Cars And Track Staff
Like many enthusiasts, I have a daily ritual. I scan the local car listings, filtering strictly for the 80s and 90s metal that Radwood has made us all so nostalgic for.
When friends ask where I look, the answer is “everywhere.” Tools like SearchTempest and Swoopa are fantastic for aggregating “shitboxes” across the web, but like any true addict, I prefer the purest hit. While we can all agree Craigslist is a shell of its former self, it still holds a specific value.
I’ve developed a theory: Facebook Marketplace and Craigslist serve two very different demographics. The younger crowd prefers the instant gratification of Facebook Marketplace. But the older, more “distinguished” sellers? They avoid the social media noise and stick to what they know: Craigslist.
The Chase was on Craigslist when I spotted an unusually clean 1995 Mitsubishi Montero. The photos were blurry, but the lines were straight. The catch? It was over 100 miles down I-95. For those familiar with the DC area, know that any drive on I-95 can take anywhere from two hours to infinity. With the holidays approaching, I hesitated. The listing disappeared. I bemoaned my cruel fate—not because I needed a fourth car, but because it was cool.
Three weeks later, miracle of miracles, it popped back up.
I called immediately. The seller was a professional auctioneer who had snagged the truck from a job, had his fun, and was ready to move on. A previous buyer had flaked (hence the repost). He sounded honest—someone who actually respected machinery.
** The Negotiation (With the Wife)** Now came the hard part: The Spouse Approval Factor. My wife was still stinging from our last project, an amazing 1987 first-gen 4Runner. I had flipped it for a “profit” (ignoring the hundreds of hours of sweat equity, of course). She hated the flip and was still mourning the 4Runner.
I managed to get her to grudgingly agree to a road trip. I secretly hit the bank for $5,000 cash and we headed south.
The Prize The directions led us deep into the country. We passed broken-down trailers and rusted dreams, and I started to get nervous. But around the final bend, the scenery shifted. We pulled up to a beautiful home with a driveway full of eclectic, mostly American classics. And there sat the Montero.
It was immaculate.
I hate buying from dealers because you lose the history. I also subscribe to the Car Talk philosophy: Don’t buy from someone who knows nothing (they skipped maintenance), and don’t buy from someone who knows too much (they’re hiding something). This seller was in the sweet spot.
He produced a stack of receipts. It turned out the car had been owned by one woman, Mabel, since new. Her husband, Frank, had bought her this white LS with the plush grey interior back in ’95. The maintenance was religious, transitioning from a Mitsubishi dealer to a Lincoln dealer as the years went on.
The Verdict A test drive revealed a ride as smooth as a La-Z-Boy. Everything worked. I handed over the cash.
I drove Mabel’s Montero for over two years, including an epic trek to Radwood Philly. It needed nothing but minor maintenance. Eventually, I listed it on Bring A Trailer, where it sold to a skier in Texas who planned to use it for runs to the Rockies.
I’m sure that Montero is still lumbering up a mountain somewhere, and I like to think Mabel is smiling down on it in approval. Do you have a Marketplace/Craigslist story to share? Reach out to us!
;
