Since the Garbage Montero ran and the guy I was buying it from had been driving it around for the last month, I figured I’d just drive it the hour and a half to two-hour drive home. No big deal right?
First off, it had gigantic “racing slick” mud tires. How these larger but bald mud tires helped the previous owner go wheeling, I will never know. The important thing is you could not drive these on the highway. That Saturday night after looking at the truck I went back to Craigslist to search for some used wheels and tires. Luckily the Montero uses the very common 6 x 5.5 or 6 x 139.7 if you go metric. Which means wheels from Toyotas, Nissans and GM trucks will fit. I searched and searched and finally gave up and went to bed. Sunday morning rolls around and I’m still looking. I stumble on a post by a guy south of Boston selling Montero sport wheels with used tires off a truck he junked for $300. Awesome, I text him, he calls me back and an hour later around 10 am. The seller tells me, “Yeah they’re pretty decent tires, actually I’ve got all five off the truck” I said “Alright then for $300 you’ve got yourself a deal”. The Garbage Montero is missing the spare so this works out great for later on. I call up Brad again and get him to meet me at my house. The weather has changed from a beautiful day on Saturday to a complete downpour on Sunday, but since it’s Sunday traffic in the Boston area is light. We shoot down pick up all four wheels in my
girlfriend’s (now fiance's) Legacy Outback (The official car of New England). Turns out the seller owns a junkyard, score. Brad and I make a good connection for junk parts.
Two days later I get back in touch with the seller of the Garbage Montero and let him know Brad and I will be up to get the truck by 8pm. We pack everything you’d need for a wheel swap, jack, tire iron, electric impact, torque wrench, factory lug nuts, gloves and some extra tools for other stuff that could come up. I also grab a gas can after I nearly forget it, something tells me this truck will be on “E”. Luckily (sort of) it’s nearly the height of summer in New England which means daylight till at least 8:30 pm. Unluckily it’s nearly the height of summer in New England which means night time temps in the 80s with 70% humidity.
We show up, I hand the seller the remaining amount of cash, he’s cleaned most, but not all the trash out, we grab every extra part he has, skid plates especially. I jack the truck up and like a two-man pit crew Brad and I start swapping tires. It is unbearably humid and light is quickly disappearing, we are in the woods, there are mosquitos and whiskey tango campground patrons gathering to watch the spectacle of these two city boys change tires like it’s a caution flag with ten laps to go at New Hampshire Motor Speedway. It’s actually really impressive, we must have had those swapped in under 15 mins and the old wheels in the truck. I’m pouring sweat at this point my blood sugar is dropping since we skipped dinner, I just want to get the fuck out of there. The seller hands me the keys, I go to fire up the truck, it won’t start.
“Oh sometimes you have to jiggle the shifter,” said the seller, Great I think to myself, maybe don’t shut this thing off on the way home. This was a bad idea, a dumb idea, hell we’ll get to the main road and if it quits, I’ll have it towed I guess, I thought to myself. NowI flip on the lights, Brad does a quick check of them all to make sure they work, they do and we’re ready to go. I look at the fuel gauge, it’s on “E”. We grab the gas can and dump a few gallons in, still doesn’t register much on the gauge, fuck it, let’s go, I’ll baby it to the rest stop on the highway 15-20mins away.
A couple pumps on the brake pedal, the truck has good pressure. The brake light is on, I check the e-brake, it’s down, must be low on fluid. I put the shifter into drive anyway. Brad follows closely from behind. We creep down the dirt road away from the camp, this is the first time I’ve driven it. It shifts lazily from first to 2? The overdrive button is in the off position, odd, but the seller only drove around town he said. The t/case knocks on the floor over bumps, but so far it stops, turns and goes OK.
I ease the Montero onto the highway on ramp. I slowly wind it up to 65, it tracks decently straight, remember I’m running used junkyard wheels and tires well past their prime and who knows when the last alignment was done. Lane changes suck without that driver’s side mirror, but since it’s summertime and I have the window down I can do a full Ace Ventura out the window blind spot check. This truck is disgusting inside, it smells, everything is sticky with nicotine. I feel disgusting, I’m covered in dried sweat, my back feels itchy against the seat. It’s night time now and the windshield is filthy and hard to see out of. I accelerate a little harder and the auto-tragic kicks down into what feels like neutral, the revs scream out of control as the engine races to redline and with the exhaust leak it sounds like it wants to explode. I quickly let off and ease back into the gas pedal, the transmission finds a gear and I keep moving at a steady 65-70 mph. Meanwhile the fuel gauge continues to hold steady just above “E”.
After what felt like an hour, but was really probably 20 mins, we pulled into the rest stop, these are the really nice new ones NH just built on I93 outside of Concord. They’ve got the works, a restaurant, state liquor store, convenience store and gas station. I immediately pull to the pump and put $25 in the tank. I notice while I’m filing it I can see lighting in the distance, shit thunderstorms? I’d better check the wipers. They of course, do not work, well I hope it doesn’t rain. Meanwhile, Brad walked over to ask how it ran while I pumped the gas.
I said, “It runs decent, but the transmission seems lazy and I can’t see out the windshield”.
Brad picked up the windshield squeegee thing from the side of the gas pump and wiped down the windshield.
“Oh shit,” Brad says, “It’s the inside that’s really dirty” and wipes the inside with the squeegee, it makes a huge difference.
I move the truck to the general parking area and we walk inside for a caffeinated drink and a quick something to eat, both of us are starving. It’s late and the only thing open is the convenience store, I buy gas station roast beef sandwiches on onion rolls for each of us and some iced teas. We munch on the sandwiches in the parking lot and talk about the Montero and snap a few pictures for Instagram. We get lucky, no rain that night and the rest of the drive is slow but uneventful. Maybe I really did find an undervalued gem?
P6230049 by
Andrew Pascarella, on Flickr
