A first-timer's view on Overlanding

My first taste of overlanding through Colorado’s San Juan Mountains with a crew of vintage Land Cruisers.

I’ll start by saying I had never been overlanding before.

So naturally, my first trip involved a convoy of vintage Toyota Land Cruisers, a group of guys who knew these old trucks inside and out, and a few days seeing just how high a 40-something-year-old FJ40 could get in the mountains of Southern Colorado.

Not a bad introduction.

We met up with our friend and Criquet model Chad Rhode, the guy behind @fj4play, along with a crew of fellow Land Cruiser obsessives. And I mean that in the best possible way. These guys don’t just own FJ40s. They know every rattle, lever, quirk, and questionable noise these things make.

I mostly showed up with cameras.

The Alpine Loop

The plan was to make our way through Colorado’s Alpine Loop, a network of old mining roads cutting through the San Juan Mountains.

Calling them “roads” could be considered generous.

We spent our days bouncing over rocks, crawling up switchbacks, crossing water, and slowly climbing higher into the mountains. Most of the FJ40s in our group had been around longer than I had, and somehow they seemed perfectly at home up there.

There’s something especially cool about seeing an old machine still doing exactly what it was built to do.

And you don’t move particularly fast in an FJ40. That’s kind of the point.

Windows down. Radios crackling between trucks. Pulling over when somebody spots something worth stopping for. Getting out to figure out the best line through a rough section. Occasionally wondering whether the 40-plus-year-old truck in front of you is actually going to make it up the hill.

It usually did.

A Different Kind of Road Trip

I’m used to traveling for Criquet shoots where there’s a schedule, a shot list, and some version of a plan.

This didn’t really feel like that.

Yes, I was there to make something for Criquet. I had cameras in the truck and clothes we needed to photograph. But pretty quickly, the trip became less about manufacturing moments and more about trying to keep up with the ones already happening.

A line of old Land Cruisers winding across the side of a mountain.

Someone underneath a truck fixing something.

Pulling off wherever looked like a good place for lunch.

Dust absolutely everywhere.

Cold mornings turning into sunny afternoons and then back into cold evenings.

A few beers once the trucks were parked for the night.

The cameras mostly just came along for the ride.

The FJ Guys

The best part, though, wasn’t really Colorado or even the trucks.

It was the people.

There’s an entire culture around these old Land Cruisers that I didn’t fully understand before the trip. Everyone has a story about where they found their truck. Everyone knows what’s been replaced, rebuilt, broken, welded back together, or left exactly the way Toyota made it. And everyone has an opinion about how an FJ40 should—or definitely should not—be modified.

When something inevitably goes wrong, everybody stops.

Tools come out. Someone crawls underneath. Someone else seems to magically have the exact obscure part that’s needed.

Then you keep going.

I came into the trip knowing almost nothing about overlanding and left understanding why people get completely hooked on it.

It’s not really about getting somewhere as efficiently as possible.

It’s almost the opposite.

Comfortably Off-Course

At Criquet, we throw around the phrase “Comfortably Off-Course.”

This trip might be the best explanation of that brand statement that I’ve experienced.

Take the old truck instead of the new one.

Take the dangerous dirt road instead of the paved-safe highway.

Stop when something looks interesting.

Spend a few days with good people somewhere your phone doesn’t have much to offer you.

And don’t worry too much about getting there quickly.

I went to Colorado thinking I was there to document a Criquet trip for a content grab.

Instead, I was immersed amongst a bunch of rad dudes in old Land Cruisers who gave me my first taste of overlanding.

Now I get it.

And I’d go again tomorrow. No questions asked.

Words and Photos By Griffin Boyd