LT Sam May, USN, is currently stationed in Japan. He has completed several tours to Iraq and Africa with Army and Navy Special Operations Forces. A paramedic, climber, diver and linguist, he and his family have lived, worked, and traveled all over the world –ed. Text & photos: Sam May

This isn’t a tall tale of jungle adventures or African savannahs. Compared with many of the articles we’ve been glued to in this magazine our trip sounded pretty lame. We set out to show our kids the western half of the United States before our move to Japan. We assumed this trip would be cathartic; however, it never occurred to us that it would change our lives. I’ve lived my life with the belief that the journey is the destination; all else in this life we cannot and should not control.

We – my wife, Ellen, and children Henry (6), Maggie (3), and Abby (2) – entered the final week of our time in Newport, RI, trying to shove everything we’d need for the trip to Japan into our few bags, and steeling ourselves for an endless flight with three kids under six. The hardest part was preparing our beloved Discovery II for her inglorious storage box in a self-storage facility. We added fuel stabilizers, put in fresh oil and a new filter, and jacks underneath to relieve the suspension and tires from years of tedium.

This was heart breaking – to us. Our Landies are more than our vehicles, more than our machines – an emotion that only other Land Rover owners can understand. A life with Land Rovers resembles a wonderful marriage, full of passion, frustration, adoration, respect, and frequent trips to the store for expensive trinkets. To lock the girl away seemed to me like putting my wife on life support. This was our frame of mind, and worse yet, we had yet to deal with the other Land Rover. That one had a much more uncertain fate ahead of her.

Our 2004 Discovery II is stock, save for some interior enhancements to further child-proof the vehicle. Our 2005 LR3 received some modifications from Jake Kaplan Land Rover, Warwick, RI. There we had a factory-approved Warn 10,000 lb. with both steel and fiber rope, specially fabricated aluminum shields mounted to protect the steering arms, transmission oil pan and suspension air pump. We also installed the factory expedition roof rack, which I modified to reduce its weight. Working with advice based on discussions with Land Rover Special Vehicles in England, I’ve upgraded all essential electrical wiring with marine cables, added additional water/dust protection around the exposed electronics, and installed more robust internal fusing and relays. Some of these modifications would enable me to hose down the interior of the car without hesitation in case of spilled / spoiled milk, old food, or other child-born afflictions.

I reviewed which electronic components could be removed or altered in the event of a breakdown far from dealer servicing. From that review, I added some redundant system components so that a failure in the main system would not force the car into “shipment” or “limp” mode. Lastly, I mounted AC converters, dry chemical and CO2 fire extinguishers, a solar recharging system, medical and recovery gear, and communication equipment.

In June, four days before boarding a plane for the move to Japan, with all the expedition gear sent ahead of us in our furniture shipment, we decided we couldn’t just lock the trucks away. We had to let them run, play, and get dirty one last time. We decided to drive across country from Newport to San Diego, via South Dakota, Boulder, and the Mojave. We altered our travel plans to give us some time to accomplish this, and spent a day or so with an atlas and Google planning the route, estimating costs, and figuring out the best places to bivouac. We geared up on the cheap (all of our expensive gear had been shipped ahead for a planned drive from Hong Kong to Rota, Spain) and we packed the kids into both trucks and headed west. Well, almost. Because this is a true story, first we had to limp to the dealer to have the “Suspension Fault” (and by that I mean the $800 suspension air pump) repaired in the LR3.

Here’s a tip: after you take your LR3 swimming, clean that pump. Then we were off!

About halfway across Ohio, Henry, my 6-year-old son and traveling partner/navigator, asked me if this was the “doldrums.” He explained that he thought there would be more mountains, rivers, and forests. I explained that this was the Midwest, not the Far West, and that yes, these were the “doldrums.” Soon we would be in South Dakota and the Badlands. The Badlands holds a special place of awe and wonder for our family. This was the first place we had ever been to where my son could walk the same ground as his hero, the British adventurer Bear Grylls. We would attempt to survive ourselves, though admittedly with the help of a couple of very capable vehicles.

We set up camp outside the Badlands (away from the prairie dogs and plague) and we explored the power of wind and water to create such beauty through destruction (“destruction” is not new to me, having several tours to Iraq behind me, and assuredly more to Afghanistan to come). I had forgotten how beautiful this world can be when left to its own devices. Even our two-year-old stood in relative silence; as we hiked around investigating every bug, rock, and monument we fell more and more in love with the place. We became a bit more introspective, more thoughtful, the three-year-old and the two-year-old stopped fighting (for a moment). We slept that night full of anticipation of the road to come, and what more this journey could hold.

As we traveled on, stopping in Colorado to climb to the top of a mountain, and Utah to climb and hike around Moab, our family began to change. We no longer thought about what had happened or what will happen, we became much more interested in what was happening at that moment. This is the true power of a Land Rover and the spirit to explore, nothing is out of reach. We’ve driven through water and mud feet deep, sand and snow, up and down hills so steep it would have been more difficult to do on foot – all to carry on the journey. My kids have never known they must be limited to a road, let alone a shopping mall. They’ve never known a car that can’t be hosed out, and they’ve never known a ride in vehicle that doesn’t require you to travel with a full set of tools and a
diagnostic computer (even to get milk).

We love our Landies, but they don’t define us. They are, however, the only vehicle on the planet that can keep up with us. The Mojave in mid-July tried to roast us, but we had arrived to immerse ourselves in the desert. We drove out into the dunes (with permission from the ranchers and the Parks Department, mind you) and we set up camp. A tarp tied between the two trucks became the base camp, with a tent pitched under that tarp. We broke out the day packs and everyone carried their own gear and water. I carried the 2-year-old in her back pack, but she did carry her diapers, wipes, and water. We spent all day and most of the nights climbing dunes, visiting springs, climbing, and hunting snakes and insects. I taught my kids how to survive in the desert, and they taught me that life is so much more fun when you stop and play.

Days later we arrived in San Diego. I halfheartedly washed the Disco, because even in storage Landies are meant to be dirty. We arranged for the LR3 to be ready for shipment to Hong Kong in the upcoming months, and sadly parked her next to the Disco. Our flight to Japan lay ahead, beginning a whole new adventure, but sadness filled all of us. Leaving these trucks behind was like leaving our spirit of adventure behind, and in many ways we actually did. It is us as a family that makes us able to do anything and go anywhere, and more so, to desire to do those things, but it is in many ways our trucks that give us the allowance. Without them, we feel weaker, more vulnerable, and honestly, less capable.

Soon we will be reunited with our girls and the journey will begin again. Hong Kong to Spain, then from Spain to Denali – from there, who can say? Not us. The only thing for sure is that if you see us driving it’ll be a Land Rover (no we don’t have a car here in Japan, because we can’t find a Rover) other wise we’re on foot and little red wagon (with flames down the side); that part of the journey we can control. Everything else awaits fate and adventure to decide.

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