A Toast to My LR3 at 200,000 Miles

Every Land Rover owner sub-group has its unique discussion topics. Series owners discuss tuning carburetors and rebuilding steering relays, Range Rover Classic owners discuss where to get a rare plastic trim piece, and L663 Defender owners discuss the hottest new modifications. In the LR3 community, one of the hottest topics is "how many miles do you have on yours?" This week, I hit 200,000 miles on my LR3. In many vehicles, that would be an end-game milestone, the sign to look for something new. In the LR3 world, it's just the first step toward extreme mileage accumulation.

Indeed, almost two decades after it launched in late 2004, the LR3 has become one of the can't-kill-it models in Land Rover's history. You never quite know how a new model is going to play out. Look at message board archives from 2004, and you'll see all sorts of die-hard Land Rover enthusiasts bashing the new LR3. It's not even called a Discovery in America! It's got fiber optic wiring for the stereo...can't wait until that fries! There are so many wires and electronics...that's worked well in our D2! It looks like a Ford Explorer! That air suspension will be a nightmare!

It's a constant story, the aversion to change in enthusiast communities. Look at newsletters for Land Rover clubs in the mid-1990s, and you'll see skepticism about the Discovery 1 -- the same vehicle many of those old-school owners later ended up driving, either as daily drivers or trail trucks. The opposite happened with the new Defender, and four years later, some early haters are now owners. Same with the LR3; go on those message board threads from the 2000s, and many of those posters have an LR3 of their own now listed in their signature line.

I was one of those skeptics. I've spent my entire life driving some form of Land Rover, and I figured I knew the coil-sprung Range Rover Classic and Discovery 1 platform well enough to keep driving them forever. I'd fixed up my 1994 Discovery together well enough to drive it to California in 2018, and I was happy with it. But by early 2021, it was having some issues, both with electrical and rust. It's all fixable, but you need a daily driver at the end of the day. My best friend Max Thomason happened to be selling his 2005 LR3 that he'd had for a few years. I knew it was well-maintained. I knew it was a rust-free Georgia and North Carolina car. I knew it wasn't that expensive. In need of something to drive while I fixed up my Discovery 1, I flew down to Charlotte and drove the LR3 back to New Jersey. I'd sell it when I was done getting my old trucks sorted; I was sure of that.

The first mistake I made was giving it a name: Fletcher, after backpacking pioneer Colin Fletcher. Never name a car you don't plan to keep.

The second mistake I made was driving it to Mexico eight months after I bought it. Somewhere between Marfa and Mobile, I fell in love. I would not be selling this vehicle.

Last week, somewhere around Rocky Mount, North Carolina, on a trip down the Eastern Seaboard that was supposed to end in Savannah but is now turning back for home in Cape Coral, Florida, my odometer rolled over 200,000 miles. I've never done that in a car of my own. The feeling was exhilarating, slightly terrifying, and inspiring.

The LR3 has been one of the most reliable and useful things I have ever owned. I've taken it to 29 American states and three countries in the three years I've owned it. I haven't commuted to an office since March 2020, yet I've racked up almost 60,000 miles—more mileage in three years than I'd put on any of my other Land Rovers.

The flexibility of the platform is the best part. I've simultaneously discovered the joy of boondock camping, whether in the backcountry or a Walmart parking lot. The LR3 is the perfect tool: a twin mattress fits down one side, my gear down the other. A set of wind deflectors means I can discreetly crack the windows; the abundant storage in the back means everything that needs to be safely tucked away can be hidden. The fold-down tailgate makes a perfect camp kitchen with my stove and Ignik Gas Growler. With a Cascadia 4x4 solar panel on the hood, I never lose power. The LR3 has been my home for the night for over two months of the last three years.

The LR3 fits in everywhere, in that magic spot where a Land Rover is just old enough to be either old money or clapped out, and you can't tell from far away. The design, so "Explorer-like" in 2004, has aged far better than its Ford compatriot, proving to be an excellent example of early 2000s British post-modern design. The interior has storage for everything from a champagne bottle (door pockets, it's even pictured in the manual) to a box of cookies (for those without a navigation screen like myself, the cubby you get instead is a great snack holder). It's a car for all seasons. I've lived out of it in the backcountry of Arizona and Texas, used it as an airport limo for friends going on ski trips, and driven it to weddings and funerals. With a set of all-terrains and rock sliders, it's a discreet but always-ready build.

Most people would be thinking about a new car at 200,000 miles, thinking that the cascade of problems is about to begin. Looking at LR3 Facebook groups, I don't think I'll be doing that. 200,000 is the beginning of the journey for me and this truck, and I know of people who have racked up well over a hundred thousand more miles on their vehicles. Online, I've seen examples that have gone to half a million miles, and that seems like a good goal. Everything seems possible with maintenance and a good parts supplier like Atlantic British.

There are so many places we still have to go together. I haven't taken this truck to two of my favorite places yet: Death Valley and British Columbia. I want to take it to the corners of the North American road network: Anchor Point in Alaska, Cape Spear in Newfoundland, and Key West in Florida. I'm tempted to drive it down to Panama, taking the Pan-American Highway through Central America, like I dreamed of doing back in middle school when I'd come home and search the blogs from world travelers on the Africa Overland Network.

It's a special vehicle that goes this far, this well; it's a reputation reserved for something like an old American pickup truck, a Suburban, or a Land Cruiser. But the LR3 is more than worthy of living among these giants of reliability, as long as the 4.4-liter V8 keeps rumbling down the road.