Welcome to 'Profiles in "Courage,”' a new feature here on the Roverlog. In this series of articles, we seek to recognize individuals who have aimed for the stars in pursuit of their Land Rover ownership experience. Regardless of whether a project is still just a twinkle in one's wallet, a fully realized going (and stopping) concern, or an utter failure to be kept secret from your mates, those stories need to be told.
I use the word "courage," because while your friends and family members may (don't worry, they do) think you are a wrench-wielding, environment-destroying, garage-locked Neanderthal, in your Land Rover's eyes, you are a Hero. Maybe even a Superhero. The day you handed over a cashier's check or stack of Benjamins for that algae-covered, flat-tired hulking pile of aluminum with a chassis and firewall doing their best Swiss Cheese impersonation, you revealed your true nature. You were either brave or stupid. Nobody wants to be stupid, so let's go with brave.
I'll start with my own story, and some thoughts about why Land Rovers captivate the imaginations of so many, and to such extent. And, why I'm so stupid. I mean, brave. Right then.