Overland Tech and Travel

Advice from the world's

most experienced overlanders

tests, reviews, opinion, and more

Jonathan Hanson Jonathan Hanson

The new Tacoma's rear brakes are . . .

2016 Tacoma

What, more whining about Toyota?

Well, yes. But before you start sending hate mail excoriating me for what’s beginning to seem like continuous criticism of the company, please keep in mind: My first car was a 1971 Toyota Corolla with the little 1600 hemi engine, which I modified to the point that it regularly snacked on BMW 2002s and Datsun 240Zs up Mt. Lemmon Highway in 1:00 a.m. dares. I’ve owned a 1973 FJ40 Land Cruiser for 37 years. Roseann and I have owned four Toyota trucks and two Land Cruiser station wagons. And I have sold uncounted Toyotas through recommendations and reviews. I have extremely high regard for the company. 

However, that high regard includes high expectations. Karl Ludvigsen titled his encyclopedic history of Porsche Excellence was Expected, and that’s what I expect from Toyota. When I see a company with the engineering might (and profitability) of Toyota coasting on its reputation—and, worse, trying to tell us that cut-rate features are actually “better,” I have to call them on it.

The latest issue concerns the rear brakes on the redesigned 2016 Tacoma—Toyota’s mainstay truck in the U.S. and a powerhouse in sales. (The Tacoma accounts for between 50 and 65 percent of all mid-size truck sales; the Tundra a dismal five percent of the full-size truck market.) I first saw the new Tacoma in May at Overland Expo West, where the company had a sneak preview of the 2016 truck in the Four Wheel Camper booth (complete with camper).  I liked a lot of what I saw. The interior, particularly, seemed more of a piece than that of our 2012. The new 3.5-liter V6 seemed poised to better the 4.0’s power and fuel economy. There were rumors of increased body rigidity due to the use of high-strength steel. Crawl Control and Multi-terrain Select would bring LR4 levels of off-pavement capability to the truck. All very promising.

There was one detail I wanted to check (besides the frame, already whined about here). Our 2012 Tacoma came with rear drum brakes—a cheap holdover even at the time, when the Nissan Frontier, for example, had boasted standard four-wheel discs as early as 2008 (as does our 2004 F350). I headed to the back of the new truck and peered through the wheel slots—and saw a cast iron brake drum. 

I was floored. But I thought, optimistically, Okay, maybe this is still a prototype mule, equipped with some current features that will be updated for production. Surely?

No such luck: The 2016 Tacoma comes with ventilated front disc and rear drum brakes (as does the new Hilux!). But there’s more. When asked by reviewers—presumably as incredulous as I—why the commitment to a century-old brake design on a truck advertised as “Raising the bar—again,” Toyota’s response was, not making this up, “Drum brakes are better off road.” 

The Toyota engineering rep claimed that the only advantage to rear discs—which, he admitted, are more resistant to heat-related fade—is for “heavy towing.” (Note here to you potential mid-size truck customers looking to tow your boat or loaded adventure trailer—or, for that matter, carry a camper: Toyota just implied you should shop elsewhere.) The engineer further claimed that drum brakes expose less of the mechanism to road grit, and are less susceptible to vibration from heat-related warping—this latter referring to brake disc warpage caused by overheating, which can create a shudder felt through the pedal when stopping.

Let’s look at these claims. First, Toyota says that discs aren’t necessary in the rear because rear brakes are less susceptible to heat fade than front brakes. The latter is absolutely true. Thus, by their own logic, the statement that rear drums are preferred to forestall possible heat-related vibration makes exactly zero sense, since they already told us that rear brakes are less likely to overheat in the first place. This specious argument would be better used to justify front drum brakes. If you’re having a problem with warping front brake discs, you need to redesign your front brakes, not put drum brakes in back to “reduce vibration.” And if you’re having issues with overheating front brakes, wouldn’t you want the best brakes possible on the rear?

Second, the claim that drum brakes are better sealed against debris, for example mud, is actually valid—to a point. Since the brake drum wraps around the shoes, temporary immersion in goop is less likely to let any inside. Disc brakes, on the other hand, can start squealing quickly when dunked in mud (So, again—why not drums in front too, Toyota?). However, once goop impacts itself inside a drum brake, it’s way harder to get out. Ask me how I know. A disc, on the other hand, will quickly clear itself. And were we talking about moisture? Ever driven a vehicle with drum brakes on all four wheels through a stream, then tried them on a downhill section a bit farther on? I remember the first time I did so with my all-drum 1973 FJ40: There were no brakes. It took 20 yards of frantic pumping before the water cooked out of those shoes and I got a faint sense of deceleration. That FJ40 now has discs on all four wheels. If you drive a truck with rear drums through water, your braking will be compromised until they dry out. Any claim that rear drums are “better off road” must either ignore or excuse reduced braking effectiveness after water crossings.

Screen Shot 2015-09-13 at 5.10.20 PM

Above: A representative photo of a drum brake. This one happens to be on a Ford Model T . . .

And what about on-road driving, which, let’s be honest, comprises 90 percent of even the most adventurous driver’s mileage? Say, a long, twisting descent off a mountain? In such conditions your front brakes are providing between 60 and 70 percent of your braking force—which means that a minimum of a third of the work is being handled by the rear brakes. If those brakes are drums, which the builder of your truck has admitted are more susceptible to fade than disc brakes, well, again, your braking is compromised. 

How about maintenance? Anyone who’s serviced both knows that disc brakes are easier to work on, and far easier to check for wear.

Are there any incontestible advantages to rear drum brakes? Sure, and you know the answer: cost. And the rear axle is where the vehicle’s parking brake is located. A drum brake does excellent double duty as a parking brake; a disc must usually have a small auxiliary drum to perform parking duties, further adding to the expense.

Does this sound alarmist? Am I predicting sure death for anyone stupid enough to buy a truck with rear drum brakes? Of course not. Nevertheless, brakes are the number one safety item on your vehicle. And disc brakes are superior to drum brakes, period. If Toyota wants to continue to economize on this feature in the face of all its competition, fine. Sell us on other features. But don’t try to tell us drum brakes are better. That insults the intelligence of legions of loyal owners, including this one.

Read More
Jonathan Hanson Jonathan Hanson

The greener grass syndrome

2 Twiga Lodge, Shaw Safaris, Mt Meru, Arusha NP

Spend any time on overlanding forums or blogs (including, I confess, this one), and you’ll read countless references to, pleas for, and bitching about currently manufactured overlanding vehicles not available in the U.S. These include, in essentially descending frequency of appearance and magnitude of whining, the Toyota Land Cruiser FZJ78 Troopie, the Land Rover Defender 110 and 130, and the Toyota Hilux, followed by a half dozen models dear to aficionados of ‘lesser’ brands: the Nissan Navara and Patrol, Volkswagen Amarok, the excellent rest-of-world Ford Ranger, even the almost-made-it-here Mahindra.

Occasional articles crowning this one or that one as the “ultimate” expedition vehicle simply exacerbate the sense of deprivation, while the author comes across as archly more worldly than those merely dreaming about driving such machines. 

Kenya Hilux jpeg.jpg

Are we really that deprived in the U.S., or is this angst simply human nature at work?

I’ve been lucky enough to put many thousands of miles under the wheels of some of those unobtanium models, as well as a whole bunch more under a generous selection of U.S.-spec alternatives, and—while this might sound like waffling—I think it’s a bit of both. The good news is I also think things are changing for the better.

The major legitimate deprivation we suffer, in my opinion, centers more around engines than platforms. Specifically, we have traditionally been denied the plethora of sturdy small diesels and turbodiesels available elsewhere. There can be little doubt that a diesel engine is the best choice for most expedition use, for reasons varying from longetivity to fuel economy to safety (higher flash point, thus lower fire risk). Yet in the majority of otherwise suitable four-wheel-drive vehicles available in the U.S., various gasoline engines are the only choices. Our Tacoma’s option list gave us the choice of a four-cylinder gas engine or a six-cylinder gas engine; no box to check for the Hilux’s 1KD-FTV three-liter turbodiesel. Likewise the Nissan Frontier cannot be had with the brilliant turbodiesel of its otherwise twin the Navara. On and on.

Those of the anti-government-controlled-anything bent blame this on emission regulations. Sorry, but nonsense. If Ford can certify its 6.7-liter V8 turbodiesel, and Volkswagen can certify the Golf’s 1.8-liter four-cylinder turbodiesel, you can’t convince me Toyota and Nissan couldn’t do the same with something in between if they wanted to. Like it or not, I’m quite sure simple economics is behind it: If Toyota thought they could sell enough turbodiesel Tacomas here to ensure a profit, they’d come up with an engine.

For further proof that regulation is not to blame, look at Ram, with its new state of the art 3.0-liter EcoDiesel, which renders a full-size pickup capable of genuine 25mpg-plus economy, and the upcoming Cummins-ized Nissan Titan. And if you read my rant about the Toyota Hilux linked above, specifically the whinging about that truck’s fully boxed chassis and turbodiesel engine, well, ladies and gentlemen, I give you the 2016 Chevrolet Colorado. Fully boxed chassis, check. Hyper-efficient 2.8-liter four-cylinder turbodiesel, check. Four-wheel disc brakes, traction control, hill-descent control, check. In fact the only thing the Hilux has that the Colorado doesn’t is endorsement from various insurgent groups as a platform for a 12.7mm machine gun. If we can do without that stylish association, perhaps it’s time we looked to our own shores for an expedition-capable mid-sized truck.

Ah, the astute among you will ask, what about the dreaded ultra-low-sulfur diesel fuel mandated in the U.S., and the associated engines that will self-destruct if fed full-fat-sulfur fuel? It’s true that as of right now, ULSD fuel is commonly available only in the U.S., Canada, Europe (where it was first introduced), and a few additional countries. However, that availability is increasing steadily, even in Africa, and I predict ULSD will be a worldwide commodity in a few years. Remember that a few decades ago we went through the same situation with unleaded gasoline, now standard virtually everywhere.

Don’t want to wait for universal ULSD to buy a world-class expedition vehicle? Go get yourself a Jeep Wrangler Rubicon Unlimited. Sure, you’ll be limited (for the moment at least) to a gasoline engine, but in almost every other respect the Rubicon Unlimited can hold it’s own with the world’s Troopies and Defenders. In fact, in the latest edition of Tom Sheppard’s Vehicle-dependent Expedition Guide, you’ll find a two page spread comparing four top-level expedition vehicles—one of which is the Wranger Rubicon Unlimited. Rumors keep circulating that the U.S. Wrangler might get a turbodiesel option soon; it’s already available in the ROW (rest-of-world version). Other gas-engined-but-capable models to consider are the 4Runner Trail Edition, the Nissan Xterra and Pathfinder, the Ford Explorer, and Chevy Tahoe. And there’s nothing that says overlanding can’t be luxurious: The Land Rover LR4 is a superbly capable backcountry vehicle.

So far I’ve only mentioned new vehicles. Look into the used market and your choices expand exponentially. First, the 25-year importation requirement has reached a point on the calendar that allows us to import early Defenders and 70-Series Land Cruisers—in fact entire businesses are springing up to take advantage of this situation. You can order a 110 or Troopie and have it delivered. Along with several friends, we recently imported four mid-1980s ex-MOD (Ministry of Defense) Defender 110s, three of which we are updating and refurbishing, one of which is being sold (if you're interested, email me).

If you imported a 25-year-old Land Cruiser 70-Series up to now, you could get it with the reliable but, um, modestly powered 2H diesel; now the superb 1HZ, introduced in 1990, should be coming in legally. My experience has been that it’s easy to find Defenders in good to excellent shape in the UK; however, the available 70-Series Land Cruisers tend to be well-used (i.e. BTS) examples from Australia. This might change as more become available from the Middle East (which would also make them left-hand-drive).

But let’s move back to more mainstream U.S.-available models. The U.S.-spec 80- and 60-Series Land Cruiser station wagons make superb platforms for building up a reliable and durable overlanding vehicle. Sahara veteran Chris Scott rates the 60 as the best all-around such machine on the planet—albeit with the ROW turbodiesel. Several years ago Roseann and I refurbished a rust-free $2500 FJ60 with a new turbodiesel engine, a Toyota five-speed gearbox, suspension, lockers, paint, and interior. Some shockingly poor workmanship from the company that did the conversion turned the project epic for a time, but in the end we wound up with an essentially new 25mpg 60-Series for about the same price we would have paid for a base 4Runner. We still miss that vehicle.

While they don’t have the Out-of-Africa cachet of the classic expedition vehicles, American pickups are fine choices for long-distance travel, as proved conclusively over several decades by Gary and Monika Wescott of the Turtle Expedition. A pre-2006 Ford, Chevy, or Dodge turbodiesel 3/4 or 1-ton pickup, mounted with a Four Wheel Camper, will run on the diesel fuel available in world markets and will be a comfortable home away from home for as long as you care to stay on the road.

Funny: The more I thought about it, the more options I thought of for those of us ‘stuck’ with U.S.-legal models to own extremely capable long-distance overlanding vehicles. 

Does this mean I’m going to stop bitching about the Hilux?

Probably not.

One last thing: Rest assured that the inevitability of human nature means those sitting in the lovely green grass on the other side of the fence frequently suffer the same syndrome we do. We recently stopped in North Berwick, Scotland, to visit Duncan Barbour, ex Camel Trophy team manager, coordinator of new-vehicle-introduction gigs around the world for Mercedes, Toyota, and other marques, and mainstay of the Overland Expo training team. North Berwick (say “berrick”) is a picturesque village on the shores of the Firth of Forth just east of Edinburgh, with Victorian streets narrow enough that drivers of Fiat 500s in opposing lanes need to mind their mirrors. We drove up a tiny country lane to a tiny residential street, turned the corner to Duncan’s place, and found . . .

Note, even, the 18-wheeler running lights on the roof. Duncan, Duncan . . .

Note, even, the 18-wheeler running lights on the roof. Duncan, Duncan . . .


Read More

The worst thing to happen to a pair of gloves

. . . is to lose one of them, especially when they are your favorite.

A few months ago, I lost the right hand of my favorite motorcycle gloves: the “Sambia” by HELD. They were a splurge buy after my motorcycle trip to South America. The flimsy pair of Fox gloves I had taken with me (a bargain at $20 a pair) had served me well during the trip, and I was impressed they had lasted the entire 6 months.

Testing Held, Rev'it!, and Klim summer gloves

I used to balk at gloves that cost more than $100, and before buying the Helds I had never owned a pair of motorcycle gloves that cost that much. The Held gloves came in at $120 USD, but they were worth every penny. I have long fingers and the Sambias comfortably accommodate that. They are made of Kangaroo leather on the palm, breathable nylon on the back—sewn together with the seams on the outside of the fingertips—with hard plastic, ventilated protection over the knuckles. I had never put on a glove that fit in all the right places and moved in the right direction until then. Hours on the bike did not deter its comfort factor.

Stitching on the Held Sambia gloves

When I lost one of the gloves, I couldn’t help but be frustrated and sad. I live in Panama where there is no regular mail service to easily order another pair. So I had to find what was in stores here. Luckily mall culture is huge and there are a couple motorcycle apparel stores, although brand selection is limited.

Returning to my self-imposed limit of not spending more than $100, I eventually found two pairs of motorcycle gloves: Rev’it! “Striker,” which retail for $80 USD, and then during a subsequent purchase, Klim’s “Adventure” gloves (non-current version) for $60 USD.

"Connect" fingertips on the Rev'it! Striker gloves

Why did I buy two pairs when I only needed one? Because I made a rookie mistake when I bought the Rev’it! Strikers. At the store I appreciated the basic features of the gloves: the goatskin leather palm with breathable nylon on the back (this time seams on the inside) and a plastic knuckle protector that wasn’t as bulky as Helds. One feature I really liked was the additional contact fabric on the first finger and thumb, which makes using smartphones with gloves on that much easier. I had fitted them in an air-conditioned store and they felt great. When I took a weekend trip during humid 37ºC (98ºF) weather, I realized I bought a size too small. The circulation in my hands was cut off. I tried them a second time during another long ride to see if the humidity had helped the leather stretch at all . . . Nada.

I went back to the store to buy a second pair in a bigger size, but as with many lessons learned in Panama, you buy it when you see it because if you go back to get it, chances are it won’t be there. And they weren’t. More Rev’it! gloves would not be in stock for another couple of months.

So I bought a pair of Klim gloves at another store. The Klim gloves are all right and they work just fine, but I can feel the downgrade in materials. The padding is decent, but the leather on the palm is thin. They breathe well, which is nice in the heat, but my biggest gripe is that the cuff is too short. I don’t want to worry about getting sun burned on my wrist when I ride. To compare Klim to Rev’it you can notice the differences, but to compare Klim to Held is not fair. For twice the price you definitely get twice the glove. The biggest lesson I learned is to be more careful with my favorite gloves because, as far as I know, a “lost and found” for single motorcycle gloves does not exist.

After spending some time riding with these three pairs of gloves, which would I buy again? The Rev’it Strikers (of course in a correct size). For the price you get a lot of glove, and the smart-phone friendly fingertips sealed the deal.

Motorcyle gloves are not created equal

Finally, I will impart this piece of advice, which I wish I had known before buying: What to look for in sizing a shorter style, warm-weather adventure glove?

·       With the glove on, stretch your fingers out as wide as possible and see if it pulls uncomfortably on any points of your hand. Look at the seams… can you see thread pulling away from the fabric? If so, it may be too tight. Check the palm for excess fabric. If you can pull more than a fingernail’s worth of fabric, it’s too loose and you need a size smaller. How do your fingertips feel? Is the space maxed out or do you have wiggle room? While you don’t want to have a lot space between you and the fabric, it should be snug enough to accommodate the natural expansion and contraction of your hands during different weather.

·       Clench your fingers into a tight ball and feel if the protection on the top of the hand or on the fingers digs in anywhere. Open and close your hand several times to see if there is any rubbing on your hands. This can cause sore spots or calluses. Try to minimize this.

·       The grip test (the emulate the grip on the handlebar): hold up your first two fingers like you are making a peace sign. With the opposite hand make a “c” shape. Place your peace finger hands on the leather of the “c” hand between the thumb and forefinger and push down at the curve. This is how your hands will feel for hours while riding. How do your fingertips feel now? If there is too much pressure in the fingertips or too much wiggle room try a different size or another style / brand.

 

For more information on the gloves mentioned, check out the following websites: Rev'it! Striker,  
Klim Adventure (current version) and Held Sambia. 

You can find more reviews and travel stories at: AlisonsWanderland.com

Read More

Hint: When using “Search,” if nothing comes up, reload the page, this usually works. Also, our “Comment” button is on strike thanks to Squarespace, which is proving to be difficult to use! Please email me with comments!

Overland Tech & Travel  brings you in-depth overland equipment tests, reviews, news, travel tips, & stories from the best overlanding experts on the planet. Follow or subscribe (below) to keep up to date.

Have a question for Jonathan? Send him an email [click here].

SUBSCRIBE

CLICK HERE to subscribe to Jonathan’s email list; we send once or twice a month, usually Sunday morning for your weekend reading pleasure.


Overland Tech and Travel is curated by Jonathan Hanson, co-founder and former co-owner of the Overland Expo. Jonathan segued from a misspent youth almost directly into a misspent adulthood, cleverly sidestepping any chance of a normal career track or a secure retirement by becoming a freelance writer, working for Outside, National Geographic Adventure, and nearly two dozen other publications. He co-founded Overland Journal in 2007 and was its executive editor until 2011, when he left and sold his shares in the company. His travels encompass explorations on land and sea on six continents, by foot, bicycle, sea kayak, motorcycle, and four-wheel-drive vehicle. He has published a dozen books, several with his wife, Roseann Hanson, gaining several obscure non-cash awards along the way, and is the co-author of the fourth edition of Tom Sheppard's overlanding bible, the Vehicle-dependent Expedition Guide.