I thought there was some nice symmetry to posting the first official update on my (our) 55 close to the day (one year later) that the first post on this pig was originally written. Tom FJ55 started the thread “New to FJ55s” documenting the journey of rescuing and resurrecting this 1972 from a 15+ year exile to a field in Hailey, Idaho. I began following along with the story and was immediately drawn to Tom’s no nonsense approach and humor he displayed while experiencing the joy and frustrations involved with bringing this creature back to life and drivability. Like many others, I would log in every day to check the progress, see the hurdles faced, and read the help and advice posted by all of you. The hope, I had, to see him succeed was palpable; as it is with all of your “projects”. These are all classic stories involving the forces of good (people striving to save a race of automobiles) against the forces of evil (rust) whilst battling insurmountable odds (obsolete parts and naysayers who just don’t understand) and triumphing (with the occasional setback) by banding together with brothers and sisters in arms (The Knights of the Iron Pig Preservation Society). All Hail the Iron Pig! …Yet I digress
I read because I enjoyed the stories and because I had the niggling feeling that I was destined to one day carry the mantel of 55 parenthood. I’ve made inquiries over the years to various opportunities I’ve seen advertised, but invariably for one reason or another, they were never right. When I saw that Tom was considering selling this vehicle that I watched being transformed from a mouse-infested orphan to a respectable, productive citizen of the Landcruiser world; I knew I had to initiate adoption proceedings. The fact that I knew the vehicle’s story; that it was located in Idaho (I live in Boise); and that I believed in the philosophy under which it was being rehabilitated was just too much to ignore.
Well, I’ve had it for a few months now and finally feel worthy of participating in the story telling. My guiding principle for this vehicle will be to re-achieve mechanical proficiency (something short of excellence…we can’t be setting the bar too high now!). Keep it stock (where it makes sense) Upgrade when money allows (I really want a set of IPF headlights). I can live with the purple (for a while anyway), I can live with pre-war gas mileage numbers (for a while anyway). And spend enough time on it to move issues forward (while still maintaining a semblance of domestic tranquility). I’ve been amazed at how quickly the rig communicates the issues that need attention. Death wobbles above 50 MPH? Hmmm….maybe I ought to look at the front end. Can’t see the speedo at night? Hmmm…maybe I should replace that light bulb. The driver’s door snaps and pops like a bowl of rice krispies every time I open it? Hmmm…I should look at those hinges. I hear voices…and they are my 40 year old pig child talking to me. I look forward to sharing with you all.
I read because I enjoyed the stories and because I had the niggling feeling that I was destined to one day carry the mantel of 55 parenthood. I’ve made inquiries over the years to various opportunities I’ve seen advertised, but invariably for one reason or another, they were never right. When I saw that Tom was considering selling this vehicle that I watched being transformed from a mouse-infested orphan to a respectable, productive citizen of the Landcruiser world; I knew I had to initiate adoption proceedings. The fact that I knew the vehicle’s story; that it was located in Idaho (I live in Boise); and that I believed in the philosophy under which it was being rehabilitated was just too much to ignore.
Well, I’ve had it for a few months now and finally feel worthy of participating in the story telling. My guiding principle for this vehicle will be to re-achieve mechanical proficiency (something short of excellence…we can’t be setting the bar too high now!). Keep it stock (where it makes sense) Upgrade when money allows (I really want a set of IPF headlights). I can live with the purple (for a while anyway), I can live with pre-war gas mileage numbers (for a while anyway). And spend enough time on it to move issues forward (while still maintaining a semblance of domestic tranquility). I’ve been amazed at how quickly the rig communicates the issues that need attention. Death wobbles above 50 MPH? Hmmm….maybe I ought to look at the front end. Can’t see the speedo at night? Hmmm…maybe I should replace that light bulb. The driver’s door snaps and pops like a bowl of rice krispies every time I open it? Hmmm…I should look at those hinges. I hear voices…and they are my 40 year old pig child talking to me. I look forward to sharing with you all.
. Now back to the door…
