I Found Out My Car Is Made Out Of Bondo And Now I’m Bummed

Today I decided to do a bit of tinkering on my 1954 Willys CJ-3B, a vehicle I got for what I thought was a smokin’ hot price ($5,900), and that I had planned to use as part of my upcoming wedding (in less than two months). But today I noticed a few bubbles in the paint, and — keen to prevent rust from spreading too far — I hit those bubbles with a flathead screwdriver. What that revealed was devastating.

To be clear, I’m using “devastating” quite loosely here, because this qualifies squarely as a First World Problem, but you wrenchers know what I mean. To learn that what they thought was a rock-solid vehicle is actually someone’s pottery project — more of a mobile sculpture than an actual automobile — is rough.

It all started when I noticed some paint bubbling on the driver’s side footrest. As an automotive rust expert, I know all too well that ignoring such a thing only leads to more trouble, so I picked at the bubble:

And I picked a little more:

And some more:

Oh boy what is all this?!

Oh no!

And now I have this big chunk missing from my front fender:

What’s worse is that I saw another bubble in the rear, on the top of one of the wheel wells:

I picked a bit, and it got pretty big:

And there was more in the corner: Notice how that big chunk on the bottom left of this image revealed rust below:

Speaking of rust, you see the painted rear valence panel to the left and right of this pintle hitch?

Let’s look at it from behind:

Look at those huge rust holes, just filled with Bondo!

Oh no.

 

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So I grabbed a magnet and did what I should have done in the seller’s driveway, and you can see the results above. In some areas — particularly over pretty much the entire rear quarter panels —the Bondo is almost an inch thick.

Oddly, the insides of these panels — which I inspected prior to purchase — look OK, so I expected the outsides of the thin sheetmetal to also be fine. At most, I’d have expected a skim coat to fix any minor imperfections. And yet, this thing is more of a Jeep-shaped sculpture than it is a Jeep itself.

And I know, some may say “Don’t worry about it,” but it’s impossible. My friend Brandon bought a WWII Jeep that had been slathered in Bondo, and he, too, could not resist picking away at it, ultimately deciding to replace the entire body due to the horrible shape of the metal below. There’s just something about a Bondo-covered car that, at least to me, really detracts from the vehicle. It feels, to me, like a big fraud.

It’s not rational, I know. The Jeep still looks good, and it will likely drive totally fine. But it’s a psychological thing; I want my Jeep to be made of steel like the Jeep gods intended.

Now it’s time to decide what to do next. Ignoring the issue isn’t going to happen, so should I start repairing panels? I could buy new side panels, front panels, and a rear valence for about $1,250 total:

Or should I buy a whole body tub for double that ($2,500 shipped) and then just the whole Jeep… The vehicle would no longer be totally original, and the whole shebang would end up costing me at least $6000 after paint, but it’d also be in mint condition, with an extremely low likelihood of rusting in the future here in California.

Or do I just let the Willys go to someone who couldn’t care less about the bondo, and just buy a nice CJ-3B for $12,000 to save me some time, since I’m getting married soon?

Or do I just say goodbye to CJ-3Bs in general and roll with the trusty YJ as my wedding mobile? It’s maybe not as elegant, per se, but it sure does shine:

Anyway, this was a rookie move on my part. I should have brought a magnet to the initial inspection. California may be the land that rust forgot, but Willys Jeeps are an exception.

D’oh!

Images of repair panels/tub: Kaiser Willys