How I Sold a Toyota Land Cruiser for Nearly $200,000 and Lost Money
Restoration gone wild.

In 2009 I purchased a rusty old Land Cruiser for $6600. In 2015 I sold the same truck for $198,000. And I lost money.

The truck was an old FJ45LV, the ribbed-side, long-wheelbase Land Cruiser wagon built from 1963–1967. Only 5000 or so FJ45Vs were produced, about 1000 of them U.S.-spec, left-hand-drive trucks (hence the L). This generation is unique among FJs, as Toyota used an outside coachbuilder, Gifu Auto Body Co. Ltd., to build them by hand. The limited production numbers, an even higher propensity to rust than your average FJ, and 50 years of attrition makes it tough to find a good FJ45LV. So when I saw this neglected yet solid California ranch truck on eBay, I had to save it.

My original plan was to clean it up, make it run reliably, and drive it. However, as sometimes happens, things got a little out of hand. Before long, the FJ's bare body shell was sitting on my shop floor, the chassis was off getting powder-coated, and I was hunting FJ45LV parts like a man possessed.

Where I couldn't get good used or new-old-stock pieces, I had parts made. For example, most of the body gaskets are not available, so I had molds made to manufacture them. I was able to find NOS timing gears, but when I fired up the correct F engine for the first time after its rebuild, I didn't like their racket. So I had special "quiet" timing gears made. From scratch.

I researched and duplicated every finish and paint color. Fabricated correct, clear plastic fuel lines. Cut apart, rebuilt, and restored the original 1967 Toyota shocks. I removed the original brake hose fittings and recrimped them onto new hoses. The only item I was never able to source was an original rubber floor mat, even after offering a $5000 reward for one. I stopped counting labor hours somewhere around 3000. It was insanity, insanity for the pursuit of a very correct old Land Cruiser.

I succeeded: At the end of the process, I had a near-perfect, like-new FJ45LV. And I was too afraid to drive it. I couldn't bear to hear the first rock make contact with the wet-sanded and buffed paint under the fenders. Neither could I bring myself to drill holes for seatbelts to keep child seats secured. So it sat, and that seemed a shame.

I decided to sell the nicest Land Cruiser I owned. Figuring labor and parts at cost, I had poured more than $200,000 into a Land Cruiser wagon. At retail shop rates, it would be well over $300,000. Labors of love are not without cost. I consigned it to auction with a reserve that truly represented my minimum. The bidding was spirited, and after a few minutes, the hammer fell at $180,000. With a 10 percent commission, the buyer wound up paying $198,000, a world record for any FJ. The FJ45LV I spent five years restoring was no longer mine.

Since the sale, I've spoken to the new owner, and he says he plans to use it. I'm happy for that. I guess never having wet-sanded the underside of fenders comes with certain advantages. Maybe he'll bolt in some seatbelts, too.

SELLING AT AUCTION

LET THE MARKET DECIDE: Although I was painfully aware how much my FJ45LV cost to restore, I had no idea what it was actually worth. Country singer Alan Jackson sold his restored yet heavily modified LV at auction in 2009 for $82,500. Would the marketplace reward a more correct example or value it less? I decided to let buyers decide via auction.

PICK THE RIGHT VENUE: But I didn't want to leave it to just any buyers. The cars sold during the Monterey car week are the best of the best, and I saw the FJ as a potential impulse purchase in a sea of seven- and eight-figure cars. I opted to sell through Mecum Auctions, which, unlike other auction houses, let me set a reserve price and offered to feature it as a prime lot (you don't want to be the first or last to cross the block).

SET A RESERVE: Selling with no reserve is fine for vehicles with established prices or extremely high demand. An FJ45LV has neither, and I'm not a fan of Russian roulette. I set my reserve at $135,000. Most sellers fixate on this number, a mistake. I instead memorized my net reserve after the auction house seller's fee—in my case, $124,200. As soon as you're on the block, the auction company's "seller's ambassador," a.k.a. "the grinder," will ask you what it will take to sell it. Name your net reserve and see where the bidding goes. If it's tough going, you can always lower it. The auction company may also give up some of its fees to make the deal happen.

MIND THE DETAILS: Before shipping the truck to California, I made sure it was clean, had fresh fuel and a fully charged battery, and that it ran flawlessly. I detailed it again on site and stood ready to answer questions from bidders right up to the time it crossed the block. Mecum, for its part, took professional photography for its catalog and let me write the description.

DO THE MATH: Auction companies collect fees from both buyer and seller. So, the $180,000 hammer price on my auction meant the buyer paid $198,000, and I received $165,600, less the $1500 entry fee. This spread between the check the buyer wrote and the check I received helps explain why there are so many collector-car auctions.

VERDICT: I wouldn't do it again. Restorations of this level are tedious, lengthy, and costly. You rarely come out ahead. But nobody climbs Mount Everest because they have to—and I did save a cool old truck without suffering a total financial shellacking. Now I just have to figure out how to get "FJ45LV" off my "followed searches" list on eBay.