29to receive the Icon treatment. It’s fascinating to consider
how the unhurried slog of entropy meets the studied
industriousness of one man seeking to attenuate the flaws
and dings within the constraints of science, engineering,
and order. When it comes to automotive canvases that
fit within that narrow sliver of the Venn diagram, it’s a
rare beast that meets Ward’s golden mean of effortless
authenticity and potential for mechanical improvement.
This particular Bronco Roadster seems to capture it ideally.
So maybe my original question of Ward’s preference
was too simple in its nature, too binary in its supposition
of good and bad. Turns out the origins of his disapproval
or discontentment with certain automotive strains comes
from a singular vision of how his Platonic ideal of automo-
tive perfection plays out. It’s a strange and wonderful place,
that sweet spot where old greets new, nostalgia meets
modernity. All ancient machines should be so lucky. AMRover,” he says. “It wasn’t intended to do that. Even when
clients call and they want to hand me a beautiful stack
of cash to enable me to do my thing, I’m warning them
of shortcomings that will remain. If you’re comfortable
within the confines of its original intent, they’re lovely.
However, if you’re trying to make a refined, quiet, squared-
off-corners, symmetrically true freeway flier out of it,” he
quips, “you’re rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.”
And maybe that’s the distinction. Ward’s Derelict Bron-
co has an improbably rounded skill set that mashes up
mechanical stoutness and modern levels of performance
with emotionally evocative wabi-sabi textures. Even more,
there’s no worry of putting the first scratch on this well-
worn specimen. In Ward’s words, the owner can “just hop
in it and wail on it.”
It took more than five decades for this particular Bronco
Roadster to patinate and scar, and less than a year for it