So, today seemed like a lovely day to explore a new-to-me junkyard that purportedly had a few E30s kicking around. It was, as they say, a bit of a goldmine. Not necessarily in the sense of parts found (but I did pick some goodies off of a 1987 325es – wish I had a truck, there were some beautiful sport seats I had to leave behind), but rather in knowing there is yet another boneyard local to me that keeps all sorts of forgotten rarities in the far corners of its marshy real estate.
One of the first things that caught my eye was a mid-70s Bronco. After reading this recent post on the Hemmings blog about a reader finding his grandfather’s long lost 1974 Bronco, I couldn’t help but wonder about the owner of this forlorn off-roader, sitting somewhere and daydreaming about his former pride and joy. It’s not too hard to imagine this rig cresting over some dunes with the hardtop removed and a sun-kissed gal hanging onto the roll bar.
This just made me sad. An absolutely gorgeous Volvo 140-series with seemingly completely original sheetmetal, mint bumpers and chrome, and all lighting intact. All it needed was a set of leather seat covers (and, well, wheels) and this swanky Swede would look perfect parked on the streets of Newport, which its parking sticker indicated it was last a resident of. Hell, the original keys were still with the car – hard to fathom how this example ended up here.
I’ve got to do some more research on this. It was a mid-90s Land Rover Discovery with the factory-applied “Special Vehicles” Sticker on both fenders and the rear gate. I seem to recall that this indicated some level of factory-equipped off-road gear like winches and auxiliary lighting, but I haven’t been able to confirm this – yet.
These two old girls were shoved way, way back in the yard, next to several worthless mid-80s domestics. I have a suspicion these were both part of the same estate or garage at one time, and man – what a sophisticated couple this pair must have belonged to. The Rover 3500 is a rarity in the states in any condition, and it’s a shame to see it languishing in the forgotten corner of one of the sloppiest scrap yards I’ve ever stepped foot in. The Mercedes – I think a 220 coupe – conjured similar feelings of, “I wish I had a big yard and understanding neighbors.” Would have loved the vintage Rhode Island license plate off of the Rover, but the overseers had a policy against taking them. If my kids ever donate my cars to a yard after donating my body to science, I swear my spirit will become the poltergeist from hell.
Do you ever get the feeling that the owner of a car was once the cat’s pajamas? This Fiat X1/9 was in decent shape for mid-80s Italian Job, with a complete interior and mostly-there sheetmetal. What I loved were the stickers in the back window, which shows the owner was a Providence College alum and an Aerosmith fan – I’m sorry, but all I envision is some preppy dude who rolled around campus in a two-seat targa-topped coupe and got all the ladies, helped by the fact he had a buddy with a hook-up for great seats at live shows.
Check out the top of the trailer. At this point, I began wondering when I’d see a carriage and the skeletal remains of six horses.
A hopelessly rusty Triumph TR6 that housed a very clean set of bucket seats. The inspection sticker was from 1990, but its last owner had at least some intent to put it back on the road – you don’t just splurge on new upholstery without having faith it will run again. Unfortunately, I heard what sounded like a rattle snake (do we have those around here?) and saw, as some confirmation, good-sized shedded snake skins sitting on the console. I moved on quickly, which I guess is why those seats have remained with this boat anchor.
I tend to get nostalgic when I spot original dealer stickers, especially with cars like this Saab 900 convertible. How it ended up in Bristol, Rhode Island when it was originally sold at Bill Bryan Subaru in Winter Park, Florida, is maddening. I know, I know – why do I care? Well, it has something to do with knowing this car once cruised top-down 11 months out of 12 in a climate made for convertibles. All I can imagine is some ungrateful co-ed calling mom and dad long-distance complaining that Roger Williams University parking enforcement towed her car again, and, “You know, my boyfriend Todd has a new Civic and I’ll just ride around with him.” 10 years later, Todd is mid-level management at Enterprise Rent-a-Car, Jenny is selling cosmetics for Avon in Nebraska and this once-beautiful Saab sits, with original keys and remote locking fob (how expensive must THAT have been in 1989?), sinking into the mud.
That’s all for now. There’s a new yard in Brockton I’m itching to check out, but right now, I’m just itching from whatever I crawled through to snap these pictures.
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