One of the best thangs for sure 'bout readin' jeep forums is ev'rybody's an expert and ... therefore ... has an expert opinion. Seems lots of them experts claim 40's ain't no good for daily drivers. Or coilovers ain't no good for daily drivers. Or whatever. Well, I ain't no expert at nuthin' ... but I say drive what the heck ya want.
I love drivin' the Turd. And I sure enuf drive 'er ev'ry day I'm home ... or at least I used too (more on that later).
Fantastic for sportin' 'round town runnin' errands. Gotta admit she don't hold much stuff no more tho with the fuel cell and spare in the back. But the million-dollar tailgate and a lil' rope do provide some options. Like when I had to fetch my pressure washer from the repair shop for example ...
Lot more fun to haul campin' gear tho. I've found the North Face expedition bags to be darn-fine products and have had 'em for years. Got me one big black one that's perfect sized for the tent, mattress, sleepin' bag, and pillow. A portable hotel room. And it straps to the rollbar against the spare tire just perfect ...
Throw yourself a cooler fulla beer in the passenger seat and a big ol' package of fresh-made flour tortillas in the center console and your ready to head to the woods.
So why in the world woulda fella camp in the woods thirty minutes from his house?
'Cuz I can.
Enuf said.
And I get to drive 'round all day drinkin' beer and settin' up phenomenal poser shots like this one ...
Gotta say that the heavy weather in the background of that pic come on ahead and bitch-slapped me purdy hard.
But just pointed the bow into the wind, drank my beer, and ate me some tortillas. Rode out the storm with the stereo playin' ... and the heater on. Winds, rain, and hail for an hour or so. Smilin' the whole time and wonderin' what the city folk were doin'.
Skies done cleared up soon and the Wyomin' sunshine dried out me and ev'rythang else quick enuf. Monday was a great day.
Tuesday weren't so good.
Woke up with the sunrise and packed up my meager campin' gear. Was at the top of the divide so was actu'ly closer to Laramie than Cheyenne at that point. Figured I'd ease on down the mountain into Laramie for fuel and breakfast.
'Bout half way down, the Turd started goin' ape****. Horn blastin', wipers goin' back and forth, washer fluid sprayin' out. Pulled over off the highway and shut 'er down and pulled the key outta the ignition. And that didn't stop nuthin'. Popped the hood and yanked the connectors off the horn to shut it up. Was gonna pull the fuse for the wipers but the TIPM sounded like duelin' telegraph operators so I didn't mess with it. Closed the hood and started it back up and drove on. Ran outta wiper fluid soon enuf but the wipers kept on a goin'. Pulled on into town and into a gas station ... wipers still goin'. And the local Johnny Law pulled up behind me. Asked if'n I knew I was puttin' on a light show. So I looked at the sexy tail-end of the Turd and sure 'nuf ... it was a disco show with all the LED's blinkin' like a crazy. I showed 'im the key in my hand and tried to explain I currently seemed to have lil' control over my vehicle. He gave me a verbal warnin' that it weren't appropriate to be drivin' a rig in such condition. I agreed ... and asked 'im where I could get a decent breakfast 'fore I headed back to Cheyenne. He directed me a few blocks to a café. It was located right off I-80 and when I pulled into the parkin' lot, a state Johnny Law pulled in right behind me. Here we go again. Yes sir ... I am aware of the disco light show on my tail-end 'cuz a the local po-po just told me 'bout it. Yes sir ... I have been warned it ain't appropriate to be drivin' a vehicle in such a condition. He reinforced the concept by givin' me a written warnin' and encouraged me to get it home. As I walked towards the restaurant door, he asked how long it was gonna be puttin' on the show. Told 'im I didn't have a friggin' clue.
By the time I ate my French toast, sausage, eggs, and hash browns ... the Turd had come to it's senses and was sittin' there all innocent like. Like a dog looks at ya after it done crapped all over the new carpet.
But she fired right up and drove on home without issue. Parked the thang in my garage and unloaded all my belongin's from the entire vehicle. Hopped in my big-ass truck and drove right to TNT Customs.
Bob ... we got us a problem.
I'll be darned if'n I'm gonna spend a single plug nickel on the stupid JK electronics. Nossir.
Soon as Bob gets another openin' for a long-term project, she's goin' back under the knife. Rip ev'ry friggin' wire outta 'er. Set up the big stroker with a stand-alone brain and wire up the rest of the rig like a street rod.
And mize well swap out the seats and build the custom cage while he's got 'er.
To be continued ...
Someday.
