I have long been a fan of Full Size Jeeps and have owned two before. I had been looking at projects all over, when one fell in my lap, locally. It was priced below everything else I could find, so I took a chance and went to have a look. The guy claimed it had been "stored inside" and was "running when parked" and every other old car cliche you can think of. I got my directions, nabbed a buddy (because most times he has a more critical eye than I, is the voice of reason and can talk me down. Sometimes he isn't and we end up driving to Phoenix for a baja bug, but that's a story for another time), and we headed out. It was waaaaaaaay out on the lake, down a dirt road and back into some trees with some storage containers and other dead cars. Once we hiked through the magical forest, we found it, sitting out wet, smelly and neglected. It was bad enough that even though they were asking half of what the next cheapest complete Wagoneer I had found, I wasn't going to pay that for it. Also, it may have been stored inside at one point, but it had clearly been outside quite sometime when I finally got to it. But there she was, one blow out, three nearly flat tires and all. Overall, it was pretty straight. No rot, no major damage. I mean it is 34+ years old so I don't expect perfection. Oddly, it has a vinyl roof and sunroof, which I have never seen on a FSJ. I hate vinyl tops. Read that as REALLY REALLY HATE vinyl tops. But, again, she was as cheap as I am stupid, so here we go. Summoning the low baller within, I offer him half of his asking price. Not flinching, he comes back up just a couple hundred bucks to a three digit price we could agree on and a deal was made on the spot, with him also agreeing to pull the front wheel (blowout) and put a used tire on so I can move it. Three days, three inches of rain and one used tire later, I return for it. This time armed with my trusty F150, and a glaring lack of common sense, I drug the trailer down through the trees, around two brush piles and through a mini pond. Then I backed it down into where the jeep was. Other than nearly getting stuck, nearly jack knifing the trailer twice by sliding, and a small tree I bent over springing back into the cab and slapping me in the face, it was uneventful. When I finally got back to the Jeep, I got it hooked up and the winch drug it forward easily. That harbor freight winch has absolutely been worth its weight in gold. Previously having visions of a wet dead Jeep struggle, I prematurely celebrate. Then I notice the rear wheel aint movin. Great. Also of note is the guy who met us was letting his little girl climb all over everything. On the trailer, behind the Jeep, over the river and through the woods, to grandmothers house she goes. And he didn't care. His kid playing daredevil and being in the way, and all this guy wants to do is bitch about his ex wife and how she wanted child support he didn't want to pay. Classy. I off hand mention that if his kid keeps ducking under two and one half tons of dead jeep hanging off a trailer supported by one thin steel cable, any minute we can simultaneously put whats left of her in a garbage bag AND cut his child support in half. He wasn't impressed with my wit but did yell at her to "git her ass in the truck". Dad of the year material for sure. Dragging the jeep up, wheel slides. Let it roll back (move you stupid kid) it rolls fine. Back and forth and back. Finally (the kid gets out of the way) we drag the jeep to the ramps with me beating on the rear wheel, and it starts to roll as soon as it hits the ramps. One extended 36 point trailer turn involving me crushing yet another brush pile later, I take a hard left out of the Jeeps burial ground, drive out through a soft, recently tilled pasture slinging muddy goo and some form of plant from all four wheels at a frantic pace and out on to the road. My truck, with its quarter of a million miles, was very openly and vocally unhappy about having to haul this whale through a mud pit but we are on the road and rolling.