“I flew 20 hours to Australia for this?!” I thought to myself as I looked out into a paddock housing two old Chrysler Valiant utes overgrown with brush thanks to extreme rainfall in the Dubbo, New South Wales part of the Australian bush. I expected the cars — the main $900 Kangaroo-hunting ute and the parts ute — to be in bad shape based on the photos my host and Autopian reader, Laurence, had sent me. But seeing them in the flesh was downright shocking. At that moment, a realization set in: Building a fully functional ute from these carcasses in just four weeks — a ute that would pass Australian inspection and then road trip to the world’s biggest ute show — was going to ruin me.
The notion has so far rung true. It’s 4:30 in the morning right now, and I’m basically a grease-and-RTV-covered zombie trying to write some kind of coherent article because I owe you all an update, and also our video team made gold out of my crappy cellphone clips and I need to show you all (see above). But damn am I tired, so hopefully this article doesn’t suck too badly. My typical schedule goes like this: Wake up at 9 A.M. Wrench until 10 PM. Try to help run this website until 3 A.M. Do it all over — everyday. And while six hours of sleep may sound fine, it’s the 13 hours of wrenching followed by five hours of work that has aged me approximately 20 years in just three weeks. At least now all those people who joke on Reddit and in the YouTube comments that I look both 15 and 45 can buzz off.
If you’ve been following Project Cactus (named for the Australian slang term that means “broken”), or if you’ve watched the clip above, you’ll know that I’ve flown from Detroit to Sydney, and taken a seven-hour train ride inland to the small city of Dubbo. There, I met with Laurence, a reader whom I’d befriended on Instagram, and who had purchased a $900 Chrysler Valiant kangaroo-hunting ute on my behalf. An agricultural insurance salesman who frequently stumbles across all sorts of cool old machines, he also managed to snag a parts car for me for a song. The two vehicles have sat in his mom’s paddock for many months now, awaiting a zany American car-website editor to arrive to attempt to fix them up and drive something to the Deni Ute Muster — the wild, ute-themed Burning Man of Australia.
Well, I’ve arrived with all of my tools intact. Even my can of PB Blaster made it through customs, as did my gas-charged Monroe shocks and my ridiculously heavy brake master cylinder (these parts were way cheaper to buy in the U.S.). Tired as hell from all the traveling, and my right arm aching from carrying that heavy tool bag, I stood in the paddock and looked at the most daunting sight I’d ever seen:
Laurence told me he thinks the main car is cactus — so much so that it’s not worth saving. His recommendation? To use the parts ute as the primary project vehicle. Hearing this was disheartening, because as bad as the ‘roo-shooting ute is, it at least looks like a car. It has an interior, it has a face, it has a tailgate. The idea of using the car on the left as my main car just seems absurd given my tight timeline:
I wasn’t able to see the underside of the parts car, since it wasn’t on jack stands like the ‘roo-shooting ute was (though even that car was hard to assess in the high brush). I’ll be getting the two machines up on a lift later, at which point I’ll have to decide which vehicle to try to fix. I’d love your input on that. Until then, here’s a look at all the issues I saw that first night seeing these two vehicles in the flesh. Let’s start with the ‘roo ute.
‘Roo-Shooting Ute
The white (and brown, let’s be honest) ute appears to be mostly complete, but it’s very clearly been a “paddock basher” for much of its life. The panels are dented, there’s plenty of rust, and the engine – well, I’m getting ahead of myself.
The Body Is There, But It’s Bad
“MG Landscapes” reads the lettering on the side of the white ute, but it’s clear that its days holding down a steady job are far, far behind it. Its last occupation was to be absolutely beaten on somewhere in the Australian bush — jumped, bumped, and probably revved to the sky. We’ll talk about the first and last on that list in a second; for now, let’s focus on “bumped.”
The photo above doesn’t quite communicate just how bad the dents are in the driver’s-side B-pillar, tailgate, and door, but trust me: They’re hard knocks. The B-pillar dent in particular is one that I worry probably tweaked the entire body. Would an inspector ever allow this vehicle to be registered? I had concerns, and so did Laurence.
The left side of the ute was similarly dented.
And for some reason, the door wouldn’t open.
The hood had broken off its hinge, and was strapped to a clearly-replaced-but-still-awful brown fender, which had a rust hole at its base and dents everywhere. The front bumper had been bashed in rather violently (as will be made clear in the next update article), the grille was mangled, and this wasn’t even the worst of it.
The taillight lenses (and frankly, ever single plastic lens on the vehicle) are cracked, and the bed (or “tray,” as they call it here) is filled with shotgun shells from the vehicle’s ute-hunting days. Towards the cab, things become rather perforated:
Worse, the rust in the tray has breached the cabin, with the rear bulkhead basically rotted-out at its base, and in need of a rather complicated weld-job:
Further welds would be needed to the floors; they were a bit hard to see from above, but if you look at the ute’s (horrid) interior, you can spot some holes where one’s feet should sit:
The Engine Is Gone
The Slant-Six engine is one of America’s greatest of all time. It’s a bulletproof mill that I’ve written about ad nauseam, since I daily-drove a 1965 Plymouth Valiant all through the last Michigan winter. Still, even if it can stop a bullet, the mighty Leaning Tower of Power can’t handle being bounced off the rev limiter while doing “skids” in a paddock in the Australian bush. That’s what I assume happened to this motor, though it seems based on the above photo of the dipstick that, even if the motor hadn’t been abused, the moisture that made it into the engine would still have killed it. Seriously, how can a dipstick — a piece of steel meant to be bathed in oil — disintegrate to this degree?:
While we’re in the engine bay, allow me to point out a radiator that has been completely ruined by who knows what; look at the missing tubes and fins:
Also, this brake master cylinder has turned into dust!:
The Car Has Clearly Been Jumped
Since I’d just landed in Australia a few days prior, and since Americans seem to think the continent is just a wild, pest-filled land where everything wants to kill you, I was a bit hesitant to crawl under the vehicle in the high grass, but I didn’t want to seem weak to Laurence, so I slid girded my loins and took a look at the floors. As you can see in the image above, there are giant rust holes in the floorboards. Here are a few more towards the back of the car:
Some of the floor looks okay, and certainly the vehicle looks better than my old Valiant underneath. But just look at how concave the floor panels are; this thing has been jumped — I have no doubt about it:
All of this rust, and many of the structural compromises, would have to be fixed to get through Australia’s inspection. This concerned me.
The Parts Ute
I’m not going to go into too much detail on the shape of the parts car, because it’s just a shell. It stopped being a car when it lost its engine, panels, transmission, drivetrain, windshield, doors, tailgate, front bumper, grille, radiator — everything. It’s scrap metal.
But let’s just see what we have to work with, here:
Okay, so there’s at least one fender and one door:
And hey, there’s the second door in the bed:
The interior is, well — there isn’t one. The floorboards have some holes, and the tunnel has been banged, welded, and cut to fit some kind of aftermarket transmission:
The windshield is gone, but at least the flange isn’t rusted out. So there’s that?:
Here’s another look at some of the floor rust — there are no holes on the driver’s side, though the rust is scaley:
The worst rust is in the bed, though. You can see where someone mounted an aftermarket fuel tank; just between it and the can of beer, you can see a giant hole:
Anyway, that was my first night in Dubbo. I learned that my project car is rusted out and dented, its engine is completely trashed (and so is its transmission; Laurence told me water poured out when he removed the driveshaft), and the interior looks worse than 90 percent of interiors I’ve seen at junkyards. And the parts car is just a shell. How the heck I was going to get something rust-free and structurally sound enough to pass inspection, and also running and driving well enough to road-trip to the Deni Ute Muster, I had no clue. But I stopped thinking about it, and headed to the pub to have a classic Australian pub feed: a chicken Schnitty:
Should’ve brought me with. I’d be happy hunting down and moving all the venomous shit away while you worked on it. Also, JFC. Good luck.
I admire you very much, David. I’m wondering if a quote from W.C. Fields might be helpful? “If at first you don’t succeed, try once more and then give up. No point being a damn fool about the whole thing.” Please know, if you get something running I’ll be the first to sing your praises.
Oh boy DT. I think you’ve finally met your match. One of these is supposed to be registered and driving by the end of September? You do realize it’s already September 19th? Which I think actually makes it actually the 20th in Australia. You may be stuffed here my friend.
Years ago there was a guy (and his cat) who used to do drive-outs with old VW buses. Some of them buried deep in forests, requiring trees to come down just to get them out of the woods. But this guy didn’t tow them out. He packed a spare engine and supplies, camped out by the Bus, worked his ass off, and drove the damn thing out of the woods and on public roads to his destination. I wish I could find those posts on TheSamba as I think you would enjoy them immensely. I always wondered what happened to that guy.
It would be easier to list what is salvageable on these cars, rather than what is wrong with them. For starters, you have no engine or transmission. What parts are actually present and in a functional or at least repairable condition? I’m not seeing very many. Not enough to make even half a car. There’s not enough to work with, here.
I’ll be curious to see how you get out of this one. Under the circumstances, I think your only option is to cheat.
start a go fund me and fix this one up
https://www.gumtree.com.au/s-ad/maroochydore/cars-vans-utes/1967-chrysler-valiant-ve-wayfarer-ute-read-the-add-/1298052217
At this point a go fund me for something a little more salvageable makes sense. I would certainly kick in some coin.
I don’t know how much those Valiants should go for but 8k seems kinda high even if in AUD. I think we could raise $4k AUD if David sells it afterwards for charity.
Oh that “add” is great reading.
Right?
I’d go look at it just to meet the author in person
That looks like a ’67 US Dart front sheet metal and bumper.
The tail lights look like maybe ’68 Barracuda pieces.
If you were going to do that maybe include a complete southern US 2-door Valiant, a Sawzall and a MIG welder.
I guess it is out of the question unless you have super secret government air freight connections. (-;
I do hold out a ray of hope for the black ute. I’m not sure how likely an inspection/road worthy conclusion is to this adventure, I do hope for the best there, but a drivable one certainly seems possible. If thats acheivable is there a trailer available to get it to the ute muster?
Anything is possible with enough time, but bloody hell those things are shot. I think the path of least resistance here is to buy a 3rd ute
I’ve seen worse brought back to live.
Over the course of 4 years.
Starting with the “parts” car you can slowly swap over components and repair as you go. The stripping down is already done for you. Not the worst idea.
Even if the utes don’t work out, at least you’ll have firsthand experienced the glory that is a casual schnitty! For the bed (tray) graphics alone, the parts car damn well better make it out of the field!
jfc my dude I love following all your improbable projects, but like, there’s a special degree of self-hatred you’d need to embrace to even attempt to get something out of these utes, and I’m honestly a little worried for you, man. If you’re really hell-bent on fixing up a ute for the grand event, then like some of the others have said, pleease get something in better condition and use the time you’d have spent on these rust heaps to enjoy more of your time Australia.
As a lover of Vice Grip Garage, I’ve seen some truly trashed hulks turned into running iron – but I feel like even Derek Bieri would scratch his head and walk away from this mess. To paraphrase the Catholics: “Rust be with you, my Rust I give to you.”
I see somebody in a stark white environment babbling about firing orders, Blue Devils and pentagrams in the future when not heavily medicated
You are already an automotive legend, IMHO. If you pull this off, you will become a top 10 in automotive history. Which history is yet to be determined.
There is not enough “good lucks”, but here is one more, good luck.
David, as you grow older and, hopefully wiser, you may find that you can cut your losses quicker. Before they kill you. What you are supposed to have here are 2 utes, that you are supposed to make one out of.
What you do NOT have are 2 utes to make one out of. You have a massive pile of hopeless garbage, that Talus himself could not bash into a drivable anything. Before you break yourself on the wheel of hubris, admit that even you can’t beat these into shape. Junk them, and buy one that at least runs.
Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. Live to fight another day.
So much this. Not even DT can get water from those stones, and drive “it” safely on any public road.
Awesome to see The Chats get proper mention in here David. Some good punk rock coming out of Australia!
Next time on David’s Australian Adventures: “David ships Valiant to Dubbo”
So you’ve had the Schnitty and a meat pie, but have you had a proper big Aussie burger yet?
Hell yeah I have. The one I ate was huge. And delicious.
Is scrap value down under so high up that $900 for that thing isn’t completely bonkers?
The quick answer- no.Not even close.
I was thinking it may contain some rare parts but that looks unlikely now too.
Holy hell David, how you can end up with a running car is a task I am eager to see…
Well, I may not be able to. I’m gonna give it everything I’ve got, but keep your expectations low!
How many more Valiants can you buy to make this work?
The Ute of Traceus
Because I think you need at least 1 or 2 more.
A slant-6 doesn’t have a rev limiter to bounce off of. The pistons and valves do the bouncing. Those are the two most destroyed vehicles I have ever seen.
That explains it.
So when are you buying a third car, as you currently have two Australian rust piles/yard art, and a net 0.0 chance of repairing that engine.
Next time on David’s Australian Adventures: “David buys a third parts ute!”
“Dilapidated”.
I’ll give you credit for understatement.
Your adventures have to be making some waves in Australia, yeah? What are the chances of getting a third car that’s a better starting point and using these two for parts?
honestly from the photos, we all said he should start with something better. these two are really not parts cars either, their is very little salvageable parts on either one.