Now, before I begin my list of car gear we use, I want to make one thing clear: knowledge is the single most valuable piece of equipment you can bring.
When it comes to tackling something like the Canning Stock Route, there’s no shortage of gear lists, shiny gadgets, and “must-haves” that promise to make your trip a success. But when you’re hundreds of kilometres from the nearest help, it’s not just about what you have — it’s about knowing what to do with it, how to work around problems, and how to make good decisions under pressure.
One of the best free resources I’ve found for building that mindset is The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Overlanders course from Overland Workshop. It’s taught by Andrew St Pierre White, and he shares lessons learned over many years and trips.
His first big takeaway? Mission first. Before you think about vehicles, brands, or fancy setups, you figure out exactly what you’re doing, where you’re going, and who’s coming with you. Build everything around that.
It’s common sense that isn’t always common. And the rest of the habits are just as valuable.
The course is free, takes less time than bingeing a Netflix series, and could save you thousands of dollars (and a lot of headaches) down the road.
Knowledge doesn’t weigh a thing, doesn’t rattle loose on corrugations, and it works in any vehicle. It’s the best gear you’ll ever own.
I see a lot of gear talk online. And don’t get me wrong—I love cool (looking) gear as much as the next person. Who doesn’t want to look like they’re about to cross the Simpson just to grab milk?
But as a new Jimny owner, it’s really easy to fall down the rabbit hole of upgrades. So, I figured I’d share my take on what you actually need—vs. what just looks good on Instagram.
If you don’t have or change this, your trip will (very likely) fail.
Tyres – The stock highway tyres are great for school runs and light gravel. But we had sidewall failures doing 25 km/h on medium rocky terrain.
Get something better. We run Toyo RTs in the stock size. Don’t cheap out—your tyres are your lifeline.
Compressor & puncture kit – And learn how to use them before you need them. Watching a YouTube tutorial while your tyre hisses is… stressful.
First aid kit – Not just a box of Band-Aids. Think snakebite kit, trauma bandages, tweezers, and gloves. And again: know how to use it.
PLB (Personal Locator Beacon) – You won’t have reception. This could save your life, especially solo or remote travel.
Shovel – For digging out, digging in, or digging… toilet solutions.
(Traction boards are optional depending on your terrain and your optimism.)
Fire extinguisher - Because a little spark can ruin your whole trip (and your Jimny).
You’ll survive without these—but you may invent some creative new swear words.
Solid phone holder – One that doesn’t eject your navigation app into the footwell after 3 minutes of corrugations.
Rear window wire protectors – Those unsexy little bits of plastic that stop your Jimny’s tailgate wires from fraying and dying. Satisfying, not shiny.
Everything else.
Bullbars, roof racks, fridges, drawer systems, battery setups…
These are great if they solve problems you actually have. Just don’t bolt a small Bunnings to your roof because you think it’s what "real" 4WDs need.
Start simple. Upgrade based on your own trips and actual needs—not what looks cool online. The Jimny is far more capable than it looks—and so are you.
Every accessory adds weight, cost, and complexity. Before installing it, ask:
Do I really need it, or did I just see it on YouTube or Facebook?
Will it solve a problem I actually have, or one someone else had in the Victorian High Country?
Can I carry this gear another way (in a bag, in the trailer) without bolting it on forever?
If in doubt, test it out. The Jimny is better than it looks — and most problems are solved by tyre pressure, patience, or simply picking another line.
Disclaimer for the Mod-Lovers
Before anyone grabs their torque wrench in outrage—this post isn’t a dig at folks who love modding their 4WDs. If you enjoy upgrading, tweaking, and engineering your rig into an outback beast, more power to you (literally!). This is just our approach, based on our goals, our budget, and our belief that less can sometimes be more.
We love seeing well-built trucks and clever setups—we just don’t all need to take the same path to the same destination.
This post reflects our approach to gearing up for remote travel in a Suzuki Jimny. Every trip, driver, and setup is different—so think critically, do your own research, and make choices based on your own needs (and wants), experience, and comfort zone.
Building our Jimny setup wasn’t just about bolting on gear. The real challenge was finding a system that worked for three completely different lives:
Daily run-around — school runs, groceries, normal town driving.
Frequent weekend escapes — fast to pack, fast to unpack.
A few long desert runs each year — where everything needs to be robust, simple, and repeatable.
The solution? A modular packing system.
Instead of having gear scattered everywhere, we built it around the idea that each task lives in its own bag:
Kitchen bag — stove, pots, cutlery, food for a day or two.
Tent + groundsheet bag — shelter sorted in one grab.
Clothing bag — easy to pack depending on the season, destination, and trip length.
Trailer bags — extra food for longer trips, spare parts, and other long-range necessities.
That way, during the week the Jimny is just a normal car. When a trip comes up, we don’t need to strip things out of drawers or shuffle boxes around. We just load the bags we need.
At camp, it’s the same simplicity: want to set up the tent? Grab the tent bag. No digging around in the boot.
Back at home, tweaking the setup is just as easy. Want to change the kitchen kit? Pull out the kitchen bag, update it, done. No need to tip the whole car upside down.
The bonus? Packing days are stress-free. No last-minute dash around the house looking for bits and pieces. Bags live ready to go, so loading the Jimny is basically stacking blocks.
For us, that balance of modularity and simplicity is what makes both daily life and big desert runs possible in such a tiny car.
Note: picture is from one of the first day trips with the car. I’ll update it later with a more recent setup photo.
Getting off the grid is great—until it’s not. No phone reception means no calling for help if something serious happens. That’s where a Personal Locator Beacon (PLB) comes in.
Push one button, and satellites alert AMSA with your location. They send help. Simple as that.
Important: A PLB is only for life-threatening emergencies. Snake bite, serious injury, medical emergency—yes. Flat tyre, broken spring, or running out of chips—no.
Why You Need One
Cheap insurance – $300–350, no subscriptions!
Works anywhere – Doesn’t matter how far from phone towers you are.
Peace of mind – For your family as much as you.
Keep It Handy
A beacon is useless if it’s buried under camping gear. Keep it where everyone in the car knows and can reach quickly—like the glovebox or centre console.
“But I’ll Never Need It…”
That’s what everyone says—until they do. The same people who’ll happily drop $1,200 on a fridge they use once a year will balk at $300 for a beacon that could literally save their life. Priorities, right?
The truth is, most of us will never press that button. And that’s the whole point. You hope it gathers dust at the bottom of your glovebox forever. But when you do need it, you really need it.
A first aid kit is one of those things you hope never leaves the bag, but if it does, you’ll be glad you packed it right.
Build It for You
Off-the-shelf kits are a good start, but make sure to add:
Any prescription meds you need.
Generic painkillers (think headaches, sore muscles).
Extra simple bandages & plasters (kids go through them like stickers).
Allergy tablets if anyone in your crew is prone.
Skills Matter Too
A kit is only as good as the hands using it. A basic first aid course is worth every cent.
Tip: Carry a small, cheap “community” kit alongside your main one. Great for helping others on the track without tearing apart your own carefully packed setup.
One of the easiest bits of gear to overlook — and one of the most important — is a fire extinguisher.
In the outback, things catch fire fast. Spinifex builds up underneath your car, especially around the exhaust and catalytic converter, and those little clumps of dry grass can turn into a campfire before you even smell it. Add 40-degree heat, a bit of wind, and you’ve got a serious problem.
That’s why we carry a proper automotive fire extinguisher mounted within easy reach. Not buried under gear, not tucked behind a seat — right where you can grab it now, not in a minute.
We also carry something a bit unconventional: a pressure spray bottle filled with water. It’s simple, light, and perfect for putting out small grass fires under the car caused by spinifex buildup. When you stop to have a break (or smell something burning) have a look under the car with the sprayer before it becomes a bigger issue.
Nothing fancy. Nothing exotic. Just the basics that actually matter:
Tyre plug kit
Patches — big and small (and a not shown spare inner-tube)
Tyre levers
Spare valves and caps
Simple, lightweight, and proven.
The only thing that’s a bit “Jimny-specific” is the compressor. I bought a tiny battery-powered one off Amazon as a test run. Honestly, I expected it to die immediately — small, cheap, lightweight… usually that’s a recipe for disappointment.
But surprise surprise: it’s been brilliant. Fast enough for Jimny-sized tyres, barely takes up any space, and it has survived every shakedown trip without missing a beat. As much as I want to criticise it… I can’t. It just works.
For the CSR, I am bringing a backup — I’m just undecided whether that should be a simple hand pump or a second one of the same compressor. Redundancy is good. Weight is bad. Still thinking…
The Jimny comes pretty bare-bones in the power department: one 12V cigarette socket in the front, one in the back and a single USB-A port. That’s fine for daily life, but once you start adding radios, drones, and lights… it’s nowhere near enough.
Our fix was simple and cheap:
A cigarette lighter adapter that splits the single socket into three, with two extra USB ports built in. Note; I found out there are nicer ones, but I have no use for that little area so I have not changed it.
On top of that, a little converter that turns one of those into four USB ports up front. Perfect for charging the DJI NEO drone, UHF handhelds, and headtorch batteries while driving.
In the back, we run a dedicated 85W cigarette-to-USB-C charger, which powers the fridge / power pack combo. That way we can recharge the pack when driving and the the fridge keeps running while at camp.
The whole system is modular and keeps everything simple. No hard-wired “overlanding” power systems, just a few cheap adapters that give us enough charging options to keep everything running — without adding weight, cost, or unnecessary complexity.
We also carry a small lithium jump starter pack. Think of it as a backup plan for when your battery decides it’s had enough — in the middle of nowhere, with no other cars around to give you a jump.
These little packs have come a long way. The modern ones are compact, hold their charge for months, and can easily kick over a Jimny or similar small 4WD. They usually double as a USB power bank too, so you can top up a phone or UHF in a pinch.
Why carry one?
Peace of mind: You don’t have to rely on other travellers being nearby.
Solo travel friendly: If you’re exploring on your own, this could be the difference between getting home and spending the night with the dingoes.
Dual purpose: Extra backup power for charging small electronics.
A couple of tips:
Keep it accessible. If your battery is flat, digging through every bag in the back isn’t fun. That little storage box above the jack in the Jimny is perfect.
Test it at home first. Make sure you know how to hook it up before you need it.
Remember it’s an emergency tool. Keep it charged (I top mine up every couple of months).
And no, it’s not an excuse not to look after your main battery.
So sure, you could carry 150kg of batteries and panels. Or you can chuck a jump starter pack in the back and spend the rest of that weight allowance on coffee and snacks.
This little bag lives under my seat and holds the tools and bits I need for day-to-day jobs — things like hitching up the trailer, doing quick checks, and general routine tasks.
The whole point is speed and sanity: I don’t have to dig through the big kit every time I need something simple.
Think of it as the “normal use” bag.
The larger kit is the “something’s gone wrong, time to fix it” bag.
Two bags, two purposes — and far less rummaging.
This is the “when things go wrong” bag. I’ve explained elsewhere how I put it together, but the short version is simple:
Buy a bag.
And every time you use a tool, socket, bit, or gadget while working on the car — add that one to the bag.
Over time it builds itself into a kit full of the things you actually need, not the things you think you might need.
Then throw in a few magic items:
Duct tape
Cable ties
Metal wire
(Basically, the universal problem-solvers)
It’s not fancy, but it’s practical — and built by real-world use, not guesswork.
Inside the repair bag lives a smaller green bag — the “extra magic” stash.
It holds the fix-anything essentials:
Electrical tape
Self-fusing silicone tape (the plumber’s hose-saving wonder)
Super glue
Epoxy
Spare nuts and bolts
A few hose clamps
It’s basically the bag you reach for when you need to patch something together to get moving again. Small, simple, and surprisingly powerful.
For navigation we keep it simple and layered:
Apple/Google Maps to get us to the trailhead or nearest town.
HEMA 4WD app once we’re in the bush — works offline and has a solid map collection.
Paper HEMA maps as a final backup.
We have heard good things about other apps too, but this is just what we have been using.
I know some folks love running Starlink on the move with Google Maps. And sure, that’s shiny and clever. But honestly? To me that’s like taking a brand-new Defender down the CSR: brilliant until a grain of sand sneezes in the wrong sensor and you’re phoning for a helicopter mechanic. I’d rather stick with tools that are simple, dumb, and always work.
If you're planning to tackle the Canning Stock Route, you’ve probably already heard the magic word:
Kunawarritji — a remote community with fuel… sometimes. That means you 'only' need to carry enough fuel for ~1,000 km, not the full 1,850 km.
But here's the catch: Sometimes the pump is down. Sometimes the truck is late.
So we plan for 1,200 km, just in case. In that case we can take a slight detour to Pumu for fuel.
Short answer: Because it doesn’t actually solve our problem.
The long-range tanks for the Jimny are excellent products. They double capacity from 40L to around 80L, they’re well regarded, and I’ve never heard anyone complain about how they perform. If we were doing frequent medium-distance trips, I’d probably fit one without thinking twice.
But here’s the catch:
For the Canning Stock Route, even doubling the tank barely reduces how many jerry cans we need.
With Jasper and the trailer: we’d go from 8 jerries down to 6 (+2 water).
Traveling solo or with no trailer: from 6 down to 4 (+1 or 2 water).
That’s… nice, but it doesn’t really change the weight, the packing, or the hassle.
There are a couple more considerations:
Aftermarket vs OEM reliability
Aftermarket tanks are generally excellent, but statistically they’re more likely to fail than factory components. It is not a major fear — but it is worth noting.
The price
At around AUD $2,500, it’s a serious investment for something that, for us, doesn’t reduce the jerry-can burden in any meaningful way.
Weight
The extra weight vs the factory tank is 19kg, not a dealbreaker, but it is the weight of one full fuel Jerry.
It’s a great upgrade — just not for this trip.
If we were building the Jimny for lots of shorter adventures? I’d install one tomorrow.
But for the CSR, the maths simply doesn’t add up.
Now that we’re seriously considering a Plan B (no trailer, everything inside the Jimny), a long-range tank would open one very appealing door: it frees just enough space to bring the fridge… which means bringing bacon.
But here’s the reality:
The price still hurts — $2,500 is a huge chunk of our entire trip budget.
It adds 19kg, which doesn’t sound like much until you remember we’re already fighting for every kilo.
And if we did free that space, I’d be very tempted to fill it with 9kg of fridge + 2–3kg of bacon.
So even with Plan B, a long-range tank remains a “nice to have,” not a “makes-the-CSR-possible” upgrade.
If anything changes during testing, I’ll update this — but right now, the maths (and the mission) still say: jerry cans win.
During our 4,700 km test trip through South Australia, we averaged 9.8 L/100 km, with the worst figure being 15.2 L/100 km on a very technical, steep track. That was with the Jimny fully loaded — just as it will be on the Canning Stock Route (CSR).
We don’t know exactly what the CSR conditions will be like, but it’s safe to assume fuel consumption will fall somewhere between 15 L/100 km and 20 L/100 km, depending on weight, terrain, and how soft the sand gets.
At 15 L/100 km
1,200 km × 15 L = 180 L
That gives roughly a 200 km buffer if Kunawarritji is dry or out of order.
At 20 L/100 km
1,200 km × 20 L = 240 L
Still manageable — without turning the Jimny into a mobile fuel depot.
We’re planning to carry around 200 L of fuel, depending on our final weight and terrain tests. That should give us enough range to comfortably reach Kunawarritji (about 1,000 km) plus a solid 200 km safety buffer — assuming we’re not running at 20 L/100 km the entire way. If we do, we’ll still make it… just without much left in the tank.
We’re travelling north to south, which makes things both easier and harder:
Easier: The first stretch is “only” just over 800 km from Billiluna to Kunawarritji.
Harder: If we miscalculate near the end (closer to Wiluna), there’s no real escape route — that’s remote-remoteness.
The northern section is also rougher and slower, so we’ll base our fuel usage estimates on that part. Just need to remember to bring enough jerry cans to make it all work!
Don't cut it too close. If you’re ever going to carry an extra 20L “just in case,” this is the place to do it.
Don't assume Kunawarritji has fuel. Call ahead, plan as if it doesn't, and if it does—hooray!
Remember fuel weight. 200L = ~160–180 kg. It adds up fast, so store it low and balanced.
On the Canning Stock Route, some dunes are tall enough to make a Jimny feel like it’s staring up at Mount Everest. The trouble is, you never know what’s on the other side — could be another 4WD charging up.
That’s where the UHF radio earns its keep. The safest approach? Call out when you’re on top of each dune — “Vehicle southbound, between Well 41 and 42” — so your signal travels further. The next person along does the same. It’s like a bush telegraph, powered by static and good intentions.
We’re keeping it simple with handheld 5W UHF radios:
Weight – Every kilo counts in a Jimny.
Simplicity – No wiring, no drilling, no fuss.
Flexibility – Hop out and use them for spotting or guiding through tricky sections.
It’s about being polite, staying safe, and avoiding the kind of “accidental meeting” that leaves both parties explaining to their insurance company why their bull bars now qualify as modern art.
I’ve even delegated dune-calling to my 10-year-old — he takes it more seriously than I do. If it were up to me, every hilltop call would probably be: “Does this dune make my Jimny look small?”
Picture shows channel 80, from my information I believe the CSR uses channel 40
Since we’ve got a little spare weight in the Jimny (emphasis on little), we decided to bring one small luxury: a console fridge that we run as a freezer. Is it strictly necessary? Nope. But Jasper loves his bacon in the morning — and this way, I can keep a stash of frozen bacon ready for the whole trip.
It also lets us do our “ice bottle trick.” We use two square 2L fruit juice bottles filled with water. One lives in the freezer, becoming a solid ice brick. The other chills in the esky, keeping food cool. When the one in the esky starts to melt, we swap them. Simple, no-mess cold storage.
The fridge runs off a 24Ah power pack, which I charge via USB-C in the back while we drive. I chose this pack because it’s small, light, budget-friendly, and — most importantly — has those cigarette-lighter style ports the fridge needs.
Full disclosure: we’re on the move most of the day, so power isn’t an issue. The battery easily lasts through the night… but we’ve only tested this in winter. On hot nights, you’ll probably chew through more power. Your mileage (and bacon supply) may vary.