Story & Photos by Jason Gottlilieb

[Jason Gottlieb, Boston, MA, has “an affinity for clunky-looking metal contraptions.” This would explain the 30-year old’s fascination with his Series Land Rovers. He uses them on his family’s farm when he tires of his financial service webcasting position and urban cycling. Here’s how he keeps them down on the farm –ed.]

Christmas morning – a time that, for me, is always much more about bringing together the people I care about and eating good food combined with lots of laughter. The days of looking forward to gifts have long passed for me. I feel I really have everything I could ever need and have moved in a direction of becoming much less “material” in the last several years.

This Christmas, however, was different. I arrived at the “family farm” in Gilmanton, New Hampshire to spend a Christmas day roaming around in the ’67 Series II-A on the property. The 330-acre farm is a wonderful place to visit, as you can really get away from everything and there are plenty of difficult trails to explore. I live in Back Bay in Boston, right downtown, so it’s great to be able to get away like this.

It was the perfect day for it, and a nice way for me to spend my Christmas morning; I’d lost my grandfather this past year and, as we all know, Christmas brings these sorts of things to the forefront of our thoughts. Driving around the farm in a ’67 Land Rover was just what I needed to clear my head and put a smile back on my face.

Returning to the house, I spotted something different, under a blue tarp, something roughly the size of a small car. My mind was a bit preoccupied, so I didn’t spend too much time thinking about it. Walking back into the house, I received a set of very old-looking keys. I was guided out to the field where the mysterious car under the tarp was waiting. Pulling back the tarp, a beautiful (in my eyes) 1965 Rover II-A 88” HT appeared. I was told it was a parts truck for me, that every single panel was pristine and would mate up exceptionally well with my ’67. The frame was completely rotten; in fact so much so that when the Rover was transported back to the farm, the “pull-downs” on the flatbed started actually pulling the frame in two.

I studied the gray Rover, noting the original paint inside and the condition of the truck. Yes, this truck had sat for a very long time. Its inspection sticker read 1981, and I’m pretty sure that’s the last time it was run. The tires looked possibly original, the pedals had virtually no wear on the rubber, and the body was dent-free. Could it be that the 41K miles on the odometer were original? I spent the next several weeks trying to decide if I really wanted to salvage this truck. After all, what a project it would be! And did I need another Rover? Living in the heart of Boston, not even needing a car at all, does it make any sense that I already own a new FJ Cruiser replicar and a 1967 Rover II-A? Now I’m thinking about restoring another Rover? I blame it on car addiction. That’s really the only way I can justify all of this.

With the help and prodding of various Rovers North forum board members, I soon realized that this truck was too good to part out. It was basically a “barn-find” that unfortunately did not have a barn to protect it from rust. Even the original ashtray was there. The body had no dents. The tailgate was complete with all the bits. Even elephant hide – colored sheaths still encased the tailgate chains! All the elephant hide seats cushions and squabs sat proudly and a complete Kodiak heater stood ready to burn my passenger’s feet. The truck seemed to be begging to be brought back to life. No, I couldn’t part this truck out! It will become my summer project! She will ride again!

For now, the gray Rover (original mid-grey, I’m told) sits quietly in a cold field in New Hampshire. This spring will begin a thorough cleaning. I have already hooked up a battery and determined all electronics, with the exception of wiper, function well. The starter kicks, but the engine seems stuck. That was last week. This weekend, after a week of sitting with Marvel Mystery Oil in the cylinders, I’ll give a good tug on the engine and see if I can turn it over.

Enthusiasts like to think that Rovers are an “obsession,” but we know they’re an “addiction.” How else to explain my 14 hour drive to Michigan to pick up a tropical top for my current ’65 II-A? Family responsibilities and my own preference for on-road safety keep me in a new, air bag equipped FJ (old truck appeal with contemporary engineering), but nothing can take away to feeling of driving a 50-year old mechanical beast that you can work on yourself. Series Rovers are slow and they are unsafe in these modern times of go-go-go. They beat you up after even a fairly short drive. Yet, at the age of 30, I can’t get enough of them. I have a feeling this is only the beginning of a larger Rover collection (obsession/addiction). I’ll be writing more about the revival of my latest Land Rover. For now, though, send good Rover karma my way – I’m probably going to need it this summer!

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