Not much fun as a passenger in the back of one though. After many trips up a long farm track in the back of them I realise that the designer were evil sadists. The exposed metal ridges are exactly at head height so you smash your head on them as the car hits every pothole.
I had my own lovely arctic'ed 110 (window hot air curtains, etc. ahh what a lovely wagon that was) that I used as a mobile base station before using my motorbike to get into even more inaccessible areas. One exercise I was flagged down by the Regimental Sergeant Major who wanted a lift as his motorbike had broken down, we got his bike on the trailer next to mine and he told me where he wanted to go. I started off on a minor detour along some country roads but he started ranting about it being a bloody off-road vehicle for a reason and that I should take the more direct route in a tone that made it clear it wasn't a suggestion. The main reason I intended to take a detour is that the RSM had a flask cup of coffee he'd just poured himself and I knew the countryside on the route was like corrugated iron with lots of peaks and troughs. He'd annoyed me severely though and obviously didn't know the countryside, he didn't even bother with his seatbelt.
So... I decided to go a wee bit faster than normal over the countryside, bouncy, bouncy, bouncy RSM, he hit his head a few times, good job he had his helmet on, and his leg ended up across the windscreen with his coffee nicely soaked into his chest along with lots of swearing. He knew I'd been a bit of a dick to him but he also knew he was the dick to start with and was generally a reasonable bloke: "let's just leave it at that then shall we Bombardier, why not just drop me off by the REME station there and they'll get me going again"