So my girlfriend sees this rust bucket Porsche in a gravel parking lot on her way down Lincoln one day. She tells me about it, and instantly I’m imagining a long hood version of our buddy Mike Burroughs’ mean, rusty E28. I call Jim Bauer and, within milliseconds, he’s ready to make an offer. He’s got visions of a non-operating early body (69-73) to restore, or at least scrap body panels from. Both of our dreams were smashed upon arrival at the gravel lot. No motor, hence the SUV ride height. The interior looks like a mini garbage dump. And there’s just enough body damage and terminal rust on each panel to make it not worth the effort. But somehow, especially sitting in between a Jeep Cherokee and Honda Fit, this Porsche is still a gorgeous sight.