
57.63
39.25
claimed output
77.7
88.1
96.1
63.3
Panel temp during test (°F / °C)
104 / 40
104 / 40
104 / 40
104 / 40
(amps)
0.38
1.35
1.18
0.75
(watts)
4.94
17.38
15.37
9.62
Battery condition start
(iPhone % or V)
13.16
12.98
12.91
12.79
Battery condition end
(iPhone % or V)
13.07
12.87
13.05
12.79
Measured average output as a
% of claimed output
18.3
57.9
25.6
15.5
Peak output (amps)
0.2
0.13
0.12
0.21
Peak output (watts)
2.54
1.65
1.53
2.67
claimed output
9.4
5.5
2.5
4.3
Peak output (amps)
0.33
0.40
1.19
0.99
Peak output (watts)
4.20
5.09
15.12
12.60
claimed output
15.5
17.0
25.2
20.3
Baja test (long term 2 hour)
Canyon test (full shade)
Austria test (high sun but cloudy)
South of the Border
Lati
tude
65
29° N
Steve Pfeffer
66
29° N
Chris Collard
67
30° N
Steve Pfeffer
68
69
62°Collard
S
29° NJournal
Chris
Overland
Fall 2011
23° N
Chris Collard
Chris Collard
Chris Collard
24° N
28° N
70
54° S
71
25° NJournal
ChrisFall
Collard
Overland
2011
The World’s
72
Take a motorhome
on your next overland trek…
(Psst...you can if it is a VW Syncro Bus)
Favorite Bus
73
By S. Lucas Valdes and Jad Josey
The sound
cracked across the valley like a
grenade
going off—BANG!
“What was that?” I thought to myself. Then I heard a more familiar—ping, chug, chug, ping. I cringed.
There is nothing quite like the resonance of a ring and pinion set meeting its demise. I watched
helplessly as my friend Taylor’s VW Syncro lurched to a halt on a precariously steep incline. Jaden,
Taylor’s 11-year-old son, who had been honing his 4WD skills since the tender age of eight, was
having a “training session.” He had revved the engine to about 6,000 rpm and dumped the clutch.
Over the CB radio I heard Taylor say solemnly, “Yeah, it’s just as bad as it sounded.”
This certainly wasn’t good. We were seven Syncro Westys in the middle of nowhere, 600 miles
below the border in Baja, Mexico, and had not seen a paved road for 10 days. The ring and pinion
was most likely destroyed, and we were a two-day drive from the natural hot springs that would
mark the beginning of the end of our journey. The rugged switchback Taylor was perched on had
not been traveled in some time—but this was the reason we chose this route.
74
It could be worse, though. My large electric fridge was well stocked
with cold ballenas (quart-sized beers), fresh-caught fish, and tequila.
Beneath the steady Baja sun, the solar panel mounted on the poptop roof could keep us supplied with electricity almost indefinitely—
however, our beer supply, though plentiful, was finite. Our cupboards
were stocked with black beans, tortillas, hot sauce, limes, and jalapeños.
Heck, if we were stuck here all night—all week, for that matter—we
could simply pop the top of our Westy and have a solid night’s sleep.
One of the nice things about driving Syncros: In under twenty
minutes we could “circle the wagons,” be comfortably camped, and
look like we’d been there for weeks. For us, these vehicles are much
more than metal and machine. Hearing the ping, chug, ping—this was
personal.
“I’ll be right there,” I answered into the CB handset. I grabbed my
tools and kissed my wife, Kathy, who had slipped into the rear seat,
pulled two Pacificos from the fridge, and was already slicing a lime into
thick wedges. “Wherever we end up,” she said, “we’ll be fine.” She was
right, of course. And it wasn’t the first time she’d spoken those words.
Kathy and I were married in June of 1985. I knew I’d found the
right woman when she enthusiastically agreed to a honeymoon that
involved a three-month circumnavigation of the continent in our red
1970 Westfalia camper. We packed everything we owned into a small
storage unit and hit the road, meandering east on a sweeping counter-clockwise route. We ended up in Bar Harbor, Maine, where we
boarded a ferry to Nova Scotia. One afternoon, we found ourselves
hunkered down in the bus somewhere outside of Dartmouth. It was
raining so hard neither of us wanted to get out. We sat in our cozy
travel capsule, writing postcards that doubled as thank you notes for
wedding gifts. Within moments, a storm broke out inside the vehicle—
we were having our first fight. One of us surely would have stormed
off, but there was nowhere to go. We’d committed ourselves to this
home-on-wheels, and we were stuck with one another. Before long,
somehow, we were both laughing. Call it campervan catharsis, but
there was simply no way to stay angry in a vehicle as happy as our bus.
“No matter where we go in this bus,” Kathy said, “things seem to
turn out just fine.” The postcards we wrote that day might have been
stained with tears of anger, tears of laughter, or simply Canadian-sized
raindrops.
American Love Affair
When I was 14 years old, a friend’s dad owned a 1966 Westfalia
pop-top camper. It was a time in my life when the idea of getting out
of the house and away from my family was very appealing, and that
little VW Bus, with its funky two-piece windshield and square pop-top,
looked like freedom. I remember staring at that bus, imagining all the
places I could go—and as it would turn out, I was not alone.
Until the mid-1950s, Volkswagen only made one type of vehicle:
the Beetle. Then came the Micro Bus, VW’s second offering (hence
the Type II moniker). It was then that the vehicular and recreational
worlds collided with irreversible results. Volkswagen produced three
generations of rear-engine vans. The 50s-style “Splitties,” so called
because of their two-piece, split-window design, were produced until
1967. The “Bay Window” was introduced in 1968 and manufactured
for thirteen years, and the Vanagon from 1980 through 1991.
Today, when driving my 1979, or newer 4WD Syncro, I can’t go
anywhere without somebody stopping me to say they knew somebody
who owned one, or they had one themselves. “Wow, is that thing really
4WD?” and “I should have never sold mine!” are common. It might
be a daydreaming teenager, as I once was—or a couple in their 70s
reminiscing about traveling with their kids in a Type II. Admiration for
the beloved bus seems to span all ages and backgrounds.
Youth, Rivers, and Bus Bravado
Classic bus ad images If you were wondering where Hannibal,
Eezi-Awn, and ARB got the idea for a roof top tent, buses were fitted with pop-tops, such as this vintage unit from Sportsmobile, as
early as the 1960s. From its inception, the VW bus was promoted
as a platform for outdoor adventure. With ample room for coolers,
BBQs, and passengers, it was not uncommon to see VW buses used
as everything from campers and beach roamers, to commuters and
construction vehicles.
Youth is the lowest common denominator of poor judgment.
When I began exploring the vast countryside of Baja in a 1979 Bay
Window Bus, I had plenty of the former and a prerequisite amount
of the latter. The year was 1987, and the Bay Window was the most
modern VW bus to date.
We were 150 miles deep into Baja near Laguna Hanson, staring at
a fairly wide river crossing. In the back were my two-year-old son and
my pregnant wife. In the passenger seat was my brother-in-law with a
wide grin on his face.
“Looks pretty deep,” he said. That smile was somewhat maniacal,
but it gave me a strange sense of bravado.
“Yeah,” I said. “But I think we can make it with a good running
start.”
It was a warm fall day and we had been cruising with the sliding door wide open. Our bus was fully equipped, and by that, I mean
that it had a “fridge,” a cook stove, and a pop-top. What it lacked, of
course, was anything resembling a suspension lift, differential lockers,
or self-rescue equipment. Perhaps there is some direct correlation between a “cozy as home” feeling and that of invincibility. We had no
map, very little fuel, our youth, and a sense of indestructibility that was
almost palpable.
I put the bus into reverse, backed up about 50 yards, and eyed
my line across the river. A thought suddenly crossed my mind. “What
about my wife, my two-year-old son, my unborn daughter?” I put the
bus in neutral, pulled the parking brake, slid out of the driver’s seat and
walked around to the sliding door.
“Safety first,” I said, and I slid the door shut.
As I climbed back behind the wheel, my brother-in-law gave me
a nod of approval. It was clear that we were both thinking the same
thing: Got to watch out for the women and children.
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The Syncro: part motorhome, part Jeep
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1.
4.
8.
2.
5.
9.
3.
6.
10.
11.
12.
7.
12.
Seatbelts were buckled, the sliding door was closed, and the road to
freedom sat squarely within our view on the other side of the river. I
pushed the accelerator pedal to the floor and wound out first gear, then
grabbed second. We hit the water going about 30 mph—it must have
been a sight to see. Halfway across we lost traction, in layman’s terms,
we were now “floating.” Luckily, we had generated enough momentum
to keep moving forward until the rear wheels grabbed river rocks—we
emerged on the other side.
My hands were shaking with adrenalin. “I think we should get a
Jeep,” my brother-in-law said. He looked only slightly less invincible
than he had on the other side of the river, but I could tell his confidence was rattled. “No way,” said Kathy from the backseat. She was
still smiling. “There’s no place to hang curtains in a Jeep, and no place
to sleep, either.” She had unbuckled her seat belt and began preparing
some sandwiches. “Wherever we end up,” she said, “we’ll be just fine.”
The Water Boxer
With German roots, and based on the 1948 Volkswagen Beetle
motor (right down to the cylinder head bolt pattern), the “Water
Boxer” was the last in a long line of VW’s horizontally-opposed,
four-cylinder engines. It was water-cooled instead of air-cooled
(thus the moniker), beautifully efficient and reliable, and simple to
work on.
Opposite:
1. Upstairs bunk in a Vanagon Westy camper.
2. The interior of a Westy is spacious and has all the amenities of
home.
3. Plug-ins on the front and rear bumpers provide for the use of a
“portable” Warn 6,000 lb winch.
4. The undercarriage, when modified with suitable skid plates, is almost indestructible and fully protects the drive train.
5. The 30° and 45° points are red for a reason. It is the tilting point of
no return.
6. Though hard-mounted showers are available, solar units work well,
take very little space, and are the preferred method of many Westy
owners.
7. The rear seat folded down provides for a full-length bed for two.
8. The “locker indicator” appeared in all Syncros with a rear locking
differential, but only with the right-most knob. This is a true “triple
knob” console for vehicles with front and rear lockers.
9. There is plenty of room under the front seats for air compressors,
solar panel controllers and accessory electronics or radios.
10.All VW buses have 4-wheel independent suspensions and good
ground clearance. This Westy has been upgraded with FOX Shocks
and GoWesty 2-inch springs. The rubber flap with the hole in it is a
CV joint protector.
11.Though the dash is almost nonexistent, the cab of the Syncro is
spacious and visibility is exceptional.
12.A feature of the VW bus is that the engine/transaxle assembly is
directly over the rear wheels, thus providing for near 50/50 weight
distribution.
The Gen III Bus
The third generation of the rear-engine van was the VW Vanagon,
introduced in 1980. The first four years of production featured some
of the most profound examples of engineering schizophrenia in automotive history. The ’80 and ’81 models used the same 75 hp, 2.0-liter
air-cooled engines as the preceding buses. In late 1981, VW decided to
add a radiator and offer a 48 hp diesel—that’s right, 48 horsepower. It
was as though the German engineers thought that 75 might “break”
something. In less than two years, they scrapped the air-cooled and
diesel variants for a new version of the 1.6-liter Beetle engine—watercooled and punched out to a whopping 1.9 liters. Thus the VW “Water
Boxer” was born. But those crafty Germans weren’t done yet. In 1986,
they redesigned the entire cooling system and upped the engine displacement to 2.1 liters—now offering a blistering 90 hp.
Part Jeep, part motorhome—The Syncro
After my Baja river-fording experience, I was hungry for a van that
could provide the same sort of self-contained adventure, but with a
stronger, more capable platform for getting off the beaten path. Maybe a 4WD. Enter the Vanagon Syncro.
There had been rumors about VW producing a 4WD version of
the Vanagon, but the rumor mill is strong and the results often nebulous. In this case, VW came through, and in 1986 introduced the Syncro. The basic platform was there—super rugged and rigid unitized
body design, independent 4-CV joint suspension front and rear, and
a near-perfect 50/50 weight distribution. With a 96-inch wheelbase, it
could be maneuvered like a forklift. However, schizophrenia had run
amok among the array of German engineering head-scratchers.
The original design was to have 2WD and 4WD selection on-thefly, and lockable differentials front and rear. Ironically, VW never produced such a vehicle. Though all Syncros were wired to accommodate
the aforementioned options, most left the factory empty handed. It was
basically an “all-wheel-drive” vehicle stuck in a pseudo-4WD. (A fair
share were fitted with a rear locking differential). The Syncro endured
six tumultuous years (none were sold in 1988), and in 1991, export to
the U.S. ended. It is not clear how many Syncros were produced, but
most agree that fewer than 2,000 pop-top models landed on American
soil—enough to stir the imaginations of VW Bus dreamers like me.
Today, Syncro aficionados can complete what VW had overlooked.
Straightforward modifications include on-the-fly 4WD, locking front
77
The VW Westy has a loyal following and has been utilized for overland travel since its inception. (El Toro, Baja)
78
In all the years of
trekking southward,
we’ve never had to
leave a van behind—
or tow one out.
and rear differentials, suspension lifts, taller tires and larger engines—up
to 2.5 liters. VW Bus nirvana coupled with true 4WD capability. The
dream has become a reality.
Case in point: Even hard-core Jeep guys like my friend Ned Bacon
have become believers. As an auto-journalist, Ned has spent most of
his professional life reporting on the most capable 4WD vehicles on the
planet—his overlanding vehicle of choice… a 1986 Syncro Vanagon.
Syncros posses character that is hard to define. In addition to being
capable and practical, they are a barrel of monkeys to drive. It might
be their size, boxy appearance, or that you sit RIGHT ON TOP of the
front wheels. Driving off-pavement or in town, visibility is simply unparalleled. The fact that the engine and transaxle are in the rear, means
the front suspension is much less rigid than that of front-engine vehicles. This translates to the feeling of riding on air. In my opinion,
the Syncro can stand toe-to-toe with any 4WD vehicle. Of course, I’m
admittedly biased.
Back to the Ring & Pinion
As I climbed under Taylor’s van, I was struck by the peculiarity of
the moment. There we were, hundreds of miles away from the droning Los Angeles traffic—sixteen people, four dogs and seven Syncros.
People were milling around, grabbing lunch fixins’ from their fridges, or
popping up their tops for some midday respite. Damon, a young filmOverland Journal Fall 2011
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80
maker collecting footage (and memories) for his upcoming movie, The
Bus, leaned in close with his camera to document our makeshift repair.
An observer from outside our Vanagon clan would surely find this
scene exceptionally hard to grasp, if not downright unbelievable. To
our group, though, this was just another day of exploration, another
obstacle to navigate—we had piloted many in the preceding days.
We had come from an isolated stretch of shoreline known as La
Playa Perdida, (The Lost Coast.) Greeted by empty beaches and abundant fishing, we’d spent the first night camped on a bluff overlooking
the Pacific. Though strong winds buffeted our vehicles throughout the
night, we slept warm and dry in the Westy’s pop-top tents. At some
point in the dark of night, a 40-foot sailboat, piloted by a Canadian
couple, ran aground on the rocky shore not 200 yards from our camp.
In the morning we helped the castaways the best we could; loaning
them a satellite phone and off-loading cargo from the boat they’d called
home for the previous eight years. We were struck by the juxtaposition
of our experiences. However, their enthusiastic attempt to purchase
Editors note: S. Lucas Valdes, owner of Go Westy in Los Osos, California, is
an expert in the field of VW Buses and Syncro Vanagons. He has turned a lifelong passion into a full-time business that employs over 30 people. After a stint in
Baja with Ned Bacon’s Syncro, I was so impressed with these iconic, rear-engine
fun-mobiles, I asked Lucas if he would share his knowledge with us, the Syncrolaymen of the world. The “Bay Window” Bus to his left is the same overlanding
’79 from his “youthful” days. It is now fully restored and semi-retired. Not sure
about the dog…
Photo by Taylor Grant
Ristau
Photo by Damon
Cataviña, Baja
one of our vehicles only served to highlight the similarities of
our collective situation. Though we politely declined the offer,
it was hard not to think, “they just lost their traveling home,
and they desperately want to replace it with one of ours.”
That night we relocated from our bluff camp to seek shelter
from the relentless onshore wind. Tucking the vehicles into a
tight arroyo for the next few days, we relished in the dexterity
of our Syncros and were thankful to be safe and comfortable
in this remote landscape. The feeling made all the more poignant by the devastation of the shipwreck.
As luck would have it, the ring gear in Taylor’s Syncro
had lost just enough teeth for us to perform a semi-magical
repair. We removed the rear axles and positioned the ring
gear (still with missing teeth) in just the right spot to clear the
pinion. He was able to travel the remaining 800 miles of the
trip with only his front wheels pulling him onward.
One of the most enticing attributes of the Syncro is the
simplicity of its systems. When we head to the backcountry, a small
roof-mounted Pelican case holds virtually every part that is likely to
fail. The comfort and self-reliance born of this knowledge is priceless.
In all the years of trekking southward, we’ve never had to leave a van
behind—or tow one out.
That night we circled the wagons in a wide, dry lakebed, cracked in
almost-perfect geometric patterns. We laughed about the previous 48
hours as we crunched our way around our improvised campsite, pulling firewood from the luggage racks and passing around cold ballenas.
As the sky grew milky with stars, I walked away from the group and
watched the scene play out from afar. The desert was quiet and still. The
pop-tops pointed skyward, canoes, surfboards and kayaks were silhouetted against the dark backdrop of mountains in the distance. Embers
from the campfire floated upward, casting a warm hue on our band of
Westys. I could smell fish frying on an open grill and tortillas warming
on the stove. There I was, surrounded by my family and friends, my
VW Syncro glowing in the firelight. Hundreds of miles from the place
where my mail arrives, I never felt closer to home.
81
82
83
New Car Smell
Modifying Toyota’s luxurious 200 Series Land Cruiser
for overland treks to the ends of the earth.
By Harry Wagner
Photos by Harry Wagner and Stephen Jones
84
T
he Land Cruiser community is a tightly knit group with six decades of collective history. While many things have changed through the years, one thing
has remained consistent—their complaints about change. Short wheelbase FJ40
drivers felt the FJ60 was too big and bulky when it debuted in 1980. FJ60 owners found the 80 Series far too expensive and luxurious for trail use. When the independentsuspension 100 Series was introduced, those driving FJ80s couldn’t imagine taking it on a serious expedition. Fortunately, Stephen Jones is not overly sensitive about change. If anything, he
is overly practical. When Toyota introduced the luxurious 200 Series in 2008, he knew it would
be his next overlanding home away from home.
Expectations are high for any vehicle wearing the Land Cruiser surname, and the extensive changes to the 200 were cause for concern—it is a completely different vehicle from the
outgoing, yet superb, 100 Series. Perhaps the biggest change is the suspension, which is a far
cry from the leaf-sprung FJ40s of old. Coil-over springs have replaced the torsion bar front
suspension, allowing for stronger support from aftermarket manufacturers. Toyota’s Kinetic
Dynamic Suspension System (KDSS), a design first introduced on the 2004 Lexus GX470, has
significantly changed the nature of Land Cruiser suspensions. Depending on trail conditions,
KDSS automatically adjusts the front and rear anti-sway bars via a system of interconnected
hydraulic cylinders—a comparison would be to have four disconnectable sway bars. Capability is further enhanced by the addition of “Crawl Control”, which automatically modulates
throttle and braking. Turning it on is akin to setting the cruise control at 1 to 3 mph and having
the traction control engaged. Do these high-tech “improvements” take the skill and fun out of
the overlanding experience? Maybe. But they actually do work—and quite well. Land Cruiser
faithfuls should take solace in the fact that Toyota has not abandoned their backcountry needs.
This new generation is physically larger than any of its predecessors—part of the growth
Slee rock sliders protect soft body panels.
Opposite:
1. A Safari Snorkel protects the motor from airborne contaminants and during deep-water
crossings.
2. African Outback 100 Series drawer system
was modified for the cargo area.
3. A Blue Sea solenoid provides charging selection to one or both batteries.
4. Extended range is possible with a 47-gallon
Australian-made Long Ranger auxiliary fuel
tank.
5. Joe Risavi of Slee Off Road built designed a
tubular roll bar and aluminum storage bins in
place of the rear seat.
6. Slee rear bumper, fuel can rack and spare tire
mount. Two five-gallon Scepter fuel cans add
to the already impressive 1,000-mile range.
7. A compact ARB CKSA12 air compressor fits
snugly under the hood.
8. Quick-disconnect shower fittings are nestled
into the engine bay.
9. Dual Optima Red Top batteries ensure sufficient power for electrical accessories.
10.The Warn 9.5xp is wrapped in Master-Pull
synthetic winch line.
11.Trimming the quarter panel provided room
for a Slee rear bumper and spindle-mounted
rack system.
12.Dual latches secure the swing-out tire carrier
and cargo rack.
5.
9.
10.
1.
11.
2.
6.
3.
7.
4.
8.
85
12.
A Technitop tent provides for comfortable and dry accommodation in any climate.
86
“As with all modern vehicles,
reliance on electronic engine management remains an open question,
but is something we increasingly
need to prepare for as older vehicles
finally bite the dust.” Steve Jones
needed to accommodate the gargantuan 3UR engine. The 5.7L V8, which is shared with the
Tundra, is one of the most powerful Toyota offerings to date, and runs on standard unleaded
fuel. Though a diesel variant is offered in much of the world, the V8 LC owners will never
worry of low-temperature gelling or damaging particular filters. In keeping with the industry
trend towards longer service intervals and sealed components, the fuel filter is “not” serviceable. It might be a good idea to strain fuel from dodgy Third World filling stations.
Behind the engine, is a new six-speed automatic transmission, which combined with the
3.91 differential gears, yields reasonable fuel economy for the vehicle’s size and mass. As with
the fuel filter, the transmission is a sealed unit—no filter or even a dipstick. Less than ideal qualities in an overland vehicle that is subjected to harsh use in remote environments—but it does
make a strong case for Toyota’s commitment to the longevity of components.
Expanding the foundation
While the 200 Series makes an excellent foundation for an expedition vehicle, Steve recognized that it was just that: a foundation. The Amazon Green 200, with under 3,000 ticks on the
odometer, was placed in the custody of Land Cruiser outfitter Slee Off Road.
The first issue to address was ride height, as ground clearance was reduced by an inch
compared to the 100 Series. Fortunately, the front suspension components are the same as the
Tundra, and Old Man Emu already had heavy-duty replacement coilover shocks available. The
rear suspension shared a four-link, coil-spring configuration similar previous Land Cruisers—
since the 80 Series. Old Man Emu springs and dampers were utilized here as well. The additional
three inches of altitude provided clearance for a set of 285/65 R18 Nitto Terra Grappler tires—
the OEM alloy rims were retained.
87
Rising to 20,320 feet, Denali means “The High
One” in the native language of the Koyukon Athabaskan people.
Specifications
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• 2008 Toyota Land Cruiser URJ200
• 32-valve 5.7L 3UR V8 engine
• AB60F six-speed automatic
transmission (3.33 first gear)
• JF2A full-time gear-driven transfer
case (2.62 low range)
• 180-liter Long Ranger auxiliary fuel tank
• Old Man Emu 3-inch suspension system
• 285/65 R18 Nitto Terragrapplers,
OEM rims
• Front/rear ARB air lockers, 3.91 gear
ratio
• ARB high-performance compressor
• ARB front bull bar
• Warn 9.5xp winch, Master-Pull
synthetic line
• Lightforce 240 lights
• Slee Off Road slider steps
• Slee Off Road rear bumper, tire and
jerry can carriers
• Blue Sea dual-battery system, Optima
Red Top batteries
• On-board shower with Sure-Flo pump
• Icom 2m HAM radio
• African Outback drawer system and
roof rack
• Slee Off Road custom aluminum
storage
• Engel 45-quart freezer/fridge
• Technitop roof top tent and awning
The factory spare tire, which sits under the rear cargo area, was removed to make room
for a 47-gallon (180-liter) Long Ranger auxiliary fuel cell—raising total capacity to 70 gallons.
Outback, excessive amounts of bulging OE plastic were trimmed away to fit a Slee rear bumper
system, which supports a pair of swing-out racks for the spare tire and two 5-gallon fuel or water cans. Up top, an African Outback aluminum roof rack supports a Technitop roof top tent
and set of MaxTrax sand ladders. A second fullsized spare was also fitted to the rack.
At the business end of the Cruiser, an ARB bull bar cradles a Warn 9.5xp winch wrapped
in Master-Pull synthetic winch rope. The ARB was selected due to its compliance with modern
airbag systems—should an errant elk be encountered on the Al-Can Highway. Lightforce 240
HIDs, controlled by OE Toyota switches on the dash, accompany an Icom 2-meter radio antenna on the bull bar.
Under the hood, an ARB air compressor and a pair of Optima Red Top batteries were
shoehorned into the already-crowded engine bay. To keep everyone clean on long treks in the
backcountry, a Helton heat exchanger, Sure-Flow pump with quick disconnects, and Blue Sea
switches were added.
The beloved folding rear jump seat has been a Land Cruiser staple since the early days of the
FJ40, and the 200 Series is no different. Unfortunately, it had to go. The additional space provided for the installation of an African Outback drawer system. Since there were no aftermarket
products available, Slee Off Road modified a 100 Series drawer system to fit. The flat-deck
drawers provide lockable storage for recovery gear, camping supplies, and camera equipment,
without conceding any floor space. The second row of seating was also removed, and replaced
with custom aluminum storage dividers, also from Slee, and a 45-quart Engel freezer/fridge. An
auxiliary fuse panel was also added to accommodate additional electronics.
The First Scratch Is the Deepest
Of course, all of the accoutrements in the world don’t count for much when they are sitting
in the garage. Steve frequently uses his Cruiser to explore the remote corners of Utah and his
adopted home state of Colorado. The 200 has also taken him north to Prudhoe Bay, Alaska,
and as far south as Cabo San Lucas on the Baja peninsula—though not all has been trouble free.
Land Cruiser purists will bristle at some of the situations Steve recalled for us. “I discovered
an issue where the security system would disable the electronics on the vehicle and keep it from
starting. Switching to the second battery did not resolve the issue, but shutting the ajar rear passenger door did?” A broken windshield on the Alcan Highway caused a delay of several days
(for the replacement to be shipped from the lower-48) and came with a $1,500 price tag. Thus,
there are some considerations when choosing an overlanding vehicle with more wiring than the
Space Shuttle.
Fortunately, most of the issues have proven to be minor. Upon returning from a trip to Baja,
he was turned back at the border due to excessive sand and mud clinging the 200’s body. The
U.S. Agriculture inspector stating that importing soil needs a permit and the vehicle would have
to be cleaned. The solution: he found a few locals with dirty rags, cranked up the hot shower and
put them to work. “I can still hear the sand grinding through the paint,” he jokes.
When the next generation (210 Series?) Land Cruiser is introduced; we might expect the
cost barrier to be to the point where adventuresome 200 Series owners will be able to make the
transition. It will no doubt be appointed with yet another three miles of wiring and a few dozen
new electronic gizmos. The purists will still rant, the Luddites will threaten rebellion, but we’ll
bet the new form will have rear jump seats and be fit for the trail—save a few modifications.
And Steve’s rig—likely strafed, bruised and lacking any new car smell—will be the contemporary example of “how to” build one of those “old” 200 Series classics.
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90
Lessons from Ethiopia
A heartwrenching story of travel and loss.
By Janet Wilson
Editor’s note: As we venture into the remote corners of the planet, there are underlying risks we are aware of,
but tend to dismiss from our consciousness. Editing this heartbreaking account of Janet and her husband Tom’s
experience in Ethiopia brought tears to my eyes. Overland Journal would like to thank her for sharing it.
Cape Town to Cairo is one of the most
celebrated overland routes on the planet. For
my husband Tom and me, who both grew up
in Southern Africa, completing this trek had
been a lifelong dream. Tom is a geologist by
trade, and our married life began in the bush,
living in a canvas tent. Tom spending his days
trekking on foot through the African scrub
with a plane table and theodolite—tools of
the trade before GPS. In his off time, we’d
set off in our four-wheel drive, learning by
necessity the proper use of a Hi-Lift jack
and winch, and how to manage our vehicle in
rough terrain. We moved to Canada in 1979,
but the allure of Africa never died. In 2005,
we’d finally committed ourselves to a Cape
to Cairo adventure—the first of three overland journeys on the continent. Even with our
experience in the field, little could have prepared us for the immense landscapes, diverse
cultures and unimaginable wildlife we would
encounter.
The excitement of new experiences and
anticipation were life affirming—the sense
of achievement from overcoming obstacles
was intoxicating and empowering. The African continent challenged our preconceptions,
forever changing the way we view the world
and ourselves. It would challenge our values,
judgement and character, and teach us how
fragile life really is.
While we knew the rewards would be significant, we were also aware of potential risks.
It was always easier to focus on the enjoyable
and exciting aspects than dwelling on what
might go wrong. We had, however, discussed
how we would handle potential worst-case
scenarios—remain alert, be aware of our environment and surroundings at all times.
Traveling in Ethiopia offers access to
91
some of the world’s most ancient sacred religious sites and
unique and unusual cultures. But it’s a challenging environment and not for the faint of heart. Six months into our
dream trip, preparing to exit Ethiopia and enter Sudan, our
journey took a tragic turn. In a moment, we were thrown into
an overlander’s worst nightmare. It is with great sadness and
difficulty that I share with you our last days in Ethiopia. This
is our story.
Road conditions in Ethiopia lie somewhere between bad
and dangerous. Constant dust obscures your view and goats,
cows and donkeys wander across the track. And, Ethiopians
have the reputation of being the world’s worst pedestrians.
They, the entire village, treat the road like a town square (walk-
into a dusty stark examination room with a stretcher, bare
desk and a dirty sink in the corner. “He is gone,” wept Tom,
“he died in my arms.” The doctor arrived and announced, “I
am here to determine the cause of death and then you will be
fully accountable.” He pulled the blanket down and glanced
at the lifeless boy. Looking at the child’s bandaged head he
said, “He died of intracranial bleeding.” The little boy had
a large gash at the back of his head, but there was not another mark on his body. He must have fallen backwards and
hit his head on a rock. The doctor pulled the blanket up
over the child’s face before turning to leave the bare room.
Overwhelmed by sadness I began to weep. “Why are you
crying?” the doctor demanded to know. “Children die all the
He and I looked each other directly in the eyes, I saw
his soul, and then he disappeared beneath the car.
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ing, playing games, and socializing are commonplace), and
seem completely oblivious to the dangers of traffic. It was
in one of these villages, less than 30 minutes from the Sudan
border, where I hit and killed a young Ethiopian child.
Under Ethiopian law, a pedestrian always has the right of
way. If there is a fatal accident, the driver is sent to prison until
a settlement is agreed to, regardless of the cause. It has been
recommended that if involved in an accident of any kind,
not to stop—continue driving to the nearest police station
because of the very high risk of being the target of a mob
revenge attack.
We had just passed the village of Metema when I saw
about 30 children and adults ahead, stretched across the entire road. I slowed down and hooted and they all scattered to
the sides. Then, a little boy simply changed his mind and ran
right back into our path. I was going so slowly that he actually
grabbed the bull bar. He and I looked each other directly in
the eyes, I saw his soul, and then he disappeared beneath the
car.
In a sense of disbelief of what had just happened, we
stopped and got out of the car. The little boy lay motionless
in a pool of blood. As I ran to get our medical kit, a busload
of people arrived. I yelled to Tom to come and help me as I
was having difficulty dislodging the medical kit from under
the boxes.
Unable to hear my screams above commotion and the
noise, Tom watched the crowd trying to gauge their mood. I
managed to get the medical kit and attend to the child. I am
a nurse, and attempted to assess and stabilize his condition.
Tom appeared and above the wails and shouts, I yelled at him
to bring me a blanket.
Tom picked the boy up in his arms and we returned to
the car. The crowd was screaming at us in Amharic, banging
on the car and trying to stop us from leaving. We managed to
understand that the father of the child wanted to come with
us. Tom opened the door and a sobbing man got in.
When we arrived at the medical clinic we were ushered
time. If he hadn’t died today he would have died later of malnutrition or disease. I see it every day. So stop crying; you are
lucky that they didn’t put a bullet in your head.”
The police arrived and I was taken into a small grubby
office at the clinic to wait alone—out of sight of the agitated and restless crowd that was growing outside. Tom went
to meet the local police chief and to arrange for a vehicle to
take the boy’s body and the father back to their village. Fortunately, a nurse who spoke some English appeared and he
explained to me what was happening. Trying to reassure me
he said, “You will need to pay the family something, and then
perhaps you will only spend a month or even only a few weeks
in prison; it is not too bad. Don’t be sad.” It was the beginning
of so much kindness shown to us by the Ethiopians who assisted us over the next few days.
Several hours later Tom returned with a truckload of distraught people and the police. We left in a convoy for the police station. Once the crowds were certain we were in proper
custody, the truck full of people, the father, and child’s body
left for the boy’s village.
The station was comprised of several tin office shacks
around a dusty, grubby courtyard. Each office contained a
desk with messy piles of paper and a phone. Opposite each
desk stood two plastic chairs. A hole in the tin wall was the
window, a single light bulb hung from the ceiling. In the center of the courtyard was a secure wooden shack with no windows. No one opened the door; the police simply shouted to
the persons inside. I assumed it was the local prison.
Another crowd gathered in the courtyard, whispering
among themselves and watching us closely. Tom and I were
each given a plastic chair to sit on in the courtyard while the
police discussed their next steps. Tom managed to contact the
Canadian Embassy on our satellite phone and informed them
of our situation.
After some discussions between the Embassy and the
Regional Headquarters Chief of Police, I was informed that
I would not be arrested, but they were going to impound our
car and our passports. They allowed us to get some toiletries
and then escorted us to a “safe and secure” location for the
night. For our safety, we were told we were not to leave the
enclosure, be seen, or go near the car—the “family may return
for a revenge attack.” We were to be escorted to Gondar (the
nearest town) the following morning.
It was a restless night; the tiny room was hot, dusty, and
stuffy. During the evening, the local district police chief and
his assistant arrived in plain clothing and wanted to meet with
Tom. They offered to help us get to the Sudan border, but
it would it would cost us $1,000 and it would have to be a
“secret.” After some thought of all the possible outcomes,
Tom told them that he could not agree to anything that was
illegal. The police seemed somewhat shocked that, at the cost
of only USD $1,000, we would prefer not to make a dash for
the border. They were however, respectful of our wishes and
continued to assist us through the processes.
Under a police convoy, we arrived in Gondar in the late
afternoon. We met with the District Police and a translator.
Several phone calls were made to the Embassy, who continued to monitor our situation. The family arranged for their
own translator and we all met to discuss the options. The
family agreed that we would “settle out of court” and negotiations would take place the following day.
Understanding a third-world judicial system, the formal
or unofficial systems, and the value of a life is difficult. Rules
change, different people come and go, and everything is
handwritten on plain pieces of paper. There were no computers, no forms, and no official stamps. I signed the agreement,
written in both Amharic and English. After the payment was
complete, we were to go to the boy’s village so his mother
could sign the document. We turned to leave the office when
yet another demand was made. The stern looking police chief
said, “We need agreement from the Canadian Embassy that
they will return Janet to Ethiopia at any time should we want
to question her further.”
It had been four days since the accident, we were both
exhausted, and finally Tom had had enough. He was firm, and
told them we were not prepared to do that. We had signed
all the papers and we needed to leave. The policeman then
returned my passport and we departed, again under a police
escort, to the boy’s village where we would meet his mother
and village elders—a four-hour drive.
With their guns at-the-ready, the police accompanied us into the village center. The townspeople were sitting
on wooden benches around a large tree, waiting for us. We
were greeted with wails and cries, and I saw a young pretty
woman clutching a small pair of boy’s pants, weeping softly
into them. She slowly made her way towards us, and with no
words spoken we gently shook hands. We were seated on a
bench next to the family and the police officer addressed the
assembly. I wept, as nothing prepared me for such sadness.
There was some discussion between the village elders and the
policeman. He then turned to me and said, “The people want
you to say something.”
I struggled to find the right words, how to share my sorrow over what had happened. I expressed my grief as a moth-
er of sons, I apologized for the accident, and I thanked all
those who had helped us during this time.
The officer translated my words and there was some more
discussion among the villagers. Finally, the policeman turned
to me again and said the villagers knew it was an accident and I
should not cry for the boy. We stood up to go when the mother approached me slowly. Through the translator she thanked
us for stopping, rendering first aid and taking the boy to a
clinic. We stood together, both mothers in our own grief and
sadness. I approached her and together we held each other
and cried.
They were astonished that total strangers should feel sadness at the boy’s death. “Don’t cry,” said the translator, “by this
time next year she will have another; children die all the time.
You should not feel sad.”
After signing the papers, the child’s family invited us for
tea. We entered their little mud hut, and with no words spoken
I learned the importance of forgiveness. I hugged the mother
and we left.
Under police convoy, we reached the main road and the
Sudanese border. Before departing, the police again expressed
their amazement that we actually stopped at the scene, that we
gave first aid and took the child to the clinic, and compensated
the family. “Even Ethiopians would not have stopped after
the accident,” the police declared.
The accident was horrendous, yet from it we met some
very kind people. We saw a side of an Ethiopian family and
community that we would never have otherwise had the opportunity to witness. We experienced the Ethiopians as compassionate and kind, the family and village community, forgiving, and gentle. Perhaps they too had experienced a different
side of white foreign tourists. Hopefully, we are all now wiser
and more understanding about each other. I know Tom and I
are.
As overlanders, this experience has engrained the importance of doing the right thing, no matter how difficult it may
be—of always acting with respect, compassion, and humility,
and when confronted by officials, sticking to ones core values. And, no matter how carefree and exciting your next adventure may sound, never leave home without being mentally
prepared, with a plan for the worst, should it happen. We continue our love of overlanding and global travel, and feel the
lessons learned along the way have made us better people.
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In Colorado, We Stay the Trail
Free downloadable OHV maps available online.
www.staythetrail.org
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The Rebirth of an Original Desert Sled
Editor Chris Collard rides the retro-modern
Jack Pine 850 Triumph Scrambler.
By Chris Collard
A
few months ago I received an email from Ray Hyland, Overland Journal’s Director of Marketing. He said
that he’d lined up a motorcycle for me to use, a shortterm loaner. “A really cool motorcycle” were his actual
words. Ray didn’t know this at the time, but it had been two decades
since I had slipped on a brain bucket, thrown my leg over the seat of
a motorcycle, and heaved my 200 pounds down on the kick-starter.
However, back in the day, if I didn’t spend three days a week riding, it
was most likely because I had a broken leg. I clicked on the attached file
and an old Triumph desert sled appeared on my screen. A quick study
of the bike revealed a few things—First, it appeared to be immaculately restored; second, it was missing a kick-starter…odd, and third…
it wasn’t so “old.”
If you read my Journal Entry in this issue, you know that my early
years, from age two to five, were spent atop the tank of my dad’s 250
Greeves in the Southern California desert. It was an era when BSA,
Norton, Montesa and Triumph ruled the track, and the California riding scene was abuzz with anticipation of a new and upcoming event
called Barstow to Vegas (B to V). Races such as B to V, which hosted
up to 3,000 competitors, became know as “scrambles.” Riders would
line up across the desert handlebar-to-handlebar, when the starting gun
fired, it was a mad scramble to the first turn.
At the time, trail bikes were not much more than modified street
rides. Headlights, taillights and turn signals would be removed, fenders
trimmed or relocated, banana seats exchanged for flat, “monkey butt”
units, and knobby tires added. If the billfold overfloweth, a custom
bash plate (the impetus behind the “desert sled” moniker) and upgrading the front springs might set you apart from the field. Yet I digress…
The not-so-old desert sled before me drew my attention further.
Black in scheme with a matte-finish tank, it sported a few selectively
placed chrome bits. The clean lines were without question “Scrambler,”
but with the refinement of a contemporary work of art. This was a
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The clean lines were without question
“Scrambler,” but with the refinement of
a contemporary work of art.
2008 Jack Pine Triumph from Hammarhead Industries. Low and lean,
with a squared-off stance, it lacked the gangly accessories of current
street and dual-sport offerings. Like its predecessors, it was clean and
mean. My mind spun back to my youth (not that I don’t have a little
“youth” left in me). I had to ride this bike. I also knew I needed to open
a closed chapter in my Book of Life.
James Loughead is the brainchild behind Hammarhead Industries.
With the singular focus on building simple yet modern motorcycles, the
company has perfected the craft of transforming present-day OEM offerings, into retro-modern bikes of the past. The four models currently
available are the Royal Enfield Woodsman 500, Volta 102 electric, Ural
Solo X, and the Triumph T100-based Jack Pine 850. None of the bikes
in this lineup, save the Volta, are built for smooth street gliding, fast
single tracks or economy. Their sole purpose on this planet is to provide the rider with a pure, seat-of-your-pants experience. In this case…
me—even if only for a few weeks.
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The Jack Pine
As with desert sleds of bygone days, awkward fixtures such as mirrors, instruments, lights and fenders, had been stripped away from the
base T100 Triumph. With a minimalist approach, replacements were
chosen with discretion or fabricated from scratch.
The headlamp, a simple dual-beam unit, is fitted with a digital
speedometer recessed in its upper surface—the analogue-to-digital
converter receiving its signal from the stock speedo cable. As for turn
signals, at first glance I would have bet they’d been overlooked. Closer
inspection revealed a pair of quarter-sized orange lenses tucked into
the upper forks and rear of the frame. Though they function, I’m not
sure how functional they are—I’d need to be heavy on the hand signals.
After removing the factory seat, fenders, passenger foot pegs and
frame mounts, the rear of the frame was shortened by four inches.
Hammarhead alloy fenders were added fore and aft, the rear holding a
small LED taillight. A shorter “monkey butt” seat, based on the shape
of a Honda CL450k1, completes the rear trim. The absence of bulky
OEM debris provides the Jack Pine with clean, unadulterated lines, and
adheres to the bike’s classic lineage.
The feel is powerful and raw—a seatof-your-pants ride where each firing of
the cylinders is felt in your spine and
stimulates the senses.
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Though top-of-the line for their time, desert sleds were never
known for a comfortable ride. They were built for rough-and-tumble,
handlebar-to-handlebar scrambles across wide-open terrain. Their suspensions needed to be tough, and were modified appropriately (hightech for the era). Loughead took this to heart. The rear shocks, sourced
from Works Performance in Canoga Park, CA, sport remote reservoirs,
tighter valving and heavy-duty springs. Up front, stiffer springs and
heavier oil, also from Works, improve the ride over uneven terrain.
Unlike the 650 cc Triumphs of the 60s, the present-day mill displaces 865 cc and is tuned with a slight nod towards economy. To address the motor’s lean factory settings, specific attention was directed
towards intake and exhaust. The twin Keihin CR carburetors, which
are jetted for performance and fitted with K&N air filters, route fuel
through custom CNC-milled plenums—inspired by vintage T120TT
units. To accommodate this assembly, the factory air box has been replaced with an aluminum box that holds the rectifier/regulator and ignition switch. Spent gases exit via a Zard two-into-one pipe. Unless you
ride with asbestos-insulated pants, this configuration bides better than
the twin straight pipes shown on the company’s website.
Other cool additions were a pair of billet pegs, sprocket cover, mirror, and Continental Twinduro knobby tires (130/80-17 rear, 110/8019 front). And, no desert sled would be complete without squared-off
MX handlebars and a solid bash plate under the frame.
A bare bones ride like this, one with pedigree and lineage dating
back five decades, was deserving of the wide-open expanses of the
American West. Twenty-four hours after I picked up the Jack Pine, I
bungeed a sleeping bag to the seat, stuffed my daypack with the basics,
and headed over the Sierras for the high deserts of Nevada. I wouldn’t
return for six days, and ultimately spun more than 1,000 miles on the
odometer—I correct myself, there is no odometer—I’ll say, “on the
rear tire.” More on this adventure in a future issue of the Journal…
First Ride
Turning the key to the “on” position and pressing my thumb
against the starter button, the big twin-cylinder thumper crackled to
life like a top-fuel dragster—sputtering and spitting, and reverberating
off my metal garage door. Rolling my right hand back on the throttle
and slowly easing out the clutch, I could sense each stroke of the piston rods as they forced down on the crank with purpose and authority;
sending a 68 hp pulse through the gearbox and down the chain to the
rear tire. Shifting through the gears, each release of the clutch pulled my
hands hard against the grips—the knobby tires clawing for traction, the
bike begging for more. The feel is powerful and raw—a seat-of-yourpants ride where each firing of the cylinders is felt in your spine and
stimulates the senses. It gave me the feeling of… freedom.
Upon my return, my dad, who had lined up for the inaugural Barstow-to-Vegas scramble in 1967, took the Jack Pine for a spin around
the block. He returned with an ear-to-ear grin, musing about Bud Ekins, Steve McQueen and jumping a 650 Triumph over the barbed-wire
fence of a Germany POW camp (I’ll need to re-watch The Great Escape).
We stood around my steed with a cup of coffee, reminiscing on the
old days, of a simpler time. Anticipating my solo ride to Nevada, I said
to him, “Dad, these are the good old days.” There may be a father-son
Baja ride in our future.
Hammarhead is a small operation with a no-compromise philosophy about what they produce. This is clearly apparent in the attention
to detail in their work. Due to the limited availability of donor T100
Triumphs, Hammarhead produces an extremely scant number of Jack
Pines—there will be just four available in 2012 at a price of $16,500.
I’m not one of the lucky four on the client list, so I’ll eventually need to
return the Jack Pine to its rightful owner. In the meantime, I think I’ll
put a few more miles on the, uh, rear tire.
Specifications
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
Base bike: Triumph T100 Scrambler
Engine: 850 cc, twin-cylinder, four-stroke
Custom compact oil cooler
Zard 2-into-1 pipe
Keihin CR carburetors
CNC aluminum plenum
K&N air filters
Hammarhead air box with electronics
Works Performance shocks
Custom turn signals headlamp and digital speedometer
Frame shortened 4 inches
Hammarhead bash plate and alloy fenders
Hammarhead seat
Vintage-style MX handlebars
CNC alloy mirror and sprocket cover
Paint: stealth flat black
1.
5.
2.
6.
10.
3.
7.
11.
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4.
8.
12.
9.
13.
1. Classic “monkey butt” seat accommodates the cropped rear frame. 2. Basic dual-beam headlamp. Note placement of front turn signal. 3. Zard 2-into-1
pipe. 4. Spurgin compact aluminum oil cooler. 5. The twin Keihin CR carburetors, K&N air filters, CNC-milled plenums. 6. Billet aluminum mirror. 7. Brake hydraulics and quarter-sized recessed DOT-legal turn signal. 8. The only instrument is a small digital speedometer. 9. Classic “desert sled” aluminum bash plate.
10. Twin caliper disk brakes (255 mm rear, 310 mm front). Work Performance Pro Piggyback shocks. Continental Twinduro 130/80-17 knobby. 11. Hammarhead billet aluminum sprocket guard. 12. Unneeded accessories removed and black levers added. 13. Hammarhead rear fender with integrated LED tail lamp.
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OVERLAND CONSERVATION
Roseann Hanson
Strong silent type
One of the biggest distractions while game viewing on safari is the rattlerattle-rattle of diesel 4WDs as they approach a pride of lions feeding on
a kill, or elephants relaxing under a baobab. In extreme cases, the ratchety clatter can even irritate elephants, which is something you definitely
want to avoid. Axeon, Europe’s leading manufacturer of lithium-ion
battery systems, has joined forces with Land Rover South Africa to fit
an electric motor into the engine bay of a Defender 110 pickup, replacing the standard 2.4-liter diesel. The result has impressed not only Land
Rover Experience’s team during rigorous trials at the Gerotek test facility, but seasoned safari operators as well. Due to its quiet operation, the
vehicle, which has a range three times the average game-drive, has also
been able to get closer to animals within game parks. From a conservation perspective, the carbon dioxide emissions are now zero (compared
to 295 grams/km out of the diesel), and the viewing experience is as
quiet as the footsteps of a six-ton elephant. axeon.com (News & Events)
Exploration Roundup
Antarctic, Land of Future, lead by
South Korean Young Seok Park, became the first carbon-free expedition to cross Antarctica earlier this
year. The feat coincides with the
100th anniversary of Roald Amundsen's historic Antarctic exploration,
and the spring 2011 release of the
documentary, Antarctic, Land of Future, by Seoul Broadcasting System
(search YouTube for a preview). The
team used electric-powered snowmobiles, recharged en route by solar
modules and wind turbines.
On a smaller scale but no less important, a group of friends, wishing to honor the man who inspired them to get out and explore,
has started The Ted Simon Foundation. The foundation’s mission is to encourage “those who adventure into the world to go
the extra mile and transform their experiences into something of
value for the world to share.” The foundation will support “Jupiter’s Travellers” and choose annual winners of the Jupiter Awards.
jupiterstravellers.org
Next, if you fancy exploring closer to home in a new Jeep, the
National Park Foundation will be auctioning off a Jeep from
XPLORE Vehicles this fall to raise funds for America’s beleaguered parks. Details forthcoming. Check the foundation website.
xplorevehicles.com, nationalparks.org
Eco-Overlanding Noteworthy efforts around the globe
Project Mobility 4x4 With a dream and a few old Land
Rovers, Sally Povolotsky and friends started the U.K.based Project Mobility 4x4. The simple idea was to adapt
the vehicles to be driven by disabled veterans. “It started
when I wanted to do more than put a £1 in a pot, and
Land Rovers is all I know,” said Povolotsky, director of
Mammouth Chequerplate. The year-old project now has
a fleet of at least six Land Rovers, serving up adventure
for men and women who are struggling with amputation
or other disability. Project Mobility offers veterans practical help, emotional support, and the chance to enjoy adventure and new challenges through rallies and custom
African safaris. The team has recently launched a mechanics’ skills-training program, to enhance employment
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opportunities as veterans transition into civilian life. They
are looking for help to create and run an accessible garage
on the edge of Exmoor National Park, U.K., where trainees
can come for a week, weekend, or longer, depending on their
rehabilitation program. projectmobility4x4.org
OVERLAND MEDICINE
Andrew Cull
Remote Medical
Pediatric Medical Concerns
with Overlanding Kids
Overcoming fears about packing up your
children and heading for the backcountry.
D
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Overlanding with kids
With a little preparation and training,
you can confidently travel with your
kids; building a life-long love for
adventure and exploration.
uring the past two years at
the Overland Expo, I’ve
met some amazing parents; many of whom have
traveled the globe with their children in tow.
I talked to a couple this year who took their
daughters, five and nine years old, through
Africa for several months—others ventured
deep into the Central American jungles, also
with their kids. As a father of two young
daughters preparing for our first overland adventure together, I found these parents to be
amazingly cool and inspiring. The girls and I
have been practicing the word “adventure”
and staying in our OzTent in the backyard at
night, the two of them tucked into their pink
sleeping bags with their baby dolls. I am encouraged by parents like those at Overland
Expo. There are few ways to do better for the
world than exposing our kids to these amazing places. This being said, there is clearly a
prevalent fear among many parents for a pediatric emergency in an area where help is far
away. While these fears are understandable, I
hope to abate some of those feelings by sharing a bit of knowledge and some preparation
skills. Maybe we’ll downgrade apprehension
to empowered concern.
Taking preventive measures to control
potential hazards is the most important action
you can take to protect your children. Some
of the common dangers in overlanding are
the same as in your own home: a hot stove,
falls, fire, water, and access to chemicals such
as camp fuel. All too often people fear wild
animals and getting lost, but as a rescue professional I see a lot more children burned by
campfires than attacked by aggressive fauna.
It is important to remember that while exotic diseases and animal attacks get television
time, it is most often common illness or injury that ends a trip. The measures you take
to check the child-seat, ensure seat belts are
on, and ensure a hot stove is protected, all decrease the potential for injury.
As a regular contributor to the Overland
Journal, I include this theme of prevention
throughout my writing. Proactive management, sometimes something as basic as washing hands, could prevent a majority of cases I
see. With a little preparation and knowledge,
you can manage these risks relatively well. According to the Centers for Disease Control
(CDC), the top four most common conditions affecting traveling children are diarrheal
illness, malaria, and vehicle and water-related
accidents. This is in alignment with my personal experience in the field of emergency
medicine.
Diarrheal illness is one of the most dangerous medical conditions affecting children
worldwide. The virus is often transmitted by
dirty hands, contaminated water, contaminated food, contact with fecal matter, and
pets. Therefore, a plentiful supply of alcoholbased hand sanitizer is a smart investment to
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prevent the transmission of bacteria and viral causes. Clean water is
important but not always easy to control, I know my daughters sometimes drink the water they swim in before we can stop them. If you
travel with pets, keep them away from the area where you prepare your
food or child’s bottles. Think “Prevention first, treatment if necessary.”
The illness in itself is not the primary challenge; it is the dehydration
caused by diarrhea that puts kids at risk. If your little one has diarrhea,
keeping him or her hydrated is the focus of treatment. In most cases
the illness should pass within several days without complications. Oral
rehydration solution or Pedialyte® is the best fluid of choice; however
if your child is still breast-feeding, then breast milk or formula is more
appropriate. All of these solutions are electrolyte-balanced, which help
maintain the equilibrium of salt and minerals in the body—soda, juice,
or sports drinks can make it worse. Over-the-counter anti-diarrheal
medication, which is formulated for adults, is not recommended for
children due to concerns over safety and efficacy.
Symptoms of serious dehydration include a dry and sticky mouth,
lack of urination and lack of tears while crying. Rehydration is extremely important at this stage and you should seek immediate medical
care or telephone consultation. Signs of more severe diarrheal illness
include a fever over 102°F, refusing to drink fluids, blood or mucous
present in diarrhea, prolonged episodes or diarrhea with severe abdominal pain. These signs and symptoms are relatively rare, but indicate that
it is time to seek urgent medical care.
Malaria is caused by a parasite carried in mosquitos. It is known for
its famous fever and chills, as well as killing approximately one million
people annually. It is not common in America, but can be found nearly
everywhere in Mexico, Asia, South America, and Africa. Earlier this
week I talked with one of our doctors here at RMI, a well-known malaria expert. He said that the experts estimate that half of all premature
deaths in human history have been caused by malaria. The good news is
that malaria can easily be prevented for both you and your family.
Since malaria is transmitted by a mosquito bite, using liberal applications of mosquito repellant and taking preventive medication is
the best way to avoid contracting the disease. If you are traveling to
known malarial zones, you should visit your healthcare provider’s travel
medicine clinic at least six weeks before departure. They will initiate
appropriate proper vaccinations and antimalarial prescriptions for you
and your children. They will also provide a personal “Yellow Card,” or
record of immunizations, for each member of the family. The CDC
website has a wealth of information on malaria and other travel-related
illness. cdc.govmalaria
Vehicle and water-related accidents rank third on the CDC list.
The regular precautions you take at home, ensuring proper restraint
systems and safe driving, are the most important prevention techniques. Drowning and submersion incidents can be prevented with
proper oversight and life jackets—know as Personal Floatation Devices
(PFDs). My observations have been that people sometimes let down
their guard “on vacation” and do things that they wouldn’t normally do
at home. My advice is to simply stay alert and aware of your kids, while
on vacation or not.
Develop confidence in your ability to respond to trauma injuries
by getting some training. In addition to wilderness first aid, you should
add an infant and child CPR certification. The CPR aspect, while imOverland Journal Fall 2011
portant, is not as important as learning to clear a child’s blocked airway.
It isn’t a particularly difficult skill, but learning and mentally practicing
proper technique is important. If you must fall back on your training (it
could be at home, or on a backcountry trip), it will most likely be a situation where every second is crucial.
With proper planning, by building preventive measures into your
trip and attaining the knowledge to effectively deal with common situations, your family can enjoy years of safe and healthy adventures. Below
I’ve provided a short punch list of items to consider acquiring. Stow
them away with your medical kit, and remember—helping your children build a lifelong love of adventure and respect for nature surely far
outweighs the risks.
Pediatric Medical Kit Considerations
• First aid manual (military manuals are good)
• Hand sanitizer, soap (Use hotel bar soaps. They are cheap,
small, and long-lasting.)
• Standard first aid kit
• Any prescription medication the child is currently taking
• Alcohol-based hand sanitizer
• Insect repellent
• Mosquito net
• Oral rehydration solution or Pedialyte®
• Thermometer
• Tylenol®
• Diphenhydramine (Benadryl®)
• Sunscreen
• Extra diapers
• Diaper rash ointment
• Oral syringe for administering medication
• Lifejacket
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SKILLS
Scott Brady
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¡Viva Baja!
The adventurer’s guide to the beaches, dirt tracks
and best tacos on our favorite peninsula.
Photography by Scott and Stephanie Brady,
Cam Brensinger, Chris Collard, and Jeremy Edgar.
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The Sea of Cortez is a haven for both
overlanders and blue water sailors
alike. Previous page: Playa de Aqua
Verde, Baja Sur. With a highly-capable drivetrain and beach-friendly layOverland
Journal Fall
2011
out, the
Sportsmobile
is an
excellent
choice for the Baja traveler.
T
he recoil forces me backward, the shaft releasing from the teak
stock of the Riffe spear gun and driving home into the side
of the triggerfish. I take a moment to pull the fish toward me,
coiling the steel cable on the gun, all the while floating above a
magical aquatic world of blue. Rock outcroppings below provide a haven for
grouper, barracuda and countless reef species—and a great place to fish. The
Cortez waters feel cool against my torso, refreshing me and insulating me
from the endless email and phone calls that occupied my workweek prior. As
I climb onto the pebbled beach, friends smile at my success and hand over a
cold Pacifico. We’ll have sushi in minutes, crushing fresh wasabi and dousing
the cuts with soy sauce. This is paradise—this is Baja.
Getting Started
Traveling in Baja is far easier and safer than most imagine. Once
south of the border cities and their expansive maquiladoras (factories),
the primary source of income for locals is tourism, ranching and fishing. With a few preparations, a robust vehicle and some knowledge,
adventures on Overland Journal’s favorite peninsula can be safe and fun.
The Vehicle
From the first Model Ts driving to Mulegé, to the SCORE races
that have tested man and machine for four decades, Baja has enjoyed
a legacy of epic vehicle travel. The first serious overland trek was
completed in 1925 when Erle Gardner drove from Tijuana to Santa
Rosalía. In 1928, a road to Mulegé was completed and an expedition
from the Automobile Club of Southern California documented the
first useful maps of the peninsula. In 1930, the “road,” a rocky and rutted dirt two-track, was extended all the way to Cabo San Lucas—which
was at the time no more than a single pier and small fishing village. I
have met several Baja aficionados who traversed the peninsula before
the 1973 completion of Mexico 1 (Mex 1, the transpeninsular highway
from Tijuana to Cabo San Lucas). Their stories (see Al Walters’ notes
on page 113) are captivating and filled with accounts of busted frames,
punctured fuel tanks and shredded tires…adventure.
While the entire length of Mex 1 can now be driven in a minivan,
any desire to venture off-pavement should be supported by a sturdy
vehicle. Modifications can be limited, but the base vehicle should be
reliable and 4WD. Of course, just when you are feeling really cool
in your fully-kitted rig, a local will pass you through the brush in a
clapped-out Toyota Corolla—but having the right hardware will improve your odds of trouble-free travel.
Modifications The Toyota Tacoma is a popular choice for Baja
travel, as it affords the simplicity and reliability desired, and can be easily modified (although not necessary cheaply) to handle any road on
the peninsula. As for modifications, they should be kept to a minimum
and favor a lighter, better handling vehicle than an overloaded and unstable monster. The most dangerous things in Baja are the highways,
namely Mex 1. They should not be tackled with 200 pounds of gear on
the roof and a budget suspension hacked together from JC Whitney.
On or off the pavement, one of the most important upgrades is a set
of high-quality tires and matching spare. Size is less important than
construction—which should be light-truck rated with the strongest
carcass possible. I have had excellent success with BFGoodrich AllTerrain TAs, although other tires, including the Goodyear MTR and
Cooper STT, are also known for durable sidewalls. Huge tires are rarely
necessary, although a small increase in diameter over stock will improve running ground clearance and usually provides greater surface
area when aired down—you’ll appreciate this on Baja’s sand and silt
tracks. Compliment the full-sized spare with a complete tire repair kit
and air compressor.
Suspension Careful attention should also be paid to the vehi-
cle’s suspension. Shock and spring failure on Baja’s heavily corrugated
dirt roads are common. If the suspension manages to survive the dirt
tracks, the random vado (dip) or tope (speed bump) on Mex 1 will wreak
havoc on, well… everything else. As a general rule, if the load is light,
stock springs may suffice. However, the shocks should almost always
be upgraded to provide better fade resistance (high-heat thinning and
foaming of the shock oil) and durability (mounting integrity and shaft
diameter). I fitted my 2004 Tacoma with an Icon Vehicle Dynamics
suspension and Deaver rear springs. The ride and handling were sigOverland Journal Fall 2011
109
3.
6.
1.
2.
4.
7.
110
8.
5.
9.
1. Beautiful sea shells line the beaches. 2. Street tacos have never made me sick. Fresh ingredients and quick turnover of the food makes the difference.
3. Fun to look at, but not safe to eat, the shores and shallows are filled with puffer fish. 4. Live music in Todos Santos. 5. Load up the toys, especially a kayak or
two. The Cortez is North America's massive and warm swimming pool. 6. The Patron Saint of Good Housekeeping? The small churches are worth visiting for
their ornate and unique artwork. 7. Cactus are common throughout the peninsula and will do their best to wreck your legs and tires. 8. Baja can indulge every
taste, from $1 street tacos to intimate bed and breakfast delights. 9. Hand-print artwork, compliments of the curious local children.
nificantly better than stock, and the vehicle survived tens of thousands of miles of fully-kitted travel—including prerunning the 2007
Baja 500. A number of manufacturers offer high-quality suspensions
designed to accommodate heavy loads and extended abuse. The key
is quality of construction. Avoid tall ‘suspension lifts,’ as handling is
adversely affected (think emergency lane change around a cow in the
road) and “tall” is not necessary in Baja—I promise.
Navigation
12-volt fridge Though acquiring ice is no longer an issue in Baja,
I highly recommend a 12-volt fridge to keep those Pacificos and fish
fillets fresh. Remember, Baja has long, hot summers. Hot weather travel to the more remote areas of the peninsula can quickly turn the contents of a cooler into a mashed and blended soup-of-mass-destruction.
Having a fresh, cool, dry food supply is a reassuring perk—and the
pure joy that comes from handing an ice cold Coke to the fisherman
who just sold you fresh lobster, unforgettable.
Camping equipment Camping equipment should be sturdy,
For navigation in Baja, I will help
shortcut the research loop and advise you on all of the products that
‘just work’ south of the border. The
first purchase should be the Baja Almanac, a large-format road and topographical atlas of the entire peninsula—all in full color and 1:350,000
scale. For a second/smaller map to
compliment the almanac, or as a primary tool on a moto, the new National Geographic Adventure maps
Baja Almanac
are excellent and durable (one map for
Baja California Norte, and another for Baja California Sur (1:450,000
scale). And don’t forget a good-old whiskey compass.
While GPS is a worthwhile support to paper maps, I have mostly
found it useful for recording a track or marking those perfect campsites and taco shacks. If detailed base maps on your Garmin are the
goal, Larry from LB Maps has the best offering. He aggregates usercontributed tracks to provide the most comprehensive digital backroad data we have found.
Basic Equipment
It is certainly possible to stuff every square inch of your vehicle
with accessories until it is a single shining lump of fear-based compensation—but common sense dictates otherwise. Here are the important
bits:
Safety equipment fire
extinguisher, comprehensive
first aid kit with antibiotic and
gastro-intestinal medications,
and road flares.
Recovery equipment
and tools A high-quality
recovery kit and Hi-Lift jack are
essential. A pair of sand tracks
can be handy, along with a
comprehensive tool kit for your
vehicle. And don’t forget basic
spares (belts, hoses and filters).
yet simple (i.e. serviceable). Most of your cooking will be done in
pleasant outdoor temperatures and settings. Sleeping can be done in
anything from a cot under the stars (my favorite) to a fully integrated
camper. It is important to avoid cluttering your experience with heavy
and distracting gear. Instead, save your money for fuel and an extra
margarita at sunset.
Radios HAM radios are quite useful in Baja, but technically require
a permit from the Mexican telecommunication commission (COFETEL). Mexico does have reciprocal agreements with the U.S. regarding HAM licenses, but the permit should be obtained. We use 2-meter
radios on simplex for vehicle-to-vehicle communications. This greatly
improves safety on the busier paved routes, announcing to drivers behind the presence of donkeys in the road, drunks staggering against
traffic, or a semi wandering dangerously over the yellow line (there are
no shoulders on most paved roads). We have endless stories about the
crazy things we’ve encountered on Mex 1.
Before Leaving
Tourist visa While it is fairly easy to travel in Baja, some pre-plan-
ning is useful. As a matter of convenience, many complete their tourist
visa (FMT) prior to crossing the border (required if traveling south of
the ‘tourist’ zones). This is accomplished most easily through Discover
Baja in San Diego. You can complete the visa application online. The
prepaid visa is sent in the mail, but the migración (immigration) entry
stamp at the border is required for validation.
Vehicle insurance Contrary to popular information, vehicle
insurance is actually not compulsory in Mexico. However, the law does
state “proof of financial responsibility” is required. In the event of a
collision, liability would need to be covered by the driver at fault, and
both vehicles may be detained until compensation has been secured.
Insurance provides access to counsel and limits the detention and impound period. Shelling out a few pesos for a policy gives considerable
peace of mind.
Research It is also worth talking with others who have recently
visited your area of interest—they can often recommend their favorite
beaches and good restaurants, and advise you on current road issues.
Forums like bajanomad.com and expeditionportal.com are good resources,
as is membership with (including cost-effective vehicle insurance)
Vagabundos del Mar travel club. vagabundos.com
MaxTrax sand tracks
111
Guns and Drugs
It is important to do a thorough search of your personal effects
and vehicle prior to crossing the border. Possession of firearms and
ammunition is highly illegal and carries a maximum penalty of 30-years
incarceration. If a federale (military cop) finds a single spent cartridge
rolling around your floorboards, the subsequent and thorough ravaging (search) of your vehicle, in addition to causing delays, will be very
unpleasant and a mess to clean up. Drugs are also a serious offense
and carry similar penalties to those for guns. It is a good idea, as when
traveling in any country, to keep all medications in the pharmacy-labeled container. Mexico operates under Napoleonic Law—essentially
you must prove innocence before charges can be dropped or fines
reversed. Let me say this: NOTHING is worth the risk of 30 years in
a Mexican prison.
As a guest of the Mexican people, you are subject to their laws,
culture and language. Show respect, comply with local laws and customs, and make an effort to speak their language. Even a simple “hola
señor(a)” and “lo siento, yo no hablo español” (I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish) will go a long way.
The Border Crossing
112
Crossing the frontera into Mexico is an easy process, and begins with
a few minutes on the U.S. side cleaning up and organizing your cab. A
neat, tidy vehicle will greatly reduce suspicion and make any inspection much more efficient. When approaching the border zone, you will
likely navigate a maze of concrete pillions on the U.S. side, then a series
of drive-through control gates on the Mexican side. There may be a
drop arm, but most likely there will just be green and red lights on the
driver’s side. Green means continue on, while a red requires you pull
into the inspection station where a federale or aduana (customs) agent
will likely ask a few questions and check the contents of the vehicle.
Our experience has been that they are professional and just doing their
job. Once the inspection is complete, you will want to park, grab your
passport, find the immigration office and obtain the FMT tourist visa.
This is technically not required if your stay is north of Baja Sur and
less than 72 hours. The FMT costs $32 if processed through Discover
Baja and about $20 if obtained at the border. Once these formalities
are complete, “Welcome to Baja.” You may begin your south-of-theborder adventure now.
The Taco
The biggest mistake I made during my early Baja travels was bringing too much food. Yep, the food in Mexico is some of the best in the
world and it is cheap. There are big grocers in the larger cities that may
even have baristas to serve up a double cappuccino. Smaller towns will
always have a market with basic sundries, and usually a restaurant or
two. I’ve had some of the best food in all of my travels in these local
cantinas; just don’t expect to find any nachos or chimichangas.
One of the common questions we receive about travel in Mexico
is whether or not it is safe to eat the food and drink the water. In years
past, food and waterborne illnesses were commonplace, but this is becoming much less of an issue. Over the last few years, I made the decision to start drinking the water, asking for ice in my drinks, and even
eating salad—I’ve yet to experience a single run-in with Montezuma’s
revenge. A more conservative approach would be to skip the salad and
make sure the food you eat is piping hot. In the end (no pun intended),
the likelihood of a problem is minimal. Most gastro-intestinal issues,
when treated with Ammonium AD or antibiotics, pass in a day. I find
the risk worth it. Another taco de camarones (shrimp taco), please.
Camping
It is important to do a thorough search of
your personal effects and vehicle prior to
crossing the border. Possession of firearms
and ammunition is highly illegal and carries a
maximum penalty of 30-years incarceration.
{
TIP
The camping experience in Baja is almost always better than a hotel.
There are exceptions to this in the larger cities, but on most nights I
yearn for the sound of crashing waves and the glow of the Milky Way.
There may be options for campsites near towns and popular beaches,
though that “improvement” might only be a palapa (a thatched, opensided structure) and pit toilet—maybe a shower—that is usually cold.
The best campsites are the remote ones on secluded beaches and isolated arroyos or canyons. It is important to remember that nearly all of the
land in Baja is privately owned or part of a national park. The exception
is the beach, which is public to the high-tide line. If there is a rancho near
your desired campsite, it will be worth stopping in and asking permission to camp. Some respect and a smile can go a long way.
Cities and Towns
Border cities hold few attractions for the adventure traveler. Their
economies are built on a combination of manufacturing and “entertainment” (which unfortunately brings the security issues of any big
city). Most are merely a conduit to the places we really want to go.
Tecate, a pleasant little town famous for its exclusive spa resorts and
nearby brewery of the same name, is one exception to the rule. Tecate
is my favorite crossing point into Baja. This is not to say Baja doesn’t
have any cities worth exploring. La Paz makes the top of the list in this
category. There is a beautiful malecón (esplanade), and beachfront hotels intermixed with variety a of restaurants (even an Irish pub and a
vegan cafe). The atmosphere is casual and relaxed, and with an authentic feel—attributes that have been commercially bleached from Cabo
San Lucas. Loreto is also a nice city to stop in for a taco and resupply on
your way south.
Most small towns are located along the Mex 1 corridor and serve to
refuel vehicle and driver. Though hidden beneath layers of dust, most
have a unique story to tell as well. It might be of Mama Espinosa’s lobster burritos in El Rosario, the lost mission of Santa María near Cataviña, or the mission and verdant lagoons in San Ignacio. Don’t hesitate to
park the truck and walk around a bit. Some basic research in the highly
recommended Baja Adventure Book or Lonely Planet (more current) will
remove much of the guesswork. Baja Legends, by Greg Niemann, is an
excellent source for “insider” information.
Security and Travel Tips
Safety and security is the most frequent discussion point with regard to Baja, and reservations are understandable. U.S. media channels
have painted an alarming picture of Mexico—some of it well deserved.
However, much as the violence in Detroit is not a reflection of safety
in Prescott, the issues in Tijuana have no relevance to the colorful and
inviting Todos Santos. It is important not to be dismissive of the potential dangers, but rather to go equipped with realistic expectations and
accurate information.
Travel tip #1 Avoid traveling at night. This has much less to
do with banditos than it does with open grazing and other hazards
of the night. I still remember coming around a corner and finding a drunk wandering down the road, stumbling in and out of
the lane. The most dangerous thing in Baja is the road, and it must
be approached with vigilance, starting with no driving at night.
Travel tip #2 Keep control of your valuables by locking your ve-
hicle and not leaving cameras, purses or bags on the seats. Violent crime
is rare in Baja, but petty theft, as in any developing country, can be a
problem. The “out of sight” rule has served me well around the world.
Don’t keep large amounts of pesos or dollars in your wallet, but carry
only what you need for the day.
Old-timer’s Take
My first trip to Mexico was back in 1968. We crossed the border at
Laredo and took the Pan American flight from Monterrey to Mexico
City. In 1978, I was introduced to Baja California with a trek to a
beach camp south of Santa María on the Pacific side. In those days
we’d just pull over at a wide spot in the road to camp. There was
no military presence or checkpoints then, and regular (nova) and
diesel were the only fuel options. Pemex stations were few and
far between, so we didn’t pass one without filling our tanks and
jerry cans.
The lure for me has always been the peninsula’s fertile farms and
ranches in the north, snow-capped Sierra San Pedro Martir and
Picacho del Diablo, centuries-old cave paintings, and seventeen
Jesuit missions along the El Camino Real. From whale watching in
Scammon’s Lagoon, to fishing the nutrient rich waters of the Sea
of Cortez, there is a lot to love about Baja. It is a special place with
something new around each bend in the trail. - Al Walter
Overall, Baja is a tranquil and safe place to travel. I have completed dozens of trips into Mexico and have never experienced a problem (other than being subjected to an attempted extortion in Mexico
City, but that is another story). I was in Baja last December with several
friends, including their six-month old daughter—No banditos, just great
memories.
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Baja Norte
The Wine Region One of the best-kept cultural secrets in Baja
is Valle de Guadalupe. Wine production in Baja is older than most
would imagine. The first Vitis Vinifera, planted by Father Ugarte at Mission San Javier in 1701, predated California vintners by nearly a quarter
century. After crossing the border in Tecate, you’ll find the wine region
is a great place to spend the first evening as you begin to settle into Baja
time. We have stayed at Adobe Guadalupe, a beautiful winery with bed
and breakfast accommodations and wonderful meals. It is also possible
to camp in the vineyard with prior permission.
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Laguna Hanson Within an easy drive from the border is Baja
Norte’s high country, a forested region with elevations around 5,000
feet. This beautiful route starts near La Rumorosa and climbs through
the foothills and higher plateaus to the national park Constitución de
1857. The route is stunning, and includes small ranchos with family-run
restaurants and cabañas for rent. Laguna Hanson allows camping on the
perimeter of the park’s man-made lake. A small fee must be paid when
entering the park. The contrast between this place and the rest of Baja’s
arid landscape is striking and worth the visit.
Mike’s Sky Rancho Mike’s is a small hotel and rancho along the
famous SCORE Baja 500 route and has long been a popular rest stop
for drivers and riders. Camping and family-style dinners are available,
the rooms are clean and there is a cool splash awaiting in their courtyard
pool. The road in is beautiful and a good test for the 4WD. It is also
possible to continue south towards Rancho Meling and the road into
Picacho del Diablo.
San Pedro Martir (for the climbers among us)
Picacho del Diablo (The Mountain of the Devil) rises 10,157 feet above
the Pacific coastline, and reaching the rocky summit represents a serious climbing challenge. There is not much of a trail and the last third
is a full-on scramble where most climbers choose to use a harness and
rope. There is also an interesting celestial observatory and forested
campgrounds. A small group and I attempted the mountain in May of
2005 and were turned back by heavy snowdrifts on the north face and
snowfall.
Gonzaga Bay Alfonsina’s Cantina and the beaches of Gonzaga
Bay are the real draw to this section of the coast. A small dirt airstrip
and beachfront homes serve an expatriate community and fly-in vacationers. There is a Pemex and a small hotel/cantina, and that is it—but
this is part of the charm. For the overland traveler, driving the road
from Puertecitos down to Mex 1 can be one of the most interesting
parts of the trip—although more of it is being paved each year.
Bahía de Los Ángeles The best route to Bay of L.A. is via the
Mission San Borja road. Starting in Rosarito, it winds its way through
large washes and mountain tracks to one of the best-kept secrets in
Baja Norte: Mission San Borja. There are small palapas for camping,
and hiking tours to hot springs, pictograph sites and pristine cactuslined canyons. From San Borja, the road continues north to Bahía de
los Angeles with more 4WD work and beautiful views. Bay of L.A.
itself is little more than a fuel stop and a few restaurants, but the beach
camps south of town are stunning. This is also northern access to remote southern destinations (more beach camps) such as San Francisquito, San Rafael, and El Barril. The track ultimately turns west to El
Arco, Mex 1, and the state of Baja California Sur.
Above: Coco’s Corner, built by an enterprising local with prosthetic legs,
offers cold beer and soda. Previous spread: (left page) Laguna Hanson is a
cool respite for a summer trip to Baja and a beautiful spot for exploration. It
is particularly well suited to adventure motorcycles with fuel stops (drums)
and small cabin accommodations. (Side bar) Seaside cliffs punctuate most
of the Pacific side in Baja Norte.
6.
4.
7.
1.
2.
5.
8.
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3.
9.
1. Tacos in Loreto, Mike and I have ‘just one more.’ 2. Beautiful wineries dot Valle Guadalupe. 3. Mission San Javier 4. Church in San Ignacio. 5. Adorable, but
not so happy about his ride, a local rides a pony during an independence parade in Santa Rosalia. 6. San Ignacio is an oasis in the desert and a great town to
walk through day or night. 7. Mama Espinosa’s in El Rosario. 8. Eiffel’s church located in Santa Rosalia. 9. The SCORE races are fun to watch and bring out
locals and gringos alike, all cheering the passing vehicles.
Baja Sur
San Ignacio Most of Mex 1 runs through Baja’s arid interior des-
ert. While Boojum (cirios) and cardón cacti pepper the landscape, there
is little in the way of fresh water. However, when you turn off at San
Ignacio, the brown transitions to green, palms appear, and then a beautiful blue lagoon manifests with campsites and cabins available. The
town is clean and authentic with a well-preserved mission and colorful town square. Cozy restaurants dot the streets and locals add to the
charm. San Ignacio is the jumping off point for 4WD roads into the
interior and several interesting tracks leading to the Pacific Ocean and
the Sea of Cortez.
Santa Rosalía Despite the crooked Pemex operators, Santa Ro-
The Feared Federales
Chris Collard
I traveled in Baja three times last year. I drove the entire peninsula
twice, camped on beaches, bought fish from local pescadores (fishermen), and socialized with local villagers. On one of my trips I spent a
day with Chef Bernard, former chef to El Presidente de México and current Ambassador of tequila (yes, Mexico has an Ambassador of tequila)
and the next day with Baja’s Minister of Tourism. The one message
they requested I return home with was “Please tell America that Baja is
safe, secure, and a wonderful place to visit.”
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The Mexican military provides policing in Mexico. It can be a little disconcerting for many north-of-the-border types to contemplate having
a half-dozen well-armed eighteen-year-olds pull you over, inspect your
vehicle and search through your bags. I’m trying to recall the first time I
was face to face with one of Baja’s fatigue-wearing, machinegun-toting
federales. The thing I do remember is that he was tall and had a big
gun. Of course, I was probably about eight or nine years of age. The
other thing that comes to mind is that my father seemed to be on his
best behavior, at least until the ordeal was over.
Today, Mexico and the U.S. are allies in the war on drugs. Federale
searches, whether on Mex 1 or a seemingly deserted two-track, are
routine and not to be feared. They might request to look through a
few storage boxes, behind your seats, or inside your cooler (offering
a cold beverage after the inspection is always appreciated…but not
expected). With a smile, a nod, maybe a gracias, you’ll be on your way.
I’ve been through hundreds of federale checkpoints over the years, and
have never, and I’ll repeat, never had one go sideways. Just remember: the federales, the ones with the big guns and cold, stern stares,
are usually on your side. FYI: Secondary searches when reentering the
U.S. can be a more trying ordeal.
The Baja economy relies heavily on tourism. Most of the peninsula’s
inhabitants appreciate your presence. It means they may be able to
feed their families this week.
salía has become one of my favorite towns in Baja, principally because
of its unique history and surprising historical buildings. Originally
owned by a French mining conglomerate, the town has a French Quarter, positioned high on the hill with tropics-inspired homes and the
Hotel Francis. In town there is a 120-year-old bakery that still turns out
hot baguettes and other treats. We never pass through without filling
up on bags of pan (bread). The most notable structure in Santa Rosalía
is the iglesia (church), which is said to have been built by Gustave Eiffel
and originally displayed alongside his more famous tower in the 1889
World’s Fair.
Bahía Concepción The village of Mulegé and the beach
camps along Conception Bay mark a notable transition into the subtropical region of Baja with evidence of greater rainfall. A small river
runs through town and there are thousands of date palms. Mulegé is
a fun, bustling town with small, crooked streets and many excellent
restaurants. Little shops and even a coin-operated laundromat are
available to resupply the weary traveler (note: park big trucks outside
of town). One of my favorite campsites is about 20 minutes south of
town on a small spit of sand called Requesón. I have met dozens of
other overlanders on that little sand bar. The snorkeling is excellent and
there is a small island to hike around on.
Agua Verde One of the top overland routes in Baja is the one-way
trek to Agua Verde, a roughly graded dirt track just south of Loreto.
The road winds through the desert and over a mountain pass before
switch-backing down a narrow canyon to a series of bays—the final
bay being the setting of a small village and single restaurant. Camping
is available, fresh fish can usually be purchased right from the catch,
and I’ve enjoyed a panga (boat) tour led by an enterprising local who
showed us sea lions, bird rookeries and several caves.
San Evaristo If a serious overland trek is on the agenda, the remote, rugged route to San Evaristo—though difficult to locate—is one
of the best on the peninsula. The track, which winds its way through
washouts, loose climbs and narrow shelf roads, is best suited for the
experienced Baja traveler. Deep gorges and canyons fall away from an
The sun sets on the Pacific as we enjoy cold cerveza after a wonderful day on the trail.
elevated plateau, and small ranchos and villages provide a unique experience. Several old missions can be accessed by 4WD or on foot, and the
route eventually terminates at the gulf. Fuel and supplies may not be
accessible (especially diesel) in San Evaristo, so plan accordingly. The
rewards for making this trek are stunningly remote campsites and beautiful, isolated beaches. The route continues south along the coast, eventually turning to pavement and finishing in La Paz.
Todos Santos and the Naranjas Road Another excel-
lent overland trek is the Naranjas Road, which starts just south of Todos Santos and eventually connects with Mex 1 just north of the Cabo
San Lucas airport. This 25-mile route traverses the rugged mountains
north of the Cape, reaching an altitude over 3,000 feet, before descending to the east. It is one of the few roads in Baja that requires low-range
and a smaller, more nimble vehicle—this can change, for better or
worse, with each passing year. Todos Santos is a quaint little village on
the Pacific, and worth visiting. It claims to be the location of the original Hotel California (think The Eagles), which is still operational, and
nestled amongst art galleries and restaurants. There is also a quiet beach
camp to the south of town. This is about as far south as I would recommend going, unless cheap t-shirts, expensive margaritas and pushy
timeshare salesmen are your goal. Once the stop signs in Cabo changed
from ‘alto’ to ‘stop,’ Cabo lost its appeal for the adventure traveler.
Though our favorite peninsula is slowing changing, much of Baja
has retained its old-world charm and appeal. With long, sandy beaches,
stunning landscapes, and thousands of miles of backcountry twotracks, there are hundreds of new adventures to be written. It is time
to dust off the passport and head south—fish tacos and Pacificos are
waiting.
Editor’s Note: While Baja California has proven to be safe during dozens of trips
by Overland Journal’s team members, travel in any developing country comes with
risks, and no one is exempt from freak accidents. We always advise people to use
extra caution, check current conditions with the U.S. State Department and Baja
forums, and respect local laws. If you do need help, it may be a long distance or
several days away.
RESOURCES
LB Maps, lbmaps.com, 253-225-9962
Discover Baja, discoverbaja.com, 800-727-2252
(Note: Discover Baja is the most comprehensive resource for Baja
travel. Their many offerings include The Baja Almanac and National
Geographic Adventure maps.)
Baja Bound Insurance, bajabound.com, 888-552-2252
Expedition Portal, expeditionportal.com
Baja Nomad, forums.bajanomad.com
117
Baja Trip
Route
Cartography by David Medeiros (mapbliss.com)
118
119
OVERLAND CHEF
Chris Collard
The Baja Fish Taco
When south of the border, grab a cold cerveza and
indulge in a few of Baja’s legendary Tacos de pescado.
The Baja peninsula extends south from the U.S. border like an
800-mile-long treble hook, its business ends jutting west into the
Pacific and east along the Sea of Cortez. With 3,000-plus miles of
coastline, punctuated with marine-rich bays and estuaries, it is only
natural for the region to boast some of the best seafood on the
planet. Topping that list of south-of-the-border delicacies is Baja’s
world-famous fish taco. You don’t need a two-week vacation and
your passport to indulge in the peninsula’s signature dish. Make a
quick run to the pescadaría (fish market), grab a cerveza and fry up a
plate of tacos de pescado.
Menu
Photo by Jeremy Edgar
Starter ~ Tortilla chips, salsa, and guacamole
Main course ~ Tacos de pescado, served with rice and beans
Beverage ~ Cold cerveza, mojito, or margarita
Dessert ~ One sandy beach, a brilliant Baja sunset, and
another choice from the “beverage” list
120
Tacos de pescado
Serves: 4-5 | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Equipment: 8-inch skillet, single-burner stove, mixing and serving bowls
1.5 pounds fresh fish (yellowtail tuna from
local pescadores (fishermen) if possible)
Fresh corn tortillas
2 eggs
1 ¼ cups milk
1 lb flour
1 cup mayonnaise
1 cup plain yogurt
1 tomato
¼ head fresh cabbage
½ yellow onion
2 limes
Tapatío hot sauce
Garlic powder, salt and pepper
Corn or olive oil
with preparing the white mystery sauce. Mix
mayonnaise, yogurt, a dash of garlic, and two
tablespoons of milk in a bowl. Set aside. Dice
onions and tomato, thinly slice cabbage, and
cut limes into wedges; place fresh ingredients
to the side in separate bowls. Combine remaining milk with two eggs; mix thoroughly
and set aside. Fill a shallow plate with ¼ inch
of flour, sprinkle with salt and pepper.
To acclimate yourself and guests for Baja’s
trademark dish, pull a few cervezas from the
cooler, fill two bowls with guacamole and
salsa, and open a bag of tortilla chips. Begin
your south of the border culinary adventure
Fill skillet with 3/8 inches oil, add one drop
of water. Preheat oil until water boils off the
top (signaling the oil is ready). One at a time,
dip fish fillets in the egg mixture. Give them
a good roll in the flour and place in the skil-
Pull your catch-of-the-day from the cooler,
rinse and slice into strips (about the size of a
roll of quarters).
let using tongs. Repeat process until there is
no more real estate in the bottom of your
pan. Cook each fillet for 90 seconds, or until
golden brown on the bottom. Turn over and
cook for an additional 60 seconds—again,
until golden brown.
Remove from skillet and place briefly on a
paper towel to absorb dripping oil; then on a
slightly warmed tortilla. Add small amounts
of freshly chopped veggies; douse with white
sauce, and add a squeeze of lime and Tapatío
to taste. Serve three at a time. Rice, refried
beans, tortilla chips and salsa are appropriate
accouterments.
Grab a cerveza and feast on a true south-ofthe-border delicacy. Don’t forget the sandy
beach and Baja sunset.
121
122
CLASSIC KIT
Christophe Noel
The Svea 123
A staple of backcountry
travelers for five decades.
A
This classic Swedish camp stove
might be the perfect addition to your
kit—even if you never need to thaw
the engine of a Cessna 180.
weathered and stained wooden crate is pulled from a
dark corner shelf in the attic. Dusting off the lid reveals
the hand-written words “Camp Gear.” A cool brass object is removed from within, held up to the light, and
carefully examined. “Hey, it’s my old Svea 123 camp stove. I wonder
if it still works?” It’s a scene that has been played out in many attics
over the years. For half a century, people have been “discovering” their
dingy, dented, and seemingly obsolete Svea 123s from boxes, closets,
and long-forgotten rucksacks. More than just the discovery of a onceprized piece of camping gear, these reunions usually unleash a rush of
adventuring memories. Though some of these recollections may have
corresponding burn scars, that’s just another quirky part of the Svea
123 experience. And does it still work? Of course it does!
Now in its 56th continuous year of production, this elegantly simple hunk of brass and steel is a refreshing antidote to the doleful innovate-or-die mentality that has permeated the modern world. Virtually
unchanged since its debut, it is timeless in nature, and still available at
your local backpacking shop (provided you don’t have one hidden in
your attic). Though many of the stoves in use today are several decades
old, they are more than kitschy relics destined for a curio shelf. Not
only do they still work, people love to put them to task. For some, the
soundtrack to a proper camping trip is the crackle of a campfire. For
others, it’s the sputtering roar of these classic bits of history.
The chronicle of the Svea, and the modern camp stove in general,
began in Sweden more than a century ago. In these northern latitudes,
mechanics would commonly awaken frigid oil-burning engines with
kerosene blowtorches. One such torch-wielding mechanic was a hungry visionary by the name of Frans Lidqvist. He realized the true potential of the blowtorch, and used it to heat his lunch. This led him to
build the world’s first camp stoves, and an industry was born. Within a
few years, an entire selection of Swedish-made stoves were being offered by companies still dominant in the outdoor industry today: Svea,
Optimus and Primus.
The “modern” version was introduced by manufacturer Sieverts
Lodlampfabrik in 1955 and enjoyed immediate success. That success
can be measured in the number of imitation stoves from Taiwan and
123
the USSR that rapidly appeared on the market. The beauty of the design, and perhaps the
reason why it was so easily copied, is its simplicity. With only one moving part, it is nearly
indestructible and extremely reliable. Enthusiasts of these bits of culinary history love
them because they never fail to light—not
that the 123 is necessarily easy to light. One
simply needs to understand how it works.
The unique feature is the lack of a pump.
The fuel, four ounces of white gas in the unit’s
base, is pressurized by heat from the burner,
and reflected onto the tank. You don’t have
to be Prometheus to master the operational
requisites, but you certainly need to practice.
Lighting methods are varied, elaborate, and
some even bizarre. Many call for eyedroppers,
toothpaste mixed with rubbing alcohol, or
small coffee straws. Perhaps this is where the
memories of burns and scars enter the picture.
One, two, three... ignition
124
Lighting the 123 requires a small amount
of fuel to be placed in the priming cup—a
recessed area in the center of the fuel tank.
Igniting the fuel (carefully) will warm the tank
and burner prior to the valve being opened.
Once the fuel is warmed and pressure builds
in the tank, you’re ready to unleash a 4,700
BTU flame. This is where the burn-scar potential becomes a concern—and might explain why your dad only has one eyebrow.
Although it is very rare, and there is a pressure relief valve on the filler cap, it is possible
to overheat the tank. Doing so will force fuel
through the pressure valve creating a twofoot-tall squirting inferno, which some call,
“the tent burner.”
Priming hazards aside, these stoves have
a tremendously loyal following. The first audiences to fully embrace the Svea 123 were
climbers who praised its compact size, efficiency, and performance in low temperatures
at high altitude. With a burn time of nearly
an hour on four ounces of fuel, it made for
a light and fast solution for swift mountain
assaults. Legendary climber and founder of
Patagonia, Yvon Chouinard, once wrote a review of the Svea in a popular outdoor magazine. He said it was the best stove he had ever
used. The little gem has been dispatched to
the highest peaks on the planet, and countless
climbers have shared Chouinard’s opinion.
Tom Cochran, an iconic American climber and friend of Chouinard, had one of the
more interesting accounts. Cochran, along
with two other climbers, had designed an ambitious, mid-winter expedition in a remote
section of the Wind River Range, Wyoming.
The plan was to access the area in a Cessna
180 fitted with skis. Knowing they would be
leaving the plane in sub-zero temperatures
during the expedition, they packed a few extra
stoves. The idea was to use three units to preheat the oil, battery, and the engine itself. Returning to the Cessna after seven days on the
mountain, they fired up the 123s and went to
work. Within no time, the Cessna thundered
to life. Unfortunately, the plane was helplessly
mired in snow and wouldn’t budge an inch.
However, the century-old method of using
stoves to heat engine components worked
perfectly.
Since acquiring the Svea brand in 1969,
Optimus of Sweden has continued to manufacture the 123 in its classic form. While the
stoves of today retain the design and character of their predecessors, there has been one
unfortunate change. The words “Made in
Sweden,” which were proudly engraved on
the top of the fuel tank, have been eliminated.
As is often the case, the latest generation is
made in Asia. This might explain why many
refer to their trusted stoves by year—as they
would a vintage Series I Land Rover. It is also
why so many owners take great care to protect the timeworn patina. Like wrinkles on a
weathered face, it speaks to their age,
These beloved campmates not only
provide warm meals, as they did for Frans
Lidqvist a century ago, they have a tendency
to rekindle dusty memories of backcountry
adventures. The next time you find your way
to the attic, or pass by that old rucksack in the
corner of the garage, peek inside and look
for the dull glow of brass. You might find the
only stove you’ll need for the next 56 years.
Above: This is a stove my dad and I used on
countless trips into the deep backcountry in the
high Rockies of Colorado. It really does have a
superior feel to the Asian made stove. The engraving alone is pretty cool on the Swedish made
stove. The windscreen doubles as a pot support.
Vintage stove is shown without windscreen.
125
Continued from page 128
who could not stop talking), that we realized we’d made a big mistake. I
can assure you that during extended hours of lion watching, one has a
lot of downtime to think about things.
I leaned over to Anna and said quietly, “Do you realize that our
temporary import permit (custom papers) from South Africa says that
our vehicle is from Botswana?” Silence… Hmmm, I’ve visited many
countries, but don’t remember buying a 4WD in Botswana. “Dang”
she broadcasted loudly (she used a different explicative that means, uh,
“dung”). And it was not a small deposit of common cow dung…this
was big dung… elephant dung.
The problem was that our trip from Europe through Africa exceeded the allowable time, and the Carnet de Passage of our 1991 Mitsubishi L300 4x4, our home for the past several years had expired…
again… and I’d not requested a renewal on time. See what I mean about
finding trouble.
Four-Day Flashback
126
Departing Zimbabwe to South Africa, we found ourselves on the
Limpopo River Bridge, the neutral zone between the two nations.
Without the Carnet de Passage, we could not pass beyond the South
African Customs parking lot, nor could we return to our beloved Zimbabwe—which was beginning to suffer the significant impacts of a long
and forgotten dictatorship. We were in no man´s land with no way out.
A solution presented itself, a disgustingly simple and tempting one.
You see, there were two old Defenders from Botswana also waiting for
entry to South Africa, and one of them had the exact same license plate
numbers as our Mitsubishi from Spain—and in the exact same order.
Hmmm?
Oh no… Oh yes… It would be too easy. The customs employees
did not even lift an eyebrow to check the vehicles, to be sure that the
information given matched our car.
Four days later, watching the most boring “wild” lions on the planet, we realized that my special ability to get into trouble was alive and
well. The genius that drives one to find quick solutions, to take the easy
route around unexpected situations, was in motion. The idea worked
like a well-oiled machine… temporarily. Our epiphany at that “elephant
dung” moment was that we had crossed the line. If we were stopped by
the police, we would be in big trouble. There was only one solution. We
had to go back.
Anna drove back to the border wearing her best, innocent-goodwhite-girl-from-Botswana face. She returned our temporary import
permit without issue and slipped through South Africa customs. She
was again on the bridge, in no man’s land without papers.
She found an out-of-the-way spot to park next to the river while
I assessed a new plan that would not lead us to more problems. Basically, I had to figure out a Plan B for our sneaky Plan B—that normally
means going back to Plan A.
But, the idea of getting a new carnet was discarded. It could not
be done. Only our smooth-talking traveling acquaintance Butch could
manage such a feat. Butch, an Australian biker, was re-issued a Carnet
de Passage from the Automobile Club of Jordan (ACJ)—not based on
a money guarantee or security, but merely on the good faith of people.
He rode into the ACJ on his Soviet motorbike, said he would bring the
bike back (with his best lost soul smile), and received his papers. It was
not likely that this approach would work in capitalistic Spain, the country of our vehicle’s origin.
Somehow, I had to convince an official employee from the Real Automovil Club de España (RACE) who had issued my previous carnet,
to authorize the Automobile Association of South Africa to issue a
new one (my third)—and this needed to be based on a bank guarantee
linked to an expired carnet which could not be verified.
It was not complicated, but it was complicated. I had to rely on my
charismatic personality, on people’s faith that I would do the right thing
(I’d not impressed myself in that department so far). I had to call in the
cavalry, enlist the help and protection of all saints from all religions, and
add some desperate intensity to my words.
Spending hours on the phone with various offices and officials became my sport. I started with the patient and humble approach, but I
have to admit the intensity in my tone was growing as the days dragged
by, and a cache of emptied telephone cards began accumulating in my
pocket. I could no longer take NO for an answer. I had to rescue Anna
from no man’s land and I needed to do it soon. Feeling desperate, I
needed to make more calls, send more emails, get more people to take
notice. I needed to convince government employees whose only notion of adventure would be a luxury seven-day, all-inclusive, organized
lodge stay in the Masai Mara. Not likely.
My last card to play was to push the mass media button. It seems
that journalists and the mainstream media have an affinity for stories of
hapless souls in distress. Innocent Spanish girl abandoned in African
no man’s land would make a good headline. I got on the wire, pouring
hundreds of press releases into the black hole of the Internet ocean.
I never knew which press release landed in the right hands, but five
days later, authorization for a new Carnet de Passage arrived. It is possible they simply got tired of fielding my calls, or deleting my persistent
emails. I suppose it is difficult to ignore people who pursue a cause with
such passion, determination and intensity—but Anna and our Mitsubishi home on wheels would be set free.
I’ll probably act with slightly more discretion the next time I’m presented with a lion in a gazelle-skinned suit. Maybe sniff for the scent of
elephant dung? We’ll see… For the moment we were free to go. And
what happened during those five days in no man’s land? I have no idea.
You’ll have to ask Anna.
127
TAIL LAMP
Pablo Rey
Five Days in No-Man’s Land
128
The Easy Way Out… or Plan B for a foiled Plan B
I
have a special ability to get into trouble. This has been routinely verified during the last 11 years of my trip around the
world. Anna, my partner during this time of adventures, has
suffered through this unique attribute by my side. Let me
say something important before going on. This trait is not something
learned, it is innate, something you are born with, and one that you carry for the rest of your life. It is also one that lends to finding yourself in
situations without provocation.
When someone asks for my overlanding CV (curriculum vitae), I always say, “In two months time on our trip through Africa we survived
two breakdowns in the middle of nowhere. One of them in the deep
sands of the Sudanese Sahara, the other one beside Lake Turkana, 500
miles from a decent mechanic.” Then I keep silent for a few seconds,
as if the story is over, before revealing the cavalry. I continue, “In that
two months we also suffered two robberies, one crash, a runaway from
the transit police in Addis Ababa, and being accosted by two men on a
motorbike, armed with rifles, who wanted us to pay for a cow they said
we killed. I also got a little angry with a military man who was pointing
his Kalashnikov at me. Then we had to run away from 30 men, who
were drugged with khat and dressed in loincloths, that had encircled us
on an isolated road near Lalibela—they also wanted money. And there
was the time we crossed the border between Ethiopia and Kenya, apparently illegally, and we were detained at the police station of a small
town where no one could speak English (we could not speak Amharic,
either). Least I forget being detained by police again for sleeping at the
gate of a national park without paying the entrance fee.”
Such an array of experiences for only a two-month timeframe—
Thus went our introduction to Africa, a bit of unexpected pleasure on
the wild side. Consciously or subconsciously, this is what you are looking for when you embark on an overland trip across the Dark Continent. I don’t particularly go looking for these troubles, they just happen
to find me. I do know people who glide through their travels without
so much as a flat tire. And while these “adventures” must be my fate, I
must admit that I may have provoked a few—just slightly though.
Most of the time when you face a problem, finding the solution
may be a challenge, but it can almost be fun (ok… maybe more “fun” in
hindsight). But there are some moments when you just want to hit your
head against a wall.
It was in Kruger, South Africa, while waiting for a lion pride to do
something interesting (climb a tree, tell a joke or eat a nearby Jeep driver
Continued on page 126
cxxix
cxxx
adventure

Fall 2011 Issue

Transcription

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