The history of Land Rover is rich and long and you can read about it here but the video above tells you all you need to know. My truck was assembled in Spain by the Santana Motor Company (which makes it something of a bastard to Land Rover purists). Over the last 18 months I’ve come across the abbreviation “CKD” but never knew what it meant until I found the following reference in the latest issue of Rovers Magazine:

Santana, or more formally, “Metalurgica de Santa Ana, SA,” started in 1956, and by 1958, had signed an agreement with Land Rover for CKD [Completely Knocked Down] kits; literally, a shipment of parts from Solihull that when assembled at their Lenares factory, avoided steep tariffs. Given their contemporary road conditions and weaker economy, the “Land Rover Santanas” provided the country with a workhorse that could tackle the challenging environment.

As Land Rover wound down Series III production, it chose to end its CKD agreement with Santana in 1983, just prior to the introduction of the 90/110 coil sprung models. Santana continued to manufacture its own version of the Series III with worthwhile enhancements. Santana introduced comfort features, such as better seats and a more stylish fascia, and by the 1980s, had created more contemporary styling than just the plastic grille and “safety dashboard” of the Series III. As Spain attracted more ex-pats and vacationers, Santanas became more lifestyle vehicles, although the Spanish police forces retained them for their use.

Ed Starr, the owner/operator of Resurrected Rovers, Chocorua, MM, has worked on them and become a fan. “Santana made some needed modifications to the Series Land Rovers to make them even better,” Ed noted. “They put an oil cooler on the base models before Land Rover introduced them on the MoD ones. A different sized oil bath filter made it easier to service. And, of course, they went to parabolic springs to improve the ride over the standard leaf spring. They’re just as easy to work on as a UK Series Rover.”

If your truck wasn’t one of the first hundred to roll off the assembly line in jolly old Solihull, England, well, it ain’t a real Rover, mate (to The Purists). You’d have to sneak in to the Tri Delt house to find a snobbier bunch of ladies.