Imaginary David Tracy Ditches His BMW i3 LA Commuter For A 1985 Jeep FC That Never Existed

By (imaginary) David Tracy

Somehow, when I saw the caller on my phone come up as a certain BMW dealer, I assumed it wouldn’t be good. Just the tone of the salesman’s voice told me all I needed to know. “Mr. Tracy, I know you’re waiting for the battery pack, and I hate to tell you but it looks like it’s going to be another twelve to sixteen weeks before that arrives, so…”

[Editor’s Note: I’m not even sure what to say here. I’m editing an article in which someone is writing as if they were me. I shouldn’t publish this. I really shouldn’t. Jason, should I publish this? -DT]. 

[Editor’s Note: What are you talking about, David? This isn’t even the first time this has happened. Just go with it! Sometime we have to let our Daydreaming Designer just let his imagination run wild, even if that means letting him temporarily inhabit our very personas, like some kind of automotive body snatcher. He just wants to show the world the alternate reality Jeep that exists in his head, so who are we to stop that? – JT]

I’m not asking for your pity, but I certainly could. I moved from the cold of Michigan to the west coast, only to be confronted by end-of-times rain, mudslides, and even snow. I reluctantly chose to give up on driving old cars in LA traffic to buy a seemingly sensible BMW i3, which for at least the next four months will be an expensive paperweight. I try to change my ways and this is the thanks that I get?

source: David Tracy

Choking on the fumes of my stumbling Mustang as I lumber along in local traffic through leafy Pasadena, I’m wonder why I can’t find the car  that I really need — something relatively modern but still decidedly Radwood vintage, with character.  I need a car that is wrenchable but reliable, something nearly as compact as a Nash Metropolitan, but more useable. I need a machine that’s economical but fun, an off-roadable thing that can satisfy my Jeep itch but is very much at home on the street.

As these thoughts fill my head, suddenly something catches my eye. I find myself instinctively slamming on the left pedal and egg-shaping the drum brakes of my near-sixty-year-old ride. It takes me a second to realize why I just did that, and then it registers. Sitting in a small grass lot with a FOR SALE sign on the windshield is the answer to all of my problems: a 1985 Jeep FC Grand Teton pickup.

source: Bring A Trailer (car for sale)

Wait, you say, isn’t this me returning to my old ways? Maybe, but the ‘new’ FC isn’t a product that has appealed to me until now. Of course, many of you likely don’t even know what the hell this thing is in the first place, so time for a bit of a Jeep history lesson. In the early eighties, the Jeep CJ series (pre-Wrangler) was still a strong seller for AMC, but the company knew that there were limits to the marketability of a vehicle derived from that legendary 1941 war machine. In an attempt to expand the market for the future, American Motors looked to the past, reviving two cars from their history.

The first car resurrected was one originally from 1948, introduced when the original Jeep was not even a decade old. After the war, designer Brooks Stevens was called upon to create a more family-and-street friendly Jeep as a means of finding a way to diversify. Named the Jeepster, this rear-drive-only convertible sacrificed off-road performance for day-to-day driveablility, possibly becoming the first ‘crossover’. For 1984, Jeep decided to release a modern version of the Jeepster with a sports car-like body on a Jeep CJ chassis; the fun of a Jeep without the austere interior and fabric top. You might remember that I purchased a derelict example a while back (and still own, somewhere):

source: Bring A Trailer and The Autopian

Now that Jeep had the ‘fun and comfort’ part in its expanded lineup covered with the new Jeepster, it was time to look at utility. In 1985, Jeep resurrected another long-dead model: the Forward Control series (or FC for short).

source: Bring A Trailer (car for sale)

The original 1956 FC was also a Brooks Stevens design, and this cab-over mini truck is frankly a flat-out amazing design. Just look at the Wikipedia description:

Introduced in 1956, FC-150 models were based on the CJ-5 with its 81 in (210 cm) wheelbase, but featuring a 78 in (200 cm) long cargo box. This was a record-breaking six-foot length (with the tailgate up) load bed on a vehicle whose total 147.5 in (370 cm) length was two inches shorter than the diminutive two-seat Nash Metropolitan.^[9][10] The rugged design and go-anywhere capability included a claim that the FC could climb grades of up to 60% and reviews by Mechanix Illustrated highlighted the vehicle’s toughness and surefootedness.^[10]

That’s right- the size of a Nash Metropolitan (a car that I also own) and a six-foot bed. No wonder I tried to resurrect a truly sorry example of an original FC a little while back.  Brooks Stevens even took the concept further with ideas for a more streamlined models and even a proto-minivan that would have been revolutionary; Kei van anyone?

These ideas sadly never left the prototype stage in America, but the Spanish licensed maker of Jeeps certainly saw the value. Take a look at these from Jeep-VIASA:

source: Bring A Trailer (car for sale) and Jeep-VIASA via Escuderia

By the eighties, Jeep in the US realized that Spain might be on to something. Released in 1985, the new FC was slightly larger than the original Eisenhower-era car but small enough to be powered by a four cylinder engine (in this case the EA831 from the Gremlin, VW LT and, in a modified form, the Porsche 924). The motor sits back further than in the original FC (which was so nose heavy that Jeep had to add a counterweight under the bed in back) for better weight distribution on a cut-down Jeep XJ chassis. Looking at the Brooks Steven’s concepts, American Motors saw the value in these different bodystyles but found a unique way to make them work.

The basic FC is essentially a big tub with a windshield; different roof and interior components give you multiple configurations:

-The two seat pickup model gives you a nearly seven foot bed (though the engine box protrudes slightly)
-The Crew Cab four seater has a second row of seats and rear doors, plus a short bed (surrounded by roof rails)
-The VanGo with a full front-to-back roof, four seats, rear doors, and two sideways facing jump seats in the rear cargo area

Unlike the famed modular Nissan Pulsar NX, you could not switch between these configurations in half and hour, but most parts are all common and it could be done.

I ’d never really considered a new-generation FC since it seemed too toy-like compared to my beloved SJs and XJs. Still, I’ve recently warmed to its charms, but it’s not like it mattered in the rust belt area where I used to like; essentially all examples had succumbed to the tin worm. Here in sunny SoCal, however, this Pasadena example proves that isn’t the case. Could it be a perfect commuter? With the Gremlin/Porsche engine it reportedly got an EPA estimated 21 city/36 highway fuel economy rating (in 2WD form), and the small size means that it could be parked anywhere.

My favorite New FC would have to be the Grand Teton pickup, an example of which I was now staring at right now, complete with a five speed and wheels off of a later model. The overall angular styling is quite similar to those Spanish models, but it’s actually more likely influenced by the owners of AMC (Renault) and the wedge-shaped Espace van that was introduced at about the same time. You can see the Espace in the low headlights, though the FC is all Jeep with the seven-bar grille. With a spotlight-topped targa bar and a removeable roof panel, the Grand Teton is about as fun as you can equip a new FC. The Teton looks tough and cute simultaneously, almost like the Suzuki Samurai that was released in the US about the same time (but the Jeep is far more useable). The only major issue with the design is, as on the Pacer, the inability for the windows to roll down all of the way. Despite the white paint looking a bit like a big piece of sidewalk chalk, being the Left Coast there would be no need to immediately bust out the welder if I purchased this masterpiece; not a spot of corrosion. Again, I’m used to buying Jeeps where you need to see if the floorboards are…there.

In the back of the New FC, if those taillights look familiar, it’s because they are XJ parts turned sideways (AMC was always skilled in getting the biggest bang for their tooling buck). The best feature has to be that despite the relatively short pickup bed, it can be expanded by a fold up ‘fence’ mounted to the tailgate. I’ve seen this idea before, but never built into the tailgate where it’s not just a loose collection of parts. This is standard on the Crew Cab since the basic bed on that model is so short.  The VanGO ‘wagon’  model with a full length roof offers the option of center-facing jump seats; these were miniscule (and unsafe by today’s standards) but nonetheless gave the van unmatched people carrying capability in a vehicle of this size.

Inside, the massive engine hump dominates the interior just as it did on the original FC, but the 1985 revival embraces this by continuing the form all the way to the windshield. Like the ‘new’ Jeepster I own, the dash features a seven-slot theme to mimic the grille; these slots hide the climate vents, ‘oh shit’ handles on the sides, and even the switches for the optional electric windows. A gauge pod behind the steering wheel is flanked with easy-to-reach secondary switches (rear defogger, rear wiper, roof lighsts, etc.) surrounding a gauge cluster taken right out of the XJ.

Making noseprints on windows while looking inside of this New FC, I am suddenly hit by a realization. As cool as this interior is on this thing, would I not prefer the multiple screens and rare woodgrains of the interior of my i3? What’s happened to me? To be honest with myself, once the Warsteiner barrels filled with my new batteries float their way across the ocean from Germany and my i3 is (supposedly) fixed, I’d likely let the poor Grand Teton sit. For such a revolutionary and exciting old machine, it deserves more than that.

For these reasons, I do the unthinkable (for me) and walk back to the Mustang to drive away. Better to let some twenty-year old version of myself possibly grab this thing, enjoy it, and be bitten by the same Jeep bug that changed my life a decade ago. At least that’s what I’d wish for.

Why I Bought My Currently-Broken BMW i3: LA Was Making Me Fall Out Of Love With My Old Cars – The Autopian

A Trained Designer Imagines What American Motors Corporation Would Have Been Like If It Had Survived – The Autopian

Our Daydreaming Designer Imagines He’s David Tracy Buying A ‘Holy Grail’ 1987 Jeep Truck That Never Existed – The Autopian

Our Daydreaming Designer Imagines He’s David Tracy Buying A ‘Holy Grail’ 1987 Jeep Truck That Never Existed – The Autopian