The world is filled with all sorts of capable and interesting cars, all ferrying us humans from A to B and back again. WRONG. There is only one car. It is the 1990s Toyota Land Cruiser FJ80.

This is the car. This is the car of motion. This is the car of travel. This is the car of exploration and expedition and comfort and strength and durability and longevity. This is the wondercar. This is the good light.

The seven main bearing straight six. The straight axles. The locking diffs. The Biggie interior. Not that Toyota didn’t also build these with cloth interiors, stripped down to the bare necessities of what one would need to drive, say, from here to Uzbekistan. This is the last bridge .

Not only is this the only car, it is from the only time.

The FJ80 Land Cruiser was designed during the peak of Japan’s 1980s economic bubble, and is overbuilt and overdesigned to a degree that we may never see again.

Let us look on it.

Stare.

Dream.

It is already taking us away.

Out. Distant. The half-heard cry of an unknown bird. A bead of sweat stinging the eye.

Re-opened. We are no longer here.