U Is For: 1965 Mercedes-Benz Unimog vs 1993 Utilimaster Aeromate

Good morning! We’re getting closer to the end of the alphabet, and the pickings are a little slim from here on out. Tomorrow will be easy, but the rest won’t. Today, I managed to find one make that starts with U, and one model name. They go together because they’re both big, boxy things with furniture inside.

On Friday, we looked at two clean inline-six sports cars, and the purple Triumph TR6 won handily. From the sounds of it, a lot of you were put off the Toyota Supra because it’s an automatic. I had hoped to find a manual Supra, but every one I found had been modified in some way. This one was a better match to the Triumph, because of its originality and low mileage, despite its transmission.

Honestly, I don’t mind the Supra with an automatic. Maybe I’m going soft in my old age, but cars like the Supra, along with the Corvette and the Camaro/Firebird, just seem suited to automatics. Mash your foot down when you want to go, don’t hassle with shifting when you want to relax. It just makes sense to me. But there’s no way I’m choosing any Toyota over a TR6 in the best color ever.

All right. Let’s look at two vehicles with big rooms in the back, each outfitted for a specific purpose. One is an old mobile military communications center, and the other is a veteran of the kebabs and burritos brigade.

1965 Mercedes-Benz Unimog 404 – $24,000

Engine/drivetrain: 2.2 liter overhead cam inline 6, six-speed manual, 4WD

Location: Denver, CO

Odometer reading: 19,000 miles

Operational status: Runs and drives great

The Unimog needs no introduction to fans of off-roaders. For everyone else, here’s the gist: it’s a go-anywhere, do-anything 4×4 vehicle with low gearing, portal axles, and a power takeoff. Think of it as a tractor that can (just barely) do highway speeds. This version, the 404, was a common military vehicle for the German army, and that’s where this one came from.

The Unimog came in a bunch of different configurations with a bunch of different engines over the years. This one has a 2.2 liter gasoline inline six, powering both axles through a six-speed manual gearbox with two reverse gears. Top speed isn’t even sixty miles an hour, but put it in low gear and it will practically climb a tree. This one has had a bunch of mechanical work done, and it runs great, but they didn’t mess with anything else. It was some sort of mobile communications center, it looks like. There’s a bunch of old radio gear and a desk in the back.

It’s a military vehicle, so don’t expect much in the way of luxury. Vinyl seats and steel floors are the order of the day. This is a “Cabrio” version, with a soft top and a windshield that can fold down. It’s in really good shape inside the cab, which tracks with its low mileage.

The seller says this truck is “ready for its next adventure,” which I assume means a camper conversion at some point. Unless, of course, the next owner has a thing for ’60s German radio equipment.

1993 Utilimaster Aeromate – $16,800

Engine/drivetrain: 3.3 liter overhead valve V6, three-speed automatic, FWD

Location: somewhere in Illinois

Odometer reading: 241,000 miles

Operational status: Runs and drives

There are vehicles we interact with all the time and hardly notice, even us car folks. They’re just part of the scenery, doing their job, thanklessly and invisibly. Often, you don’t notice them because you’re focused on other things at the moment you see them, like, for instance, lunch. We’ve all eaten at food trucks, but unless it’s one of those twee Citroen vans or a VW bus or something, have you ever actually noticed what kind of truck it was? Of course not. Because the pulled pork sliders and tater tots in the plastic clamshell container are far more important.

This old food truck is a Utilimaster Aeromate, the pride of Bristol, Indiana. It uses a Chrysler minivan drivetrain and suspension, in this case a 3.3 liter V6 and an automatic transmission. I’m pretty sure it’s a three-speed Torqueflite, but don’t quote me on that. It’s been around the block a few times – 241,000 times, actually. My guess is that it had another life before becoming a food truck, something that required more driving around.

It’s a mess inside; clearly after this truck closed up shop no one bothered to clean up. There’s stuff in the sink, boxes on the floor, and I think I even see a bag of burger buns in that wire rack. There’s a fridge, and a toaster oven, but whatever grill or oven did most of the cooking appears to have been removed. The seller refers to it as “ready to customize,” which in this case means gut it and start over, I’m afraid. Though, since it already has a sink, I suppose you could turn this one into a camper too.

I can’t read the menu on the side, so I can’t tell you what sort of food was once served out of this truck, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. If my years in Portland taught me anything, it’s that you can serve almost anything out of a food truck. So let’s have a little fun in the comments: tell me what you’re cooking in this thing, once it’s all newly-outfitted.

So yeah, food truck versus army truck. Hey, U is a tough letter; I did my best. We’ll get to some less weird and less expensive things tomorrow. In the meantime, you’ve got two boxes full of old crap that need to be cleaned out. Which project are you tackling?