My dad has always been a big dreamer and a bit spontaneous, growing up was an adventure. So when he told me he was thinking about having a Land Rover imported to the US I wasn’t necessarily surprised. The surprises only came when he sent me tracking information for the Hamburg Highway. The ship was leaving port in Southern England bound for Charleston Harbor, South Carolina. On board was my dads Australian arms spec Land Rover 110 better know as a Land Rover “Perentie.”
I was a bit shocked that of all my dad’s dreams and crazy ideas this one was well on its way to coming true. But the surprise was soon taken over by excitement to drive the new toy. Cars were always coming and going in our family, everyone had a project going on.
Being a car guy, I naturally loved it! It was my first experience driving a right-hand drive car. The little 4cyl diesel motor and 4 speed manual were a blast to drive. I drove it as often as I could. (Really as often as my dad would let me!) I put over 1,000 miles on the Land Rover over the course of a year. Driving to the hardware store, cars and coffee, as well as commuting to work on a handful of sunny days.
At the time my project car was a V8 swapped Mazda RX7. It was low, loud, and somewhat quick. Fun to drive but something was missing from the RX7 that the Land Rover seemed to have. It took me a while to put my finger on what it was. But one day while filling up the Land Rover with diesel it hit me.
A minivan pulled past and a boy’s face was glued to the glass in the back seat. His pig nosed face squished on the glass made me chuckle as I waved. His stare wasn’t drawn by a loud exhaust, mean stance, bright paint job.
He loved seeing the Land Rover for what it was!
I was accustomed to people being interested in what I was driving. Between my RX7 and vintage cafe racer motorcycle I would often have people stop and chat. I would get thumbs up on the road from time to time. Along with mean looks from moms or those who were unimpressed with the loud motor and low stance of my car.
The mean looks never bothered me, or so I thought. I knew driving a low and loud car could label me as a hooligan, drug dealer, or your average rude teenager. We all tend to profile people which I believe is fine and it will never change. I could have been the kindest driver on the road, but people would still hate the fact that the car was low and had big wheels ect. Ect.
Some people modify their cars to evoke a negative reaction from others. Some people try to “stick it to the man” by being loud or obnoxious. They put stickers on their back glass that their mother wouldn’t approve of just to make people upset. I am not here to be the judge of that but that is never my intent. I build what I like for myself.
The Land Rover was different
The surprise to me was not the positive feedback and smiles shared by others on the road. It was the lack of negative. No mean looks, no glares from people walking past in the parking lot. The old army Land Rover seemed to gather curious looks and grins from those around it. The feeling was amazing and intoxicating. I didn’t feel the burden of bothering people when driving. It was as if I was driving with rose colored glasses.
Now I do my best to not let other people’s opinions affect me but there is something that just makes you feel good when everyone who looks your way has a smile or intrigued look on their face. There was just a positive energy that others gave me when I drove down the road in dad’s old Perentie. It was addicting and changed my thoughts about what I drove and why.
I sold the RX7 and replaced it with an old 4wd Ford F250. I upgraded the tires and added some big lights on the roof with a vintage camper shell. It was a cool truck. The patina and the classic looks are easier for everyone to find something to like about it. It never got the amount of smiles that the old army Land Rover got but it would still spark some positive interest.
The Land Rover was sold a handful of years ago so my dad can move onto new adventures. But I will never forget the lesson it taught me. I spend more time not only thinking about what I want to build but why I want to build it. I may still build something loud and flashy, but I always ask myself one question before getting started. Would 8-year old me glue his face to the glass to catch a glimpse?
