RUCKUS TRUCK

There’s a bias that I share with a lot of other auto writers, enthusiasts, and really any otaku of any special interest: If I can’t get it, it’s somehow cooler than the things I can get. This also extends to things that are hard to get, thus the massive interest in 25-year rule cars, rest-of-world parts, and cultural trends. Dodge vans are fine as far as vans go, but dajiban are fantastic. Factor in the bloated cost of new vehicles and the possibly misguided desire for simpler new cars with fewer features, and suddenly the Toyota Hilux Champ looks like a panacea for a too-small, too-niche group: me, and those like me. Too damned few. The IMV Origin concept takes it to an extreme that even I wouldn’t contemplate, but it’s still OK to drool.

Let’s back up. The Hilux Champ is a very simple commercial truck built in Thailand and the Philippines for developing markets in Asia and South America. Remember, before the Tacoma, the Toyota Truck/Hilux? Those were already pretty austere, but there were One Ton commercial versions that could cram 2,655 pounds (advertised) in the bed and tow 5,000 pounds. Not that either would be much fun; the One Ton had a ride to match the serious leaf springs it got, and unless you needed that kind of payload capacity the average person was much better off with the normal truck’s already primitive ride.

The Hilux Champ is a bit like that. It’s not a small, cheap, single-cab Tacoma for those markets. It’s more like the One Ton. A lot like the One Ton, actually, with a 2,260-pound payload capacity, a cab limited to only two seats, and very few available frills.

Unlike the One Ton, the Hilux Champ is charming. The Thai-market Carryboy RV version is a rolling “take my money” meme.

For some use cases, even the stripped-down Hilux Champ isn’t minimalist enough. The IMV Origin is a thought experiment of sorts about whether some developing markets might benefit from producing bodies locally on a Toyota-supplied rolling chassis. If that has some echoes of CKD (complete knock-down) kits for you, it should.

CKDs used to be very common. Small, simple factories would be set up in markets with protective tariffs or other rules about local assembly. Automakers would ship over a crate (sometimes literally) with all the pieces the local factory would need to bolt it together. That includes the body, chassis (if separate), driveline, and interior. The CKD factories created jobs locally, provided revenue for the manufacturer, and brought perhaps higher quality finished cars into the market than any native manufacturer could muster. Variations existed, with some components locally supplied, too.

The IMV Origin is a bit different. There’s more missing than is present. It’s essentially a platform suspended above the working bits like the driveline and fluids tanks. The cab is a suggestion, a rough sketch, basically a tubular hoop arcing above a glorified beach chaise. It has the charisma of an Aliens era running prop. Remember, the APC M577 prop was based on a Hunslet aircraft towing tug, so the utility-vehicle-to-movie analogy really holds up.

The most charming aspect of the design is arguably the little dual headlight pod attached to the steering column, which is also the dashboard and the closest thing the IMV Origin has to a grille. It’s as if the Ruckus scooter, itself a modern cult classic and the basis for some exceptionally creative modifications, rolled into some green ooze and mutated into a offworld cargo buggy.

The idea, if this were to result in a production vehicle, is that Toyota supplies the chassis that has everything needed to drive. If needed, it could operate just as it is, a little flatbed thing. There’s precedent for this.