The Father of All 6x6s Is This 60s Soviet Doomsday Snowmobile Developed in Two Months

We are talking about Soviet Russia, so deadlines cannot be overlooked or delayed (otherwise, the term deadline suddenly catches an entirely new meaning). Then again, this is Soviet Russia, so the official request documents got lost for an entire year amid copious amounts of other project files.

Finally, in October 1962, the communist party officials sent an inquiry about the stage of the project's development. After a panic-stricken search, the ZIL designers found the papers on the factory's chief designer's desk. They had been lying there the entire time.

Immediately, frantic socialist work began to deliver the vehicle in under two months. I mean, build a fully working automobile, not just sketch a design. Remember, until that moment, the project had absolutely nothing to show.

What they did have, however, was an ace up their sleeve - the lead designer was a woman. Quite eccentric for the early 60s USSR, but A.D. Andreeva turned out to be providential. In the group photo in the gallery, she is standing right beneath the headlights of her work.

Being the Soviet engineering masterminds, they did what they always did best: improvise, adapt, and overcome all adversities. In a strike of pure automotive genius, the engineers took an already functional prototype – an earlier project by the same team – and cut out the new design.

Take that literally. The team went to an 8x8 ZIL-135 truck, ripped off one of the inner axles, and magically finished the design of a 6x6 all-terrain. Remember the deadline for the new vehicle was January 1, 1963? Well, the ZIL factory delivered the order on the – take a wild guess! That's right, December 31, 1962. (I guess you could say they were a year ahead of schedule.)

Jokes aside, the experimental project they came up with was truly astounding. In line with the best practices of Soviet carmaking fashion, the transporter got the lovely name ZIL E-167. "E" stands for "experimental." A 6x6 all-wheel-drive, 12-ton, 854 ci (14-liter) gasoline V8 twin-engine, fiberglass-bodied, fiberglass-wheeled, five-ton payload all-mobile.

Alright, that is quite a handful, so let's get over the specs one by one. It had to be a six-by-six all-wheel-drive all-terrain, all-season, all-around working-class-superiority defending vehicle.

It had to be under twelve tons. The bodywork was fiberglass to keep its weight on the slim side (not a poor trick from the ever-surprisingly-ingenuous Soviet engineering). On top of that, the wheels were also fiberglass due to maximum weight limitations.

Since we mentioned the wheels, a helpful feature for the USSR's extreme driving conditions came from the Central Tire Inflation System. An impressive 33-inch (850 mm) ground clearance made quick work of ravines, trenches, logs, pits, ditches, holes, boulders, steep slopes, or three-foot-deep snow (one meter). The videos at the end of this story reveal the herculean labors the E-167 took on.

The belly of the monster ZIL was snow-proofed armor-plated. Clean sheets of metal ran the entire length of the undercarriage. The overlander would gracefully sleigh above the snow rather than bulldoze it in lumps that would slow it down to a halt.

So, On January 1, 1963, the ogre went straight to the proving grounds. Over the next two years, it covered 12,500 miles (some 20,000 km.) of rough uncharted terrains, from the profoundly frozen Siberian Artic to the boglands around Moscow. It only got irremediably stuck once (it was towed out of three-foot muddy ravines by a tracked tractor.)

If carmaking history has taught us anything, no automobile test is complete without a drag race. The mighty ZIL snowmobile was not exempted - the test team pitted it against three other heavy vehicles. See the race at the 07:45 mark of the second video.

Although it might sound propagandistic, the capabilities of the ZIL E-167 were beyond ignorable. Its double-engine solution was powerful enough to help the massive machine overcome obstacles. The combined output was 360 HP, over the torque of 688 lb-ft (932 Nm).

Two engines mean two torque converters, two automatic hydromechanical gearboxes, and two sets of final drives for each row of wheels on the right and left sides. The engine on the right side would drive the right wheels, and the other did the same on the opposite side. The overengineered solution would prove to be the design's most robust and weakest point. You can admire the schematics in the photo gallery.

Fuel consumption – near as makes no difference – was an average 2.35 mpg! That is 1 liter of gasoline for each kilometer. Thanks to its six fuel tanks totaling 238 gallons (900 liters), the calculated range hit an impressive 500 miles (900 km) on roads. But, since it worked where there were no roads, the actual figure was closer to 350 miles (some 600 km).

Thirsty, admittedly, but not without proper reason – as you can see in the videos. The stubborn Soviet tackled mud, snow, rivers, forests, and steep hills. It effortlessly hauled a tracked tractor coupled to a truck, with both hard on the brakes. Allegedly, the two machines weighed in at 14 tons, and the ZIL dragged them through soft sand with no effort (play the first video at the 0:55 mark).

The cinematic documentary also shows the six-wheeler climbing 42-degree ramps and going down 25-degree slopes. Although not seen in this film, the E-167 is said to have forded six-foot (1.8-meter) deep rivers and climbed over boulders over two feet in diameter (60 centimeters).

The front and rear axles had independent torsion-bar suspension on transverse levers and 9.6-inch-stroke dampers (240 mm). The central axle was rigid, mounted to the chassis on welded steel brackets. Two hydraulic boosters powered the steering system, with both front and rear wheels turning simultaneously at opposite angles.

This feature has multiple advantages – a turning radius of "just" 36 feet (12 meters) and reduced resistance when driving in deep mud, sand, or snow. Having the same turning angle meant the front and rear wheels would go on the same track, decreasing the wheels' effort to dig their way through.

The giant ZIL could hit 45 mph (75 kph) on a good road. Its six-foot (1.8 meters) tall tires helped it enormously in seemingly impossible situations. And, despite their looks, the wheels were jaw-dropping lightweight. The fiberglass split rims reduced the wheel's total weight by 2.5 times compared to the standard all-metal ones.

For its massive weight, it was pretty agile and light-footed. Its ground pressure of just 8.5 PSI (0.6 kg/square centimeter) made it ideal for soft, cloggy terrains. Overall, the snowmobile Soviet overlander surpassed all expectations and would have gone into mass production. Ten firm orders were expressed by the Ministry of Oil, with two additional from the Defense Ministry.

However, the gargantuan ZIL had several drawbacks that ultimately axed the project. Firstly, its colossal size – 30 feet long, 10,5 feet wide, and ten feet tall -(9.3x3.1x3 meters, respectively) made it unusable on most public roads. That was crucial in remote industrial regions, where the road network consisted of narrow paths on which the behemoth would barely fit).

Secondly – and ultimately critical – the extensively complicated drive train would not meet the budget standards of the Soviet automotive industry. So the E-167 lived on to be the first – and last - of its kind. For a project that went from sketch to fully-assembled, fully-functional prototype in under two months, the ZIL one-off is a mechanical masterpiece (and the most in-your-face manifestation of engineering megalomania simultaneously.)

There is even an anecdote that runs in the automotive-pride circles of ex-soviet engineers. While it was deployed in the Russian far east, building an oil pipeline, the monster caught the vigil of the CIA. Not knowing what to make of the vast network of wide tracks left behind by the ZIL, the analyst at Langley concluded that a top-secret military test was underway.

Upon spotting the bright red profile of the mean-looking Soviet proletary truck, the intelligence agency hypothesized the possibility that the USSR might use the vehicle for a rapid terrestrial invasion of Alaska by simply driving across the frozen Behring straight. (Quite adequate if we look at the stormtrooper conduct of the machine.)

Laughable sample of Soviet involuntary humor or not, the ZIL E-167 went down in automotive history as being one of the fastest-developed successful prototypes ever. It also went down in neglect and dismissal, despite its undeniable capabilities. It had a rough life, as we can see from the photos, and was once abandoned in a junkyard. However, it was restored and now sits in the State Military Technical Museum in the village of Ivanovskoye.