Deep in the Catskill Range lies a strange military surplus retail outfit staffed by a sole, cantankerous old proprietor.
I happened upon the place en route to my grandfather’s house, and demanded we stop on the way back for a look.
The guy had half a dozen Unimogs, Deuce-And-A-Halfs, four shipping containers worth of surplus wear, and this VW-powered treaded Bundeswehr-mobile.
I reckoned it would have been the perfect tool to get out of my driveway this winter, but the maniac behind the counter wanted some obscene amount of money for it.
Guess you’ve gotta pay for exclusivity. And a heap more to get going, in this case.