As a strict observer of the Tenth Commandment, I’ve never once coveted my neighbor’s ox; however there’ve been times I’ve admired a neighbor’s car or truck and thought I’d like to own one like it.
In the mid-1980s one of my wife’s friends bought an Isuzu Trooper II, and I thought it was a fine looking vehicle indeed. I’m sure you remember the Trooper II, the tall boxy truck designed by a draftsman who’d lost his French curve and had to use a straight-edge ruler instead.
Was there ever a Trooper I? In my quest for this mythical beast I stumbled across a clue in the archives of Car and Driver magazine. In a 1984 preview of the Trooper II, C&D writer Pete Lyons interviewed an Isuzu product-development manager who explained that the Roman numerals “I” and “II” were intended to differentiate Troopers with or without a rear seat. I’ve never seen a Trooper I, and I suspect that Isuzu changed their mind before production Troopers went on sale.
The design of the Trooper II was not 100% original, as it looked very much like the Range Rover Classic that first appeared in 1970. What impressed me most was that the Isuzu was less than half the price of the British SUV, and it didn’t have Lucas electrics.
I did not go immediately to the nearest Isuzu dealer with checkbook in hand, for two reasons: the Trooper’s 96 HP 2.3L engine seemed small, even to me, and an SUV with only two doors wasn’t practical for our family of five. By 1988 Isuzu had addressed both concerns, offering a 120 HP 2.6L 4-cylinder engine and four doors, too.
Actually, one might argue that my dark-red 1988 Trooper had six doors. In addition to its four side doors there were two more at the rear of the vehicle, one that was three-quarters the width of the truck and another door that was quite narrow.
Our new Trooper was intended for my wife, so I ordered the optional air-conditioning. I inherited her air-conditioned Toyota and sold with no regrets my Ford wagon, which had no a/c.
What was the Isuzu Trooper driving experience? When it was my turn behind the wheel, I sat high above the road, which meant I could see miles ahead through the almost-flat windshield. This helped me plan when I might need to slow down for a curve in the road, by which I mean any curve, no matter how slight. The Trooper was a half-foot taller than it was wide and it leaned rather more than my passengers might have liked. No doubt the Trooper’s narrow track was appreciated by off-road enthusiasts threading mountain-goat paths in the wilderness, but it did the truck no favors on the skidpad or on the twisting roads we ordinarily traveled.
My elevated position also helped me estimate when I’d have to stop for a traffic light. This was an important calculation because a red light meant I’d have to row through all five gears to get up to cruising speed again. I don’t remember that impatient drivers gesticulated at me with single digits while I accelerated at a leisurely pace, but if they did, I couldn’t see them anyway past the big spare tire hung on the wider of the two rear doors.
We had three children by the time we bought our Trooper, which meant that every seat was occupied when we went for a family drive. There were times when I wished for a third row of seats in the back of the truck into which I might buckle two of the children when their grandparents came to visit. Fortunately I was a subscriber to one of the greatest of automotive publications, the JC Whitney catalog.
If you are not familiar with the JC Whitney catalog, please take a moment to follow this link. In telling the history of the wonderful wishbook, Tom Halter shares my memory of Winky, the stuffed cat you put in the rear window of your car to blink one of its red eyes whenever you signaled for a turn.
I found in the then-current edition of the catalog a bench seat upholstered in beige vinyl, a color that matched the interior of our Trooper, and two pairs of seat belts. When my order arrived, I marked on the floor of the truck precisely where holes were needed for the stainless-steel bolts I purchased at a hardware store, then I went to work with my Sears Craftsman power drill. Once I’d drilled the necessary holes and positioned the seat and belts, I crawled underneath the Trooper to install washers and nuts, only to find that I’d missed by millimeters drilling into the gas tank. (What is the old saying, “God looks out for fools and drunks”?) Other than that near-miss my modification worked well for its intended purpose.
Ownership of our Trooper was not trouble-free. Each of the truck’s big wheels was fastened to its wheel hub by no fewer than six studs, studs that were not very robust, as more than one was snapped off by enthusiastic mechanics with industrial-strength impact wrenches. I found it was cheaper to rotate my tires myself, with greater care and a torque wrench, too.
The other mechanical problem I remember was something to do with the cylinder head. The Isuzu service manager quoted me a repair price of a thousand dollars. I acknowledged to him that the truck was out of warranty by then, but wasn’t it unusual to have a major engine problem so early? Without further discussion the good man offered to split the cost with me, which I thought was reasonable.
Otherwise the Trooper was a rugged vehicle, as one friend discovered when she forgot to set her parking brake completely while parked on a hill. She returned later to find her truck missing, until she spied it at the bottom of a nearby ravine. Some bushes and small trees had been flattened but there was no damage to the Trooper.
We had our Trooper for eight years, postponing the rite that was inevitable for any young family in the 1980s and 90s: the purchase of a minivan. Until we all succumbed to that tragic fate, there were no fewer than five families like mine wheeling around our small town in Trooper II’s. I have mostly good memories of our boxy truck; however, like my neighbors, I never bought another Isuzu.
Related CC reading:
Curbside Classic: 1986 Isuzu Trooper II – An Unfulfilled Desire
Your memory of the Trooper I jibes with mine. It basically couldn’t be sold in the US because the absence of a back seat turned it into a “cargo truck” which would have subjected it to the 25% “chicken tax” in the US, making it pointless to try to sell here.
I await more comments about this good looking truck .
-Nate
These quite-handsome old square riggers sailed under the flag of the mighty GM here, named as a Holden Jackaroo. (The latter bit is a real word for a general hand on outback farms). They were a bit sniffed at as off-roaders, largely because the 2.3 engine lacked willing, but that stuff improved over time. They sold well for years and years as Holdens, each model getting nicer, and arguably, they still sell them now that Holden’s long dead: Isuzu, selling only the descendant of these and twin-cab 4wd utes, does very well here.
I’ve driven a new one just like this one in the past. It was bumpy, and felt rather like piloting a car from up an observatory tower, but it had a glassy (and yes, slow) appeal to it. Like all Isuzus ever made, they lasted largely forever.
As an aside, I think I have lived a sheltered life: I never have had a neighbor with an ox. I HAVE lived two doors down from a neighbor who was sized like one, but that is not the same thing.
We bought an ’88 Buick station wagon for my wife, but it hurt her back. So we replaced it with a red/white Trooper. 2.6 4-cyl and I was told by a mechanic that the auto tran was a Borg Warner copy. I also drove it, pulling my drift boat and on many fishing and hunting trips. In low range, it would almost climb a tree.
10 years, 175,000 miles and two teenage daughters, the trans gave out and I couldn’t find a reasonable repair or replacement. So we traded it in on a Honda Passport. Honda, caught flat by the upcoming SUV revolution, rebadged Isuzu’s Rodeo (ironically, years later, used Passports were worth almost 20% more than a Rodeo).
My all-time favorite SUV. I regret never owning one, as it would have fit me to a tee. Tall, narrow, boxy, four cylinder, stick shift and able to take on any off-road situation. The lack of power wouldn’t have bothered me, even with the early 1.95 or 2.3L engines. And yes, rugged as an ox.
I considered a later 4-door with the Chevy 2.8 V6 and automatic for Stephanie to drive, but it had lost its gnarly edge.
The explanation of the ‘II’ designation reminds me of the old Lark VI and VIII which were just Studebaker’s odd way of indicating the number of engine cylinders.
With the basic, practical, two-box styling and flat windows, the Tooper II seems like something of a poor-man’s Mercedes G-class (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing) and it’s all the more a pity that Isuzu couldn’t make more of a go of it in the US.
It’s fun to read the positive memories and experiences with these Troopers. Like many of us, I found these very appealing and test drove one in late ‘89, a beige 2.6 with 5 speed. At the time we had no kids and two pickups, and the idea was to replace our 4WD Ford Ranger with an SUV (did we even use that term then?). We test drove a used 3.0 V6 4Runner but actually liked the Isuzu better. In the end we kept the Ranger, sold the 2WD pickup and bought a VW T3 Vanagon Westfalia. Though that was replaced by an SUV by 1995. Two kids, no minivan (the Vanagon doesn’t count 😀)
I still see these around occasionally; I posted a neighborhood Trooper II as a Curbside Find not too long ago, but I haven’t seen it for a few months now.
It’s always good to read a recollection of a Trooper II. I’ve written about mine (and also Winky and the JC Whitney catalog) here on CC before, but I’ll just recap by saying that of all the vehicles that I’ve had and parted with, the 1988 Trooper II is the one that I most regret letting go of. Ours (red and white like Mike S’s) was taken out by the head gasket issue you mention, combined with a shifty Isuzu dealer and one of those times in life when things are just too busy and hectic to fight about it. In the end, I just took the money the dealer offered to take the pristine-bodied vehicle with no engine off of my hands, and that was that.
Except that I still want a Trooper nearly 30 years later.
Interestingly, the only thing that my Trooper was missing (that I would have wanted) was air conditioning. And this was because it too was my wife’s vehicle and at the time she was firmly in the school of “air conditioning is for weaklings and people who have too much money to waste”…so we found one that didn’t have it. All things considered, the lack of AC on ours may have been one reason (along with the manual trans) why I never felt that the Trooper was under-powered.
Love the part of part of your story about drilling for the seat mounts. Drunks and fools indeed. Been there, done that.
I like how it’s got a small extra gearstick for the kids to play with.
In’87 I bought my first house, a 1920’s craftsman bungalow that had received very few updates over the decades. So I knew my ‘81 Corolla coupe wasn’t going to cut it at Lowe’s. I’m a basic kind of guy, and I was drawn to the Trooper’s basic kind of design. Test driving it though threw me for a loop – it was so bouncy and ponderous, a million miles from how my Toyota drove. That’s on me – I should have reset my expectation to what the Trooper was and not my Toyota. All said, I finally bought a Nissan hardbody king cab with the V-6. The Nissan served me well for 13 years and 275k miles, but once the kid came along I needed 4 doors, airbags, and it was finally time to throw in the towel and get my first automatic transmission. A 2001 Trooper replaced the Nissan and remains one of my favorite cars owned ever.
I owned one and it was the most expensive to repair vehicle I ever had. Every part was outrageously priced- $1500 for a cat-back exhaust system that rusted away in two years, a $800 fuel pump flange that, again, corroded into nothingness. The $500 hydraulic clutch cylinder that failed suddenly. Brake calipers that were made out of gold. Once the rear doors started to rust, it was game over. The door hinges are welded on and guess what? The pins rust-lock and are impossible to remove.
Great little truck in the snow and off road, even towed a pop-up camper with it. But there was never a time when there wasn’t something wrong with it and it was always expensive, even fixing it in the garage. A swing and a miss.
Mine was a ’91, 2.6 EFI, 5-speed, 4WD. I bought it in ’94 from my local Pontiac dealer for a steal; it was on their lot for quite a while. It was virtually trouble-free in the 2 years I had it. It would go anywhere (slowly) and would swallow up anything I could throw in (or on) it. The fuel pump locked up a couple times- a whack with a mallet fixed that.
I decided that it was kind of silly to drive this beast around alone, so I sold it to my brother. His wife drove it for probably 4 years with no major problems, aside from having the rusty rear doors repaired.
Sidebar- I still own an Isuzu. My ’94 Pickup just won’t die!
What a great write-up. My mom had one from new back in ~1984 (from memory). This was in Venezuela, where it was marketed as the “Caribe 442”. Only years later did we figure out it was a Japanese vehicle (not that my parents cared particularly).
Ours was bright red, 2 door, 4cyl engine. It had some light blue stripes on the sides, giving it a bit of a sporty image. The wheels were the white “pepperpots”. We loved how it looked which was basically the 2-door version of the photo attached. I still think its a handsome vehicle in 2025
I was a small kid back then but remember my parents noting that it was quite gutless and required a bit of a trash to get moving. Apart from that it was great and did us good service until we left the country a few years later.
This model Isuzu Trooper has mostly gone now, the later 3.0 TDI and V6 models are still around but getting scarce,
Quite a few of them wore Irmscher decals or handling by Lotus insignia it doesnt appear to stop the cornering lean but they hold the road ok, Isuzu still build pickups at the basement of their truck range but no more SUVs.