Our 109 station wagon was the family vehicle at the time I was born in South Africa in the 60’s, through to my late teens. One of 7 children, naturally we fitted in perfectly. Although being the second youngest I could never sit in the middle row Migrating to that seat over the years was a huge status symbol. We did many a long trip and safari with roof rack loaded to the hilt.
Later came monthly LROC of SA trials events. My dad was chairman.
Then came the annual patrolling the fences in the Land Rovers at Kyalami (the local race track) in the 70s and 80s to prevent folks jumping in to watch the GPs for free. It really just cost them each about 6 beers and they got in.
Then came mandatory military duty. Riding the huge sand dunes in Namibia outside the base just out of boredom. Getting stuck was our goal. Punishing the vehicles then giving them back to maintenance as u.s. (unserviceable) was the fun part. ‘Here, fix this!’
Then riding between smaller air force bases in the semi arid desert just south of Angola out of necessity to move supplies.
Then I came to USA and started shaking, getting a dry throat and couldn’t sleep. Over the years I recognized it as Series withdrawal symptoms, so for rehab I bought one and am now OK. Its safe to say its in my blood. Still, my wife thinks getting it was a ‘silly’ idea
Ivar