Buying A 1946 Pickup We Have All Been There

We've all been there. You grab the local Thursday newspaper, thumbing through the usual classifieds—classics, bargains—but nothing catches your eye. You toss it aside, only to pick it up again a couple of days later. This time, something jumps out at you—a stock 1946 Pickup truck. It's late, too late to call. You go to bed with one thought: What if it’s gone by morning?

John Jeffery | Miller Speed Shop
Photos by Joe Van Zyl

First thing in the morning, I make the call, and guess what? It’s still available—and just down the road. As I drive over, I can’t shake the feeling. Why is it still there? Is this another wild goose chase?

Half an hour later, I'm outside one of those new storage complexes, waiting. The roller shutter slowly lifts, revealing a dimly lit communal unit. Among the boats, quad bikes, and other forgotten toys, there it is—a very red, very sad-looking '46 Pickup truck, buried under a thick layer of dust. And I can’t even get close.

The owner starts talking. The engine and gearbox are missing, and all the fenders, bonnet, and glass are stacked in the bed. This isn’t quite what he described over the phone. He’d made it sound like it was all there, just needing a bit of elbow grease. Things aren’t looking good. Still, I clamber over some junk to get a closer look.

The guy’s keen for me to take it home, especially since I rolled up in my 1952 International Pickup, sitting pretty on its white walls. He knows I’d treat it right. The last guy wanted to chop it up, and the owner sent him packing.

Just as I'm ready to walk away, he mentions he’s got loads of new parts he imported to finish the truck. We head 5 kilometers down the road to his place, and out come box after box of fresh parts. Things are looking up. We agree on a price, but I’ve got until Wednesday to move the truck.

Wednesday rolls around, and I head out with Simon from Old Mill Rod & Custom, towing a borrowed trailer. Turns out, my International isn’t up to the task. It's struggling to pull the heavy trailer, let alone the '46. Time for a “phone a friend” moment—cheers, Ian. We get the truck moved, but it ends up sitting in storage for another year. I wasn’t even looking for a '46, and now I’m not sure what to do with it.

In the meantime, I decide to get the truck registered in my name. But when I hit the traffic department, I find out it’s not even in the seller’s name. Rookie mistake—I should have checked! The lady behind the counter is helpful, though. She tells me to get a letter from the seller with a copy of his ID. Simple, right? Wrong. I try calling him—nothing. I drive to his place—the gate’s open, the house is empty. Panic sets in. Back to the traffic department I go. The same lady reassures me: an affidavit will do the trick. After running around like a madman, I get what I need, and she sorts it out. I walk out with my new license—relief doesn’t even begin to cover it.

About a year later, I try to sell the truck. No takers. People lack vision when it comes to projects like this. With some spare time between jobs, I finally dive into the build. Six months later, it’s done—no major hiccups. Here’s the thing: you need a plan and you need to stick to it. Once you start chasing trends or changing direction, you’re in trouble.

Stance and proportions—these are 70% of a build. Nail these, and you’re golden. You can drop half a million on a car, but if the stance is off, it’s a flop. On the flip side, spend 40 grand with the right stance and proportions, and you’ve got a winner.

Wheels? They’re the soul of your ride. Don’t just slap on the latest 20-inch shiny rims with rubber-band tires. They might look cool now, but chances are, they’ll ruin your ride. Classic wheel and tire combos—those never go out of style.

And finally, keep it simple. Less is always more.

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