People who have bought and sold lots of classic cars will always tell you to buy the best example you can find of any given model. Well where’s the fun in that? What if you find something when you’re not even looking? Personally, I’d argue it depends on the car’s raison d’être – what are you going to do with it? Looking for a blue chip collectible or to make a healthy profit? Yeah, buy the best. Looking to flip something? Also, buy good, but pray for a hefty discount. But what if you just like to tinker with old cars, want to hold on to it for a while, aren’t concerned with the concours crowd, and just want to enjoy your classic in a bubble? Well, maybe you can roll the dice.

I wasn’t really looking for a car when I was surfing my Facebook groups that Saturday morning not too long ago, although I’d recently given my trusty 2006 Mercedes E320 CDI diesel to daughter #1 to replace her tired Subaru Outback, so there was a hole in the fleet. Ish. Anyway, there I was, minding my own business, procrastinating mowing the grass, and I tripped across this beauty: a 1983 Mercedes 240D for $1800. It my favorite spec for a 240: manual transmission, manual windows, and sunroof. It was also the same Light Ivory (read: German taxicab yellow) on Palomino MB-Tex, and had been owned by the same family for 35 years, purchased from the original owner who was a close family friend and neighbor. Considering that Mercedes W123 diesels in all manner of condition seem to be experiencing something of a resurgence in interest and value, I thought it would at least be worth checking out.

The seller lived in Northern Virginia farm country about an hour away from our house, so my wife and I decided to make a day of it: take a drive in the country, look at the car, stop for lunch at the very cool Hunter’s Head Tavern in Upperville, VA, and meander home taking the long, winding back way. Driving up the seller’s long driveway, the car came into sight parked in a field as we rounded the last corner before the house. And, well, it looked like an old 240D. The seller came out with a manila folder filled with all sorts of receipts and documents spanning the past few decades, and shared that the car had been his mother’s pride and joy, having bought it from a neighbor, and that he got it from her about 10 years later. He shared that it was the car that brought his newborn children home from the hospital and was really part of the family, but that it really hadn’t been used for the past ten or so years and needed to be loved and driven.

The first thing I did was ask if I could start it. He tossed me the keys and said it would fire right up – which it did. The glow plug light didn’t, but if it had been sitting for that long I wasn’t super concerned. That usually means  it’s got a bad glow plug or relay, and it ran like a 240D should. As it was running, I poked around the interior – a few small dash cracks, some discoloration on the MB-Tex seats, a little musty smell (but combined with the unmistakable aroma of Palomino Tex), but all present and accounted for. The key things like lights, signals, sunroof, blower, and even the original Becker Europa radio and power Hirschmann antenna all worked beautifully. He’d told me the air conditioning was toast, but at the price I wasn’t surprised. The tires were indeed tired, with date codes from 2000, so we limited the test drive to his driveway – but drive it did.

Poking around the car and underneath, it was obvious that it had been sitting due to the cobwebs and a fair amount of perished chassis rubber. On the top side I found pretty severely oxidized paint, but being a one-stage paint figured that would buff right out…  There were a few small dents here and there, and a couple of remarkably small rust spots in the normal W123 places (fenders near the wheels), but no rot, and the floorboards were as solid as any I’ve seen. My wife and I conferred and agreed that we liked the car and we liked its story, so I told the seller that we’d indeed buy it, and wouldn’t even try to nickel and dime him. We shook hands and I said I’d be back in a week or so after my check cleared to fetch it.

I decided that since it ran so well and I just happened to have a set of 14″ bundt wheels with essentially new Vredestein Sprint Classic tires on them (although in a slightly bulky 205 series profile), I’d drive it home. I cleaned up the wheels, agreed with Hagerty insurance on a value and got a policy on it, and cleared out a space in the garage for it. The following Sunday my wife and I headed back to horse country with the wheels and a floor jack with the mission of bringing our new baby home.

The old wheels came off with no drama, and I got my meaty alloys installed, and we hit the road home. We’d decided to again take the meandering back way as opposed to the Interstate, mainly because we had no idea about how the car would deal with being woken up from a mild slumber (I mean, the seller HAD started and moved it around his barn from time time to time…). It was a bit of an adjustment to get used to driving an old school diesel again after a few years, but I do love the feel of these cars on the road, and goodness knows that although they take their sweet time getting there, once they’re up to speeds from about 50 to 80 they will happily cruise there all day long.

Well, that is right up until they don’t. Did you see that coming? Who asked you? Humph. There I was, having made the transition from twisty country roads onto a 55mph 4-lane, and the car was just purring along, my wife following in the Tundra, you know, just in case. At a stop light, I called my TTS co-host Jonathan and put him on speaker, and started waxing poetic about my buy of the century.  As if on cue, those words still hanging in the air, the car started making a very rhythmic thumping noise from underneath. It varied with road speed (as opposed to engine speed), so my brain immediately jumped to a driveshaft problem with the potential to 1) lunch the motor/transmission/undercarriage and/or 2) kill me. I pulled over in a turn-off, got in the truck with my wife, and called Hagerty. Yay roadside assistance! And so the car was towed to my favorite mechanic’s shop about 30 miles away – SURPRISE!! – and we went for the second lunch at Hunter’s Head in as many weeks. Too cheap not to buy? We shall see.

Will our intrepid diesel survive this ordeal? Will my wife pull the plug on the car and force me to fire-sale it?  Tune in next time…….!!