I’ve just finished wrenching my arse off on my 1954 Willys CJ-3B, and I have to admit: I’m tired. This project snowballed so much worse than I ever expected, and now that it’s done and I have a beautifully-driving flatfender Jeep, I’m naturally going to sell it. It’s a classic case of “The cobbler’s children have no shoes.”
When I bought my 1954 Willys CJ-3B for $5,900, I was thrilled. Here was a rock-solid body, an engine that appeared to have been rebuilt at some point, and honestly very few obvious flaws.
It was a steal. Or so I thought.
Fast forward a few months, and as I’m rushing to prep the Willys for my wedding I realize the vehicle is made of bondo. It’s really more of a sculpture than an automobile at this point.
Is this a big deal? To many, it’s not. As long as the Jeep looks and drives well, who cares if there’s a bit of putty on the sheetmetal? It turns out: I do.
For some reason, this bondo bothered me so much that I gave up on the CJ-3B as the wedding car, and instead chose my 1991 Jeep Wrangler YJ, the 4.0-powered five-speed beast that we all know and love from Jurassic Park.
Anyway, I still had to fix the Jeep, because $5,900 was only a white-hot deal if I got the Jeep running and driving. A broken Jeep — even one as complete and decent at this one — doesn’t command much scratch around LA. Still, I wasn’t worried; it’s an old Willys. I can fix these in my sleep!
View this post on Instagram
Unfortunately, this nice Jeep ended up in much worse shape than it first appeared. The fuel tank was toast, so I had to replace that:
The rust in that tank meant the fuel pump and carburetor were filled with rust, so I had to replace the former and rebuild the latter. This took time.
Then, when I looked into why the brakes weren’t working, I found that the brake master cylinder had rusted out. This, like rust in the fuel system, had downstream effects. Because this was a safety issue, the rust in the brake system meant I had to replace all the brake lines, hoses, and wheel cylinders. This was a pain in my ass the likes of which I hope to not have to deal with again for at least a few years.
Then I noticed the rubber shift boots were torn, the brake pedal had far too much play, the shocks were rusty, and before you knew it I was multiple months in on this Jeep, laying on my back with brake fluid all over me, wondering how the hell this project had snowballed.
View this post on Instagram
Then I realized: This is a pattern. This has happened so many times it’s hard to count. Take my 1991 Jeep Cherokee XJ; this was the holy grail of Jeep XJs, but I bought it with a bad front axle and fender. So what did I do? I let the project languish until I decided I had too many cars and I needed to sell it.
But since I’m too cheap to sell a car for less just because it doesn’t work, I set out to fix the Jeep, and by the time I let it go, I’d spent hundreds of hours fixing it until it was the Jeep I had wanted in the first place!
The same thing happened with my 1993 Jeep Grand Cherokee ZJ five-speed. It needed new shocks, a new shift tower for the transmission, a bunch of other repairs that I cannot remember. A bit overwhelmed with my huge collection and knowing that this Jeep was worth quite a bit in good shape, I decided to sell the Jeep, which was an absolute creampuff:
For reference, the Jeep I kept was the exact same model, except it looked like, well — see below. My logic was: Why sell the rough one? Who’s going to buy it? 
This same pattern occurred with the 1987 Jeep Grand Wagoneer I bought for a song. It languished until I had to sell it, then — in part because the city of Troy was trying to fine me for having broken cars in my yard — I got off my arse and got the AMC 360 running quite nicely. Then I sold the Jeep for a good price:
This same thing happened with my cheap Chevy Tracker, which was in great shape once I sold it:
It’s become clear that the best cars I’ve owned are the ones I had just finished prepping for a sale because I’m too damn cheap to sell a car for thousands less just because it needs a few hours of cheap repairs. I simply cannot stand it.
The result is: The cars I sell are in amazing shape and the cars I own are always basket cases, at least up until I decided to sell them and then fix them up for the next owner.
None of it makes sense, but it’s completely in line with that old saying about cobblers children having crappy shoes. I sell the good stuff off because it’s worth money, and I keep the basket cases in rough shape until I decided to sell them and realize nobody wants to buy a basket case.
It’s a stubborn habit I hope to break someday. Because while it ends up with me having a few bills in my pocket, it also ends up with me spending loads of hours on cars I don’t even get to enjoy, while I drive my junkers everyday.
That Willys is a tempting start to my next chapter… it runs incredibly well and it does look quite good even with the Bondo…
Top graphic image: David Tracy; IIT
How about you go all in, do the damn body work and have a car you enjoy for a change?
Friend of mine that’s a metal worker often emphasizes how under rated and tough real bondo actually is.
’tis always thus with old vehicles: when it’s running good it’s time to sell it.
David, you used to write about the repairs as they were happening. I could relive prior repairs of my own while reading of trials and tribulations of your repairs. Now, unless I have missed several articles, we get just a summary – “I fixed things”. I understand you have greater responsibilities now, but I miss the blow by blow articles.
This has to be a Guinness Book record for the most browser memory intensive Craigslist ad ever uploaded.
Well done, DT 😉
My wife is doing the exact same thing with houses. Be forewarned.
Please David as a longtime reader who has been following you since there was a transmission in your dishwasher…
Please keep a good rebuild, sell all (ok most) of your junkers, and ENJOY YOUR LIFE. You can editor-in-chief while cheering on the next generation of rust junkies rebuilding a B2000 they found in a creekbed.
I’ll be doing something like that. More soon!
We did that with our previous house: completed a list of projects so we could sell and move. Not doing that again. 😐
But like, what if you kept and enjoyed this one? Or even just enjoy it for a few months and then sell it? Live a little, man!
I’m surprised you don’t take it on a 1 way trip to Moab for EJS, wheel with me and then sell it down there. I’d make sure you have a ride back to hop on a plane in GJ.
What’ll you be driving?
How about the rule of three? No more than three cars at a time. Go on a one-in-one-out type thing. Buy something new, but something has to go first.
And I bet ENHRN might like the rule my wife imposed on me. If a project has made no significant progress in a year, it loses its project status and becomes junk and its gotta go. Keeps projects moving along or moving out.
^ This is where I’m at. We have 3 cars. 2 dailys and one toy. I’m going to be allowed another toy once we build a garage, but then it becomes 1 in 1 out. No more than 4 cars at the house with soon to be 3 drivers.
Giving up a pre-76 car in California…
They’re the only ones exempt from smug check
Smug check sounds about right. Unless its a Porsche, then you’re a connoisseur!
Perhaps a more complete inspection before purchasing? How many of these issues would be seen with just a cursery look see?
Imagine having such vision and never being blinded by the light.
To see everything is to miss something. (-;
Good luck with the sale. Someone’s going to get a nice Jeep.
Wait! Make it a part of the Autopian Membership plan. For $12,000.00 you get the Jeep and everything else all other members get plus a private parking spot at the L.A. office.