The International Scout, farm buggy-turned-people-mover, is considered one of the first “SUVs.” The brand lasted just two decades and is pretty much only remembered by fans. But thanks to two guys’ work over 17 months, we now have a full-color look at this weird truck’s elusive history.
This story has everything: space, romance, an International Scout II, and a first-gen Ford Bronco!
It’s finally happened: the most talented artist making bespoke R/C trucks has finally done his take on the best one ever: the International Scout. Watching this 100 percent scratch-built masterpiece come together is a privilege, seeing it hit the trail is just awesome.
International Harvester offered a 100,000 mile warranty in 1980. It was either a spectacularly misplaced declaration of confidence or last-ditch effort to win the attention of consumers... That same year, International went out of business as a light truck and SUV dealer.
The International Scout 80 is adorable, capable off-road, and easy to work on. But it's also brutally uncomfortable, slow as a sloth going to the dentist, and barely safer than walking blindfolded across the highway. This commercial might have been a slight oversell 50 years ago, now it's just funny.
So you've spotted a prime project car; owner will let his tragic heap go cheap and maybe it's even got a title. But it's wedged deep in the depths of some hoarder barn with no power and no brakes. Don't worry, getting it home isn't impossible. Just an incredible pain in the ass. Hop in, let's do this.
Project Car Hell isn't so much a place, as it is a state of mind. Actually, it sort of is a place. A place where you're damned to be wrenching and fighting rust until the end of eternity against a restoration project of impossible odds. Well, I've just swam across the River Styx.
As returning readers will recognize, I'm pretty much obsessed with a little 4x4 called the International Scout. Mostly because they're just delightful looking, so I've spent all week pawing through these pictures from the biggest annual gathering of the trucks anywhere– generally known simply as "Nationals."
So there I was, standing at the SEATAC airport with one thumb up on my iPhone and the other proverbially up my ass, nauseated by the feeling of failure and flailing for a backup plan. Another International Scout had just slipped through my fingers.
I'm trying to buy a $2,000 truck on the other side of the country. This has proven an exceedingly difficult exercise, not only because the truck I want is hard to find... but nobody I talk to believes I'm for real.
Turns out buying an International Scout is tougher than I'd thought it'd be. When I finally land on one that feels right, a buyer flakes or somebody scoops it. But the biggest obstacle to getting a Scout has been my own indecisiveness; I can't decide which body style I like better!