If you read Cappa's "Impulse Deuce" story elsewhere in this issue (page 48), you probably got most of your Cappa/Hazel long-distance, nonessential vehicular purchase fix, so I won't go too heavily into why or how I drove 2,200 miles to buy a derelict '68 M-715.
As usual, I didn't need another Jeep, I didn't have room for another Jeep, and I didn't know what I was gonna do with another Jeep. I only knew the $800 asking price was under a grand, the rig had paperwork, and it was a Jeep. That alone was enough to activate the portion of my brain that overrides all reason. Before you could say "stupid idea" I had borrowed an '05 Power Wagon from the DaimlerChrysler press fleet, hooked up my trailer, snatched Cappa from his plastic above-ground swimmin' hole, and was speeding 1,100 miles to Boise, Idaho.
Once again, the empty wallet...
Once again, the empty wallet rears its ugly head. I'm sure I'm not the only person who feels a bit shaky when the vehicle count gets below 10, am I?
Once parked at Cappa's house,...
Once parked at Cappa's house, we gave the truck a quick once over. The driveshafts, hundreds of bolts and parts, an old World War II PTO winch, and other assorted trinkets were in the bed. The interior was pretty disassembled, but all of the parts were found scattered somewhere on the floor.
Other than forgetting to bring a map and getting slightly lost somewhere in northern Nevada, the trip was pretty uneventful. We throttled back to Southern California to Cappa's dirt farm where we unloaded the five-quarter and parted ways. Whether through pity or just to give the neighborhood rats a nice place to sleep, Cappa graciously stored my new hulk for a full year at his house, during which time I only laid eyes on it two or three times. I repaid his kind generosity with barbs about his hair gel and awkwardness with the opposite sex.
Then, almost a year to the day later as we parked Cappa's new deuce purchase next my M-715, I came up with the brilliant plan of dragging my crapbox home and getting it ready to drive from Southern California to Ouray, Colorado, in a month. What followed was the ultimate thrash fest with Murphy's Law rearing its ugly head at every corner. In the end, the truck didn't work and I was so physically and mentally washed out I came dangerously close to quitting my job to become a monk somewhere in the Himalayas. So read on to learn more about a vehicle I've since dubbed The Evil Truck.
Since the seller had yanked...
Since the seller had yanked the old NP200 T-case and tossed it, Jp Associate Editor Pete Trasborg donated the old NP200 from his M-715, while Jp Publisher Jeff Nasi donated the T-case crossmembers from his M-715. I bought the passenger T-case mount from a member on www.m715zone.com, while another member, Mark Everhart, donated the driver-side mount. Apparently, it takes a village to resurrect one of these trucks.
The leaky manual-steering...
The leaky manual-steering box is stock, but the scary home-hacked lift shackles aren't. Thankfully, the swapped-in Chevy V-8 engine mounts, T98-to-Chevy bellhousing adapter, and exhaust were usable.
A mere 28 days before the...
A mere 28 days before the date of departure for Ouray, Colorado (see "The Trip That Never Was," page 78), I got to spinning wrenches. First on the to-do list was rebuilding the factory driveshafts with new NAPA heavy-duty U-joints. In all, the buildup consumed about 25 trips and $1,500 at the local NAPA.