Neill Thornton, San Diego, CA

[Neill Thornton, San Diego, CA, grew up in Northern California and now works as an IT professional for the U.S. Navy on board the USNS Mercy. He serves, too, as a Hospital Corpsman in the Navy Reserve with the Marine Corps’ 4th Tank Battalion. Here’s his newest Land Rover experience –ed]

Four years ago, I felt motivated to buy a new car to take advantage of the “Accelerated Depreciation” I could claim on my annual taxes. After talking to my accountant, I armed myself with a list of Sport Utilities that met the IRS requirements for an eligible vehicle. Marques such as BMW, Mercedes, and Lexus sat at the top of the list. Down near the bottom was a vehicle I only had a passing knowledge about – “Land Rover Discovery.” Little did I know at the time that after visiting all the dealerships, taking numerous test drives and kicking lots of tires I would end up as the proud owner of a Land Rover LR3.

I fell in love with the LR3 the first time I saw it. Other than a few problems at the very beginning of our time together, the LR3 has proven to be a great, reliable, “go anywhere” truck. My job at the time demanded off-road use in a variety of situations, from going up mountain trails to trekking out into the Arizona desert. The air suspension provides that “floating on a cloud” feeling; the sound system is second to none, even when I have it “cranked to 11” with hard rock playing on the iPod.

I was hooked. I joined the Land Rover Club of San Diego, which we should really call the “Land Rover Cult of San Diego.” Even as I professed the greatness of Land Rovers. I constantly heard my friends saying, “Oh, those British cars, they are bad news” or, “Why didn’t you just get a Jeep”?

But there is a problem with the LR3: The experience is almost too sterile. Even out in the sand dunes or rocky trails, inside the cabin is a quiet, peaceful experience that belies the environment outside. The dashboard comes loaded with buttons and knobs that control the dozens of computers that take care of the “hard work” of driving off-road. You just point the wheels in the direction you want to go and press the gas pedal to go there.

I spent most of 2008 deployed to Iraq. While I was there, we ended up watching “The Gods Must Be Crazy.” Clearly, the Land Rover starred in that movie. I had never really thought about the older Series trucks; although, I did lust after the nearly unobtainable NAS Defenders. After watching the movie, the gears started turning in my head. Could I even find a Series Rover? Would it be legal in the States – even in California?

When I returned from duty overseas, the thought of buying a Series still lingered with me. I asked around the local club, and to my surprise, no one owned a Series truck – lots of Defenders, but nothing older.

Then, right here in San Diego someone put a ‘65 Series II-A RHD up for sale. “Runs great,” the ad read. I took a trip across town to see the truck in person, with one of my best friends in tow as an impartial voice. We looked all over the truck, crawled underneath, banged, poked and prodded. She seemed to be in good shape, with only light rust in the normal places. The truck did have lots of “Stupid Owner Tricks” from the New Zealander who had owned her for most of her life. I told the seller I would think about it and call him back.

A week and a half later, I made an offer to purchase the Rover. Since the truck came with a tow bar, the now previous owner towed it over to my house. Everything came together and a few days later, I was the proud owner of a tired but promising Series II-A.

Just sitting in the truck is an experience in itself. Whereas the LR3 features leather and modern plastic with digital readouts, computer screens and buttons festooned all over the interior, the II-A shouted “starkness” at its core. The smell brought back memories of the old VW Beetle my parents owned in years gone past; that familiar mix of gasoline, grease, and vinyl from the seats. The steering wheel looked worn down from where past owners had put their hands year after year.

I took the Land Rover out for its maiden voyage down the street to the supermarket. Driving a right hand drive Rover for the first time felt strange enough, but double clutching was also a new experience. However, both proved easy to master and I soon found myself parked in front of the store. What proved more surprising was the response from onlookers in the parking lot. “What a cool car”, one of the skateboarders out front said. “I haven’t seen one of those in a long, long time”, said another man, easily in his late 70s. Buoyed by their reactions, I drove home, hooked even deeper.

All of that would change the very next day. I had already starting doing a closer inspection of the truck, and had discovered the directional signals did not work. Even though a lot of people here in Southern California don’t seem to know they exist, I consider turn signals important. I drove to a local Pep Boys for a new flasher. Walking up to the parts counter, I proudly stated that I had a 1965 Land Rover and needed a flasher. I watched the clerk enter information on his computer, heard a lot of “error beeps,” and watched him look bewildered as he said, “it’s not in the computer.” I realize that I may hear this often…

Once again, I found myself encouraged by another customer, this one driving a souped-up Nova SS, who said, “That thing is pretty cool.” That good feeling was about to change.

On the way home, I drove up a small hill and noticed a marked loss of power. Pressing the accelerator only seemed to make it worse. Soon, I was barely doing 20 MPH on one of San Diego’s busiest streets. I barely crept into a parking lot near my house when I realize I have brought no tools with me. I swallowed my pride and called a friend with a Dodge Ram. He showed up in a few minutes and I jumped in to go to my house for a tow strap and some shackles.

The first comment from his mouth, “Why didn’t you buy a Jeep?” I just smiled. For even as I am being towed home behind a Dodge Ram, an old couple in front of their house light up with smiles and waved to me. I’ll sort out the Series II-A and accept more waves in the future.

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