I’m facing a dilemma. Right now, my first car — a 1992 Jeep Cherokee XJ — sits in the woods in northern Michigan, abandoned, alone, and scared. Its owner ditched it and moved west to California, where he bought a bunch of rust-free cars and built a new family. Now it doesn’t know what to do, because it worries nobody can appreciate it like its former owner did, and that it is doomed to the scrapyard.
Right now I’m trying to decide what to do about my first car, a 1992 Jeep Cherokee XJ.
That’s this thing standing next to 19 year-old me:
Look at how nice that Jeep looked 15 years ago, and look at how fit I was! Alas, times have changed. I’m balder and fatter, and my Jeep’s rocker panels are filled with holes, the bottoms of the doors are rusty, and the flat suspension has been lifted.
I have to say: That was the best $1,400 I ever spent, even if the Jeep did have 218,000 miles on it at the time. Learning to fix this Jeep got my foot into the door at Cummins diesel company, which got my foot into the door at Chrysler, which got my foot into the door at Jalopnik, which led me here.
I owe this Jeep a lot, and the nostalgia of it all does tend to get to me.
It’s hard not to wax poetic about all those times I drove with my brother in the Shenandoah National Forest back in college:
And all those times I used that XJ to really hone my off-road skills.
That Jeep was the vehicle that took me to Detroit for the first time; I recall my mom road-tripping with me from Virginia. The Jeep had no AC, so we rolled with the windows down. Mom actually enjoyed that.
Then, when I got a full-time job after my Chrysler internship, that Jeep really took me to adulthood, and showed me the city of my dreams — Motor City.
I eventually lifted the Jeep:
What an absolute tank a stock XJ with a 3″ lift and 31s is:
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Anyway, Michigan winters and the stupidity of my youth did a bit of a number on my XJ. I hydrolocked the original engine, then I overheated the new engine and filled the rear axle with water during the off-road trip shown above (Drummond Island, the Mudfest of Michigan), toasting the bearings.
So now, after 30,000 miles and 15 years, here sits my first car — a 1992 Jeep Cherokee XJ — on a reader’s property in northern Michigan; it hasn’t moved in two years:
I want an XJ in my life, as XJs are what started it all for me, but I’m facing a dilemma.
Do I rescue my OG XJ and try to bring it back to life, fixing its body, restoring it, and eventually going through the considerable effort of a manual transmission swap, since I have no interest in driving an old auto Jeep? Or do I just pick up the two-door five-speed XJ below, which needs floorboards, carpeting, steering column trim, and a little bit of seat and rocker love, but otherwise seems great?
The reality is that finding an already-clean five-speed is a $10,000 affair, and I’m not about that. So that two-door above is tempting, though my original has my heart.
See, this is the trouble with first cars. There’s only one, and nostalgia’s powerful pull makes getting rid of it difficult, even when maybe that’s the most logical move. And so maybe the move is to just embrace that, and to get my OG XJ back and turn it into the ultimate.
All Images: Author
I am sentimental by my basic nature, but when it comes to cars, isn’t the point to move forward?
Every now and then I search to see if any of my old vehicle models is for sale, but I never have pulled the trigger, because I want to experience and learn a new (to me) car. I could see maybe getting one as a toy, but I don’t have time for weekend projects right now, and I would be.missing out on another vehicle I “always wanted.”
So, ask yourself: will restoring this car bring you joy? Or pain? Because doing it right won’t be cheap.
I think you answered the question when you left it in Michigan.
This has been on my mind a lot too. I bought my first car not even a year ago, and this question has already come up. I got it for cheap, it’s a kind of special car, and most importantly I love it. Yet, I’m almost entirely sure it won’t pass the inspection coming up, and it’s currently dying of a thousand cuts.
The only way forward would be a complete frame off restoration, but that’s such a big project, I can’t start it now. I can limp it along for some time, but if it gets failed because of rust, the body basically needs to come off, and while there, I could take out the engine and fix the main seal leak, and then whats holding me back from stripping off the body, fixing the hole in the floorboards, and getting it repainted? I have already let a much nicer car go, because I want to stick with this one. But is it worth it?
If you can bring your XJ back in Cali, keep it instead of buying another one.
You know its problems while the new one is still a stranger with potentially bad surprises in for you.
You are a sentimental, and there is a single car on earth you made those memories in. Keep the OG.
That sentimentalism will give you the motivation to work on this special XJ, and and n’y have to tell you how important motivation is for car projects.
Little caveat though: make it sonthat Jeep is your ONLY project besides your kid. You have little free time, you can’t devide it between multiple project vehicles.
I am the wrong person to ask.
While my first car (’75 El Camino with 396 swap) was such an utter pile I never actually drove it before it was sold, searching for another eventually lead to my second car, a ’72 Olds Delta convertible. That one, which I was able to drive, essentially occupies the “first car” space in my head, and I’m happy to still have it 22 years later.
Hell, I still have my third car as well, an automatic Iron Duke Fiero that hasn’t moved since 2008. Clearly I’m insane. But also I’m single and have to space for it.
In your last fleet analysis, I advocated for keeping one big project. To that end:
The i3 isn’t a project.
The K1500 isn’t a project (currently), and it’s well suited for doing truck things.
The J10 is a big project, and isn’t as well suited as the K1500. Let this one go.
The YJ is (I believe) no longer a project, plus it’s your wedding Jeep.
The Mustang may have had a small fire, but I don’t think it’s a big project.
Skipping the Voyager. It’s not currently a project, and maybe you, Elise and Delmar (not their real names) will spend enough time in Europe to make keeping that worthwhile.
Which leaves the Ultimate Overlander. A big project designed for a trip that has little chance of happening now.
Clearly, I’m a sentimental fool if I’ve hung on to broken 2M4 for 17 years. The siren call of the first car is strong. But also your XJ is halfway across the country, never mind the two door. Assuming the Virginia plates are accurate, that’s all the way across. The Ultimate Overlander is already there.
I don’t know the answer, and I’ve spent too long typing this, so I’ll reiterate: one big project.