The plan was to buy an old Range Rover that would require a few evenings love and attention after which I would be the proud owner a gleaming, reliable beast that would replace my somewhat underpowered Isuzu Trooper.
After much careful consideration and browsing the small ads I found one that looked good. Located near the docks in Glasgow my brother and I darted off to have a look. It was a heap, the engine sounded flat and raspy, it was tatty and it had a substantial amount of rust thrown in for good measure. Obviously not what I was after, probably worth about £600 or £700.
Why I felt it necessary to give the man £1500 and drive it home I may never know, but that's what I did.
I spent the next few months not doing much with it. It visited the V8 specialist a couple of times to have the engine looked at, I had the alloy wheels powder coated, I even managed to put it through an MOT with a small amount of work. Still I was not comfortable using it so it spent most of it's time sitting outside my house feeling sorry for itself.
When the warmer weather arrived in 2002 I started to dismantle bits and pieces on it with the intention of replacing the rusty panels. That's when it all began to go horribly wrong . . .
(click thumbnails for larger images)
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