We’re both wondering whether the Land Rover – and me, its driver – are going to make it through. Riding shotgun alongside me is Mike Bishop, an ex-pat Aussie who grew up thrashing Series vehicles around the Bush and is now Land Rover Classic’s resident historian, and he has just pointed out that he recently had to organise the recovery of a much more modern Landy from this very stretch of boggy, rutted mud.
Our vehicle is a 1965 Series IIA with a standard 2.25-litre petrol engine. No traction control, no ‘All Terrain Response’ dial; just mechanical four-wheel drive and a set of period Michelin XCAs that look unhelpfully road-biased. And neither of us is wearing boots. If we get stuck in the mud, at least one of us is going to get utterly filthy.
Being a bloke – and because I’m sitting next to an Australian – I can hardly wimp out now, of course. ‘I reckon she’ll be fine,’ I
