My Range Rover

What are you good at? For me it is fixing machines and avoiding responsibility. Ergo, I have an old car, which requires regular work, but does not require an obligation to some financial institution whose prime motivation is to club baby seals into profits, or whatever it is banks do to make money. I get to fix things (old car) while avoiding responsibility (car loan.) Since I enjoy every aspect of my car, I see no reason to get a new one. A new car would come with a warranty, which would require me to give my car to somebody else to fix. And a loan, which would require me to keep a job that pays real money. I see no benefit to a new car, especially since new cars are uniformly boring. Oh, sure, a new GTI is economical and sporty, an Outback is comfortable, and the new Corvette is one of the most competent cars I have ever experienced, but nothing out there is alluring enough to separate dollars from my hands. I would rather use some of that money to enjoy the instant gratification of good coffee or video games or a kayak. And no Batista is going to call me in the middle of dinner to inform me that I have neglected to pay for my coffee this month.

Since my attention is not focused on the latest widget from BMW, I am free to consider alternative forms of transportation. Don’t get me wrong, I am still considering an automobile. I’m not talking here about something stupid like a bicycle or the city bus. I don’t mean stupid. I mean slow, stinky, difficult, inconvenient, tedious, uncomfortable, demeaning, or dangerous. By alternative I mean something that is unique, fun, and relatively inexpensive. Something that is familiar, yet uncommon. A car that is practical, but does not sacrifice style for utility. A car with adequate power, yet is simple, durable, and economical. A car that is fun to drive at normal speeds. A car that can be trusted and is reliable to a fault.

Things like Mercedes Benz jump to mind, but they are not relatively inexpensive. Or unique. Or simple, durable, or fun. Ditto for BMW, Porsche, Land Rover, Jaguar, Audi, VW, or even Mini. Toyota, Nissan, Honda, Ford, GM, and Subaru have some decent offerings, but nothing quite makes the grade. Any new car, be it a two and a half ton Maserati Levante, or a Toyota GT86, is somewhat sterile. Safety and environmental regulations have homogenized the market. New cars are a rip-off, anyway. Considering a used car? Nothing really works out. Many cars have some of the bits, but no single automobile represents the whole of the car I am talking about.

As it happens, the perfect car must be built. Again, my values align perfectly with this task. I am good at fixing machines. It will also end up costing much less than the average price of a new car, which is about $34,000. Spending less money allows me to avoid responsibility. So, it just comes down to choosing the car, then making it what I want.

Since the car will be significantly modified from its original specification anyway, it could be almost anything. Weak engines can be replaced with strong engines.  If the old wheezy engine is attached to the wheels with rubber bands, I can use a real transmission, axles, and drive shafts made in Saginaw, Mi by a UAW machinist. If the electronics were never affixed to any source of electricity, I can supplant that crap with real wires firmly coupled to something at both ends. I could choose a horrible car, because I can correct all of its misgivings. If I am not scared of weak engines, rubber band axles, and electronics that do not work, then the classic Range Rover must be my choice.

Why the worst car in the world? Because it is cool. Land Rover introduced the Range Rover in 1970. Way back then everybody who spoke a romance language made cars the same. They were all crap, not just the Range Rover. Eventually most automakers built better products, because the buying public figured out that a Mustang II was a terrible car when compared to a Toyota Celica. Unfortunately, British Leyland was embroiled in a labor dispute that crippled the ability of the giant automaker to produce cars that could compete with Toyota, Datsun, and Honda. Despite the fact that the design of Jaguar and Land Rover were among the best in the world, the cars were deliberately built poorly by workers who felt they were being treated unfairly by the corporation. Due to this failure of management, we are left with the legacy of beautiful cars that are a nightmare to own.

Luckily, an old Range Rover is a relatively simple car. In fact, anything built before the early 00's is a simple car. I am under no illusions, it would take quite a bit of work to make a Range Rover reliable. What I am talking about is called “resto-mod” where a classic car is updated with modern mechanicals and electronics, but the basic look and character of the vehicle is unchanged. This sort of thing has its roots in the Hot Rod movement of the 1950’s where Ford Model T bodies surrounded Chevrolet small block drivetrains. But it didn't end there, the resto-mod movement is alive and well today.  People pay crazy money for Icon Land Cruisers, Singer Porsches and Eagle Jaguars. Any motorcycle that does not look like an insect is a factory built resto-mod. Even Mercedes Benz, through its AMG division, has created perhaps the worlds greatest resto-mod: the G63 6X6.

So, the idea has merit, but if I want a car that looks like a classic, it would be easier to just buy a new Wrangler. It looks a little like an old Jeep. Or that matter I could buy a new Camaro, Mini, Fiat 500, or VW Beetle. But retro styled vehicles make me a little uncomfortable. The Austin Mini, for instance, looked the way it did because its innovative design required it to look that way. Ditto for the Fiat 500, the Beetle, and the Jeep. Modern cars that attempt to recreate the look of a classic tend to fall short. Modern retro styled cars simply point out that most of the good ideas have already been used. And they are relatively expensive compared to the Range Rover I intend to build. And they come with a warranty. And other people that have them might want to talk to me about them. No thanks.

Another possible problem with a modified Range Rover is the chance that significant modifications could change the character of the car to the point it is no longer desirable as a classic. Part of the fun of driving an old car is the simple, mechanical feel of the thing. But I do not intend to make a drift car from a tractor. Replacing weak engines with strong engines (and transmissions, axles, springs, brakes…) improves the driving experience. Correcting defective wiring allows the windows to go up and down, as intended. Adding air conditioning that actually conditions the air can only be seen as a good thing. After all, Icon, Singer, and Eagle significantly change their cars, and they are generally considered the best possible version of a Land Cruiser, 911, or E Type, respectively.

So, the only obstacle in my mind is the investment required to build this machine. Old Range Rovers are basically worthless. We are talking $5,000 for a good one. It would take an enormous amount of work, not to mention about $30,000 to build this Range Rover. And in the end you have a $5,000 Range Rover with a bunch of really nice parts in it. I do not imagine I would ever recover my investment. After all, I am not Icon, Singer, or Eagle. And truth be told, even those builders only sell a few significantly modified cars. Most of the income at Icon is derived from the sales of t-shirts and hats, not $222,000 Land Cruisers. In addition, I tend to keep cars a very long time. I would probably never sell my Range Rover, so I would never lose any money. I would prefer to have a car I really like for a long time than to have several cars I don’t really care about over the same period.

The best thing about this train of thought is that it works for almost any classic. Don't want a Range Rover? Then do a Jeep Cherokee Chief, or Datsun 240Z, or a Buick Riviera, or a classic T Bird, or a BMW 633CSi, or even a Volvo Amazon. The GM sourced drivetrain I intend to use will fit into almost anything, car or truck. So the hunt is on. I need a crappy old Range Rover, most of a Silverado 2500, the bottom half of a Jeep Rubicon, about 65% of the back room at my local NAPA store, the name of a good upholstery guy, a friend at a junk yard in England, and about 12 months uninterrupted free time. Then I could have a really neat car.