Paul built Hawthorne as a two-door 110, a body style that all but disappeared in the U.S. and Europe because these trucks were worked hard and rarely survived intact. Finding one took real digging. The custom green paint isn’t British racing green. It’s a shade mixed in-house, and it carries the same restraint you find in classic Aston Martins and Bentleys. No logos needed. No shouting for attention.
Every body panel came off the frame, got painted on both sides, then epoxied before reassembly. The engine and drivetrain were rebuilt from the ground up. The powertrain leans into torque, the kind that pins you to the seat pulling away from a light and keeps the tires from spinning in sand, mud, or snow.
Land Rover has outsourced most of its parts supply, and the quality doesn’t hold up to Helderburg’s standard. So the team builds thousands of components in-house. On a classic Defender, that means touching more than 7,000 parts by hand, remaking whatever the aftermarket can’t deliver.
Inside, tan leather meets green piping and a green carpet edged in matching tan. The steering wheel is hand-carved wood with polished aluminum, not molded plastic off an assembly line. Shift knobs get hand-stitched leather. One needle, one thread, one person at a time. Seats, the center console, even the steering wheel position are measured and built to fit the client, whether they stand 5’6″ or 6’6″.
Half doors pull off with two nuts. Lift the top section away and you get an open-door feel with pockets built into the lower panel. Roll the side windows down, fold back the soft top, and Hawthorne turns into exactly what it was built for: sand runs in the Hamptons, mountain roads in Scotland, or a slow drive nowhere in particular with the dog riding in back.
