A gullwing hatch for the Troopy

Considering most of it was overseen from 6,000 miles away, the modifications to our 1993 Troop Carrier significantly exceeded our expectations. Mostly.

The Mulgo pop top conversion, installed at the Expedition Centre in Sydney before we ever saw the vehicle, was exactly what we wanted. Full standing headroom, a full-size drop-down bed, excellent ventilation. The roof was strong enough to walk on, and the modification added just two inches to the Troopy’s stock height. A 100-watt solar panel (which I later upgraded to 200 watts) provided power to the auxiliary battery for the fridge, lights, etc., and a bracket held a pair of MaxTrax.

The extensive internal plywood cabinetry, which Roseann had designed and a provider to the Expedition Centre had built from CAD plans, worked out just as we’d hoped. We still haven’t run out of storage space.

However. As a reasonably proficient carpenter, I was less than satisfied with the quality of the plywood, which appeared to be a better grade of standard five-ply big-box-hardware-outlet stuff. Worse, though, were the numerous nail and screw holes, which had been filled in with badly contrasting white wood putty, even on drawer fronts. Some day I plan to pull the entire unit out and replicate it in Baltic birch, with dovetailed drawers and invisible fasteners. But for now, as I mentioned, it’s perfectly functional.

One spot, though, is worse than the rest. The back of the tall sink cabinet backs up against the big front rear window on the driver’s (i.e. right) side—and it is peppered with nail and screw holes that aren’t even spaced consistently. It made me cringe every time I walked past it.

Ug. Ly.

Fortunately I came up with a solution that was both aesthetically pleasing and practical as well.

There is a bit of clearance between the back of the cabinet and the glass, varying between one and a half and two and a half inches. The plywood offered a tempting place to mount things such as a hatchet, Silky saw, and jack components. And Graham Jackson had recently sent me a link to the German company Explore Glazing, which makes extremely high-quality glass and aluminum gullwing hatches for 70-Series Land Cruisers, as well as for Jeeps, Land Rovers, G-Wagens, and, recently, the Ineos Grenadier. I got back with Graham and we each ordered one—I of course specified solid aluminum to better hide that wood work, even though the glass versions are quite dark.

Graham and I were both impressed with the quality of the hatches when they arrived. He installed his first, and his emails saved me some extra work.

The first task is to remove the factory window, which is not difficult. The hardest part is getting all the butyl sealant off, and I found that Gorilla tape worked very well to peel it off cleanly. Then comes the violent bit: The vertical lips of the 70 Series factory window opening are slightly curved, and the hatch frame is flat. So you need to use something like a short section of 2x4 and a small sledge to pound the edges of the frame reasonably flat. It take some real force (and wincing) since the sheet metal there is doubled. Once that’s done you can line up the hatch frame to drill the mounting holes. The frame uses a thick foam gasket as a seal, so if you haven’t got the window from perfectly flat it won’t matter.

I ran into one issue that was unique to our situation: The very nice pop-out latches of the Explore hatch ran into the back of the cabinet. So I had to drill and cut out two little rectangular holes in the cabinet for clearance. Access for tools was limited, so the openings are not as neat as they could be. I console myself with the thought that they match the rest of the “woodwork.”

With everything in place you can mount the dual hydraulic struts, which hold the hatch open firmly, even in a strong wind. At this point the hatch is usable and, according to the company, “99.9 percent waterproof.” However, they include a tube of Dow Corning 721 with which to caulk around the perimeter of the frame, thus completely sealing it and adding a finished look as well. The instructions say to apply the sealant, then brush the excess with a soap and water solution to remove it. But an email from Graham said, “Don’t do it! It just makes a mess.” So I simply applied the bead very carefully (using a zero-drip caulking gun) to be flush with the edge of the hatch frame, and cleaned the excess with a razor and scrubbing pad once it had cured.

To say I’m happy with the result would be an understatement. No longer do I have to look the other way when I walk past that window. And there was enough area on the cabinet to mount a hatchet, a Silky saw, the Troopy’s jack extensions, and a breaker bar mounted with the correct 21mm socket for the vehicle’s wheel nuts. There’s actually still a bit of space to consider.

If you don’t have an ugly cabinet to cover up, there are at least a couple of alternative functions for the Explore gullwing. If you like the idea of having a few tools quickly available behind the hatch, the company has an optional molle panel that provides ample opportunities for attaching odds and ends. Or, of course, you can simply use the hatch to access items in the interior of the vehicle without the need to open the rear doors and swingaways. One friend with a Troopy installed his fridge where it can be accessed either from the interior when camped with the roof up, or through the hatch for lunches or drinks.

The Explore Glazing hatch is expensive (around $500 plus shipping), but the quality is impeccable.

Explore Glazing is here.

Writing workshop with Roseann and Jonathan Hanson—limited availability

Jonathan and Roseann wrote their way across Australia in 2019.

Do you dream of becoming a full-time freelance writer, or would you just like to write well enough to contribute articles to a specialized magazine devoted to your favorite activity?

Do you have a short story or novel bottled up inside you? A children’s book? Or do you keep a field journal and simply want to record the world around you in a scientifically literate and yet interesting fashion?

Whether your passion is non-fiction travel and adventure writing, long or short-form fiction, journaling, technical, or scientific writing—you can enhance your ability with the guidance of two award-winning authors and editors with over 40 years of experience in those fields.

You’ll learn how to write an effective query, not just a copy of some boilerplate from a writer’s handbook. You’ll learn which queries go straight to the editor’s delete folder, and which get noticed. And you’ll learn how to write engagingly to capture your readers’ attention from the outset.

All this, and in a setting worth a stay on its own: beautiful Aravaipa Ranch, set amongst desert hills next to a perennial stream.

Space is very limited, and tuition with meals begins at just $695.

Please go here for full details. We’re really looking forward to this one.

The last of the last VDEGs—edit: Out of stock!

Edit: We sold out of these last copies in two days. Sorry!

Nearly 30 years ago, Tom Sheppard published the first edition of the Vehicle-dependent Expedition Guide under the auspices of Land Rover. The book quickly gained a reputation as the definitive guide for anyone planning remote vehicle-based travel, whether a weekend jaunt in Montana or a month-long research expedition in Mauritania.

I bought my first copy in 1999, and instantly fell under its spell: a fanatically detailed, practical guide that also inspired dreams of far horizons. The author’s background as an RAF test pilot showed in his meticulous dives not only into vehicles, driving, provisioning, and shipping, but clothing, communications, group leadership—even an investigation into the chemistry of automotive oils that could have come from a BP engineer. “Definitive” was not merely ad-speak for this book. And those images of Land Rovers crossing Sahara dunes kept me up at night forging far-fetched plans—many of which were subsequently realized.

Sheppard soon assumed full responsibility for the VDEG (as its author and fans refer to it), giving him much greater editorial freedom, and he kept abreast of new vehicles and technologies with frequent revisions and new editions.

In 2015 I was honored when Tom, by then a good friend, asked me to come on board. Together we significantly enlarged the VDEG to over 600 pages; four solid pounds covering the massive increase in overland-oriented products introduced in the previous decade, as well as new driveline, navigation, and communication innovations. That edition itself has been updated several times, most recently with an increase in physical size and larger print and photographs.

As Tom closed in on his 90th birthday, he mentioned the possibility of slowing down a bit (although he still rides his BMW from Great Offley into Hitchin for grocery shopping). And finally he let me know that the current print run would be the last. The Vehicle-dependent Expedition Guide is now out of stock on both sides of the Atlantic.

However, a well-known 4x4 trainer in the UK, who specializes in teaching special forces units and who uses both VDEG and Tom’s equally authoritative 4x4 Driving, offered to pay up front for one last run of 100 copies to keep providing to his students, at least for a while. Tom decided to increase the run to 140 copies and offer the extras for sale.

Thus I’m happy—if a bit conflicted as well—to announce a very limited opportunity to purchase one of the last 40 copies of the bible of overland travel. I have a list of those already signed up; if you’re willing to commit to a copy as well please contact me via email. This will on be a first-come, first-served basis, of course. We’re limiting the offer to one copy per customer please. The orders and payment will go directly to Tom in the UK once the books are printed; given the current favorable exchange rate, the final price will be little, if at all, higher than the last $80 cover price and U.S. shipping.

Pelican Air 1535: The best carry-on for adventurers?

Left and right: same weight.

Does anyone else reading this think there should be a law that commercial airliners be built with overhead storage space actually equivalent to the number of seats?

Until there is such a rule—and, to be fair, until airlines start cracking down on passengers who heave on board bulging suitcases laughably larger than the little trial box next to the gate desk—the struggle to snag overhead space during boarding will continue to resemble trench warfare. And if, like me, your carry-on holds such critical equipment as cameras (plus associated lithium batteries), lenses, and binoculars, you do not want to be forced at the last minute to have it stuffed (“Free of charge!” as they always say, gee thanks) in the cargo hold. That’s why you have a carry-on.

If you are lucky or quick or vicious enough to successfully place your bag in the overhead bin, you know you cannot expect that any care will be given to it by subsequent aspirants to the space. It needs to be as crush-resistant as a bathyscaphe (ooh . . . too soon?).

Twenty five years ago I bought my first Pelican case, a 1500 with a padded camera-organizer interior made by Lowe Alpine systems, and used it on my first assignment to Africa. On one game drive in Zambia it was on the back seat of an open Land Rover, and while I was in the front seat and the vehicle was moving at a good pace down a track, another passenger tried to move it and wound up tipping it over the back just as I turned and watched in helpless horror. The (fortunately closed and latched) case cartwheeled end over end for about 20 feet before coming to rest in a pile of elephant dung. It, and the cameras inside, emerged unscathed, and I’ve been a Pelican disciple ever since.

Thus, several years ago I settled on a 1510 Protector as my carry-on—actual, legal, carry-on size. It was, like all Pelican cases in the line, completely water- and dust-proof, and laughed off the efforts of fellow passengers to abuse it. It rolled on two wheels with an extendable handle (I hate the “walk-the-dog”-style four-wheeled cases, which render their owners nearly two humans wide on a crowded concourse), it was lockable, and, set upright, served nicely as a perch at airport gates equipped with fewer seats than the aircraft parked outside (don’t get me started on that one). It served me flawlessly on many flights to several continents.

The only problem with the 1510, at least for flying, was weight. It scaled at exactly 12 pounds empty, thus contributing significantly to its total load. Given the recent habit of some carriers—looking at you, New Zealand Air—to limit (and check) carry-on weights, this was an additional drawback.

A few years ago Roseann bought one of the then-new Pelican Air cases, a 1535, virtually identical in dimensions to the 1510 but a full three and a quarter pounds lighter. Pelican says it’s made from “HPX” polymer, which is up to 40 percent lighter than their regular material. I admit to being skeptical that the Air could hold up, but Roseann’s proved—at least for the purposes of air travel—every bit the equal of the 1510. Crush-proof, sit-on-able (although I wouldn’t stand on the lid as I do with the 1510). It still incorporates stainless-steel padlock protectors and a pressure-equalization valve, and is IP-67 and MIL-SPEC certified. The wheels roll on stainless-steel bearings, as in the heavier case.

I wondered what that three-pound, four-ounce weight reduction represented in terms of contents, and discovered that my Sony A9, mounted with a 24-105 zoom, weighs three pounds two ounces. So call it the camera, lens, and an extra battery. That’s an impressive savings. We’re now a two-1535 family.

One of the things I like most about Pelican is that they constantly look for ways to improve. The newer 1535, for example, has the effortless push-pull latch system, which Roseann’s does not, and also a center handle on the vertical top of the case, for more versatile handling. Finally, there’s a nifty business-card holder/ID case only accessible with the lid open.

Perhaps my sole, niggling reservation is the plastic issue. However—remember my original 1500? It’s still perfectly functional and used regularly, and is likely to last at least another quarter century. At least that sets it apart from single-use plastic bags and water bottles. Here’s hoping Pelican eventually develops a completely recyclable polymer.

That aside, the Pelican Air 1535 comes highly recommended.

Reinforced padlock eyes, effortless push-pull latches, pressure-compensation valve, and sturdy business/ID card holder.

Pelican is here.