Building An Overlander Is An Exercise In Balancing Need And Want

TEXT AND IMAGES BY MATTHEW SCOTT

The first thing you need to realize when you’re building an overland vehicle is that you don’t really need most of this stuff—but it’s okay if you want it.

If you think you need that fancy suspension to explore backroads—there’s a biologist doing it every day for work in a bone-stock F150. If you think you need 35s because your dream journey across the (insert exotic name of a trail in a third world country here) requires it, there’s probably someone driving it in a Toyota Corolla; when they get stuck in the mud, they push. If you’re the kind of person who thinks you need everything because you saw it on Instagram, you might want to re-think your priorities. However, no one can ever criticize you for something you want. There is one exception—I need a 12V fridge/ freezer because I need cold beer. The best overland vehicles I’ve travelled in, built, or driven have had a well-balanced approach to what they need and what they want. Too many needs or too many wants lead to a quickly overweight, underpowered, unreliable vehicle. You’re never going to be prepared for everything, so give it up while you’re ahead. Also, it’s important to understand in this story that I’m not recommending specific products to buy, I’m telling you what you should keep an eye out for in the products you may buy.

Ask yourself: what kind of adventures will you really go on?

Overlanding, in spirit, is about exploring new things—not conquering the most technical trails out there, or seeing who can get through the biggest mud hole. If you’re setting out to explore some of the more-common overland routes in North America, the Mojave Road, comes to mind; you probably don’t need the biggest lift, the largest tires, or quadruple bypass remote reservoir shocks.

We all think we’re going to end up putting our vehicles through scenes reminiscent of Land Rover’s Camel Trophy, but I suspect most of us will not be putting our vehicles completely underwater. Figuring how you’re going to be actually using your vehicle—before you build it—is just as important as the parts you’re going to put on it. Most people could do far more with far less.

If weekend adventures in America are your forte, a small lift and a larger set of tires might be advisable, but again, realize that clever marketing will make you yearn for a lot of expensive gear that you might not exactly need; which means, I am a sucker and don’t take my own advice.

At the end of the day it’s important to eschew image and popular opinion and make sure what you spend your money on works for you. If a bigger lift allows you to cruise through more challenging obstacles with less stress, or some fancy shocks give you and your occupants a smoother ride—once again, it all boils down to need versus want—just ensure that you’re relatively well balanced on those two.

Weight

To add performance, simplify, then add lightness. It applies to more than just sports cars.

A lighter vehicle will always perform better than a heavier vehicle, and the biggest problem with most overland vehicles is that they’re massively overweight. A Toyota Tacoma has a carrying capacity of a little under 1,200 pounds, the Jeep Wrangler Unlimited is even worse at 1,000 pounds—meaning the frame, brakes, transmission and engine aren’t officially tested or designed to work above that load. Most vehicles I see blow by that before they put their butt in the seat, fuel in the tank, or load up any of their camping gear.