Nobody actually needs a 1985 Jeep CJ-7.

Nobody NEEDS a 1985 Jeep CJ-7.

But then again, one needs to define need.

Does anyone need a tank? Does anyone need a tractor? Does anyone need a steam-punk mechanical goat with all the aerodynamic svelteness of a refrigerator box with steel thicker than Texas Toast and big, fat tires that could still be roving our sad, little wasted planet when the only other things left are Keith Richards and cockroaches?

Well, of course, you need a 1985 Jeep CJ-7.

Someone has to keep the oil changed till Keith Richards needs something to drive the wastelands in search of electricity a thousand years from now.

If you’ve ever driven one of these beasts, you’ll understand. 

You sit up high in a stylish bucket seat with a real seatbelt, a flat windshield that you can fold down and a roll bar, I mean “sport bar” behind your head. That’s it. Just you flying through space on a dark grey tank/tractor/goat. 

Will you cross the great wastelands of the Apocalypse or run to HEB for espresso beans? You could do both with this thing. And you’d look pretty damned stylish either way.

There is a bikini top to keep the Texas sun from roasting you like said espresso beans. There is AC on the beast, but who knows if it works, and really, who the hell cares? Nobody drives something like this expecting to keep their makeup from running on a hot day. You’ve got The Great Winds of Freedom caressing every inch of you on every drive. Embrace the heat. Embrace the cold. Embrace the wind. It’s a motorcycle that doesn’t tip over (well, ok, it can tip over but you really have to work it) and you can carry a brave passenger or two and a giant ice chest for adult beverages and dead animals brought back from the hunt.

The thing about this Jeep is that nobody builds stuff like this anymore. Want to take your angst out from the unfair miseries of the world by punching a dent in your own vehicle? Plan on an ER visit. Punch this thing, and your hand loses. Punch that new Lamborghini and you’ll be donating a kidney to fix it. Punch your zillion-dollar Range Rover, and it’ll curl up in a fetal position and cry. 

Punch this thing and it’ll laugh and snarl, in a Jeepy kinda accent “that all you got?”

The thing that makes THIS jeep even better all the new, modern goodies. To say this is a “restomod” is wrong. Mostly because I hate the word.

But this has The Immortal Straight Six from a Jeep Cherokee. It’s got great brakes, transmission, 5 speed stick and a mountain of other upgrades that you don’t find on a CJ. I hate to say it’s a “modern” vehicle, but it really kinda is. You get all the visceral CJ fun with actual brakes and an engine that doesn’t spit its initials in oil at every stoplight.

It's a bit of the best of both worlds, really.

Has it ever crashed? Of course, it’s crashed. Nobody knows really what happened, but there is a Carfax report of some sort of vehicular altercation back in the nineties. We can only assume the other guy ended up in a crumpled heap and was cleaned up with a broom. The CJ snarled again in that Jeepy kinda accent, “is that all y’all got?” 

Let’s face it, you need this Jeep. Even though you’ve probably never realized you need a Jeep CJ-7, you need one. Not only will you instantly look like the coolest  cat in town, you  will, in fact, BE the coolest cat in town.

So how do you possess this wonderful machine for your very own…

It will be on Bring A Trailer soon, along with exhaustingly stilted paragraph after paragraph of descriptions of all the magical goodies that make it special. And it’s an auction, so nobody knows what it’ll sell for in the end, but since you NEED this thing, the price doesn’t matter. One can’t define fulfilling a lifelong need with mere dollars. You’ll also know that you’re simply a caretaker till Keith Richards finds it while looking for guitar strings in the ruins that was once Austin, Texas, and fires it up to drive his cockroach buddies far and wide for all eternity.