“Dude, you’re rolling coal,” my copilot hollered at me from the lefthand passenger seat of my 1986 Land Rover Defender.
“Huh?” I replied, leaning over for a better look at the sideview mirror. To my chagrin, I saw plumes of black smoke pouring out of the tailpipe of the old truck. “Oh, son of a…!” I shouted. “I wonder what that’s about?”
Pushing full throttle up the mountains outside Big Bear, California, my four-cylinder diesel-powered British 4×4 was doing about 37 mph — 7 mph shy of the 45 mph speed limit. Meanwhile, it was churning out a smokescreen that would make James Bond’s gadget guru, Q, green with envy (and perhaps also with nausea from the fumes). …
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On the road, and trail, with 30 years of diesel-powered Land Rovers
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