Few vehicles summon up the sort of romance and nostalgia of the classic Land Rover Defender. The boxy, burly off-roader has stood for freedom and independence for decades, epitomizing the appeal of the outdoors even when trapped in the densest urban confines. Its rarity in the United States has pushed it even further into the realm of exclusivity; while most countries see them as farmland workhorses and stripped-down safari trucks, here in America, even high-mileage ones in mediocre condition often command price tags that could buy far newer, better-driving and more reliable vehicles.
Here’s the thing, though: the old Land Rover Defender kind of sucks.
There were much better off-roaders available in America than the old Defender
Subjectively, sure, it’s super cool. Objectively? It stinks. By the standards of modern vehicles, it’s crude, slow and unsafe. Hell, even by the standards of the 1990s, it was mediocre. Those final years of Defenders available in America were on sale alongside the storied likes of the third-gen Toyota 4Runner and 80-Series Land Cruiser, the XJ-gen Jeep Cherokee and the Mitsubishi Montero — all of which delivered more refinement and power than the Defender. Stacked against modern Land Rovers, Toyotas, Jeeps or other off-roaders, it’s even worse.

Old Defenders are irritating to drive on road
For the record, I’m not speaking out of a certain orifice like Ace Ventura here. Back in 2019, I was lucky enough to drive one of South Carolina-based Himalaya’s Defender by Himalaya models, which represents perhaps the best possible version of an original Defender. Off-road, traversing the deep wood trails of upstate New York at low speeds, it was delightful. But once back into the real world where there are, you know roads, it rapidly proved irritating.
The seating position, close enough to the controls, made every shift a long, deliberate process. The open flanks that seemed so inviting in the quiet woods stirred up the air to tinnitus-inducing levels. The slow steering that helped place the front end so carefully at 10 miles per hour felt painfully, almost unsafely cumbersome at the speed limit. Which, for the record, is about as fast as you’ll go on a highway, considering the brick-like aerodynamics and lack of power.