The Joy of the Build

For John Prehn, Jeff Michelsen and Wally Kropf, restoring a classic car was never really about the car. It’s about the thousands of hours spent chasing down the right part, the challenge of bodywork and paint done right and the quiet satisfaction of bringing something back to life. Three very different paths — a machinist who hardly ever advertises, a self-taught painter who cut his chops on airplanes and a retired naval aviator turned collector who waited 35 years to restore his rarest find — all arrive at the same place: joy found in the work itself.

It’s about the work itself. I enjoy working on the cars. That’s what keeps me going.”
Wally Kropf

A rare find, rediscovered

Wally Kropf’s pride and joy is a 1961 Chevrolet Super Sport — the first year Chevrolet ever built the model, and one of only 142 equipped with the legendary 409 engine that year. By his estimate, fewer than 10 of those original 409 Super Sports survive today.

The car found him through an unlikely connection. A friend battling a terminal case of Huntington’s disease had amassed a collection of roughly 160 cars, many in various states of disassembly. When the friend entered a care facility, Kropf helped his daughter sort through and sell the collection — but pointed to one car and told her not to sell it until she knew what it was worth. Months later, he asked for the right of first refusal. When she was ready to sell, he bought it.

Kropf owned the car for about 35 years before finally restoring it, a process that took roughly five years and included a full frame-off rebuild — engine, drivetrain, powder-coated frame and body mounted on a rotisserie for bodywork. A friend with a body shop handled the paint, though Kropf did nearly everything else himself, learning through decades of trial and error rather than formal training.

His restoration philosophy is simple: keep it stock and buy the best car you can afford before you start.

“Don’t start on a junker,” he says.

Looking ahead, Kropf worries that modern, computerized vehicles won’t age as well as his classics. Parts for his 1958 Corvette remain nearly 99% available through specialty catalogs — a luxury he doubts today’s electronics-heavy cars will enjoy in three decades.

At its heart, though, restoration isn’t about investment for Kropf — it’s about the work itself. “I enjoy working on the cars,” he says. “That’s what keeps me going.”

I always loved the old cars, I just didn’t know how to work on them.”
Jeff Michelsen

From grandpa’s garage to a 1,000-hour build

For Jeff Michelsen, the love of old cars started with family and friends. Time spent in his grandfather’s garage, along with a high school buddy whose father restored a 1940 Ford coupe, planted the seed.

“I always loved the old cars,” he says, “I just didn’t know how to work on them.” An auto body class his senior year of high school changed that.

His first project — a ‘49 Chevy pickup — never even hit the road; he couldn’t afford the insurance and sold it. A torn-apart 1940 Ford pickup followed him into a stint in the Air Force, where his father finished the job and sold it on his behalf.

Michelsen actually learned to paint by accident. Hired by a company that modified airplanes, he was asked if he could paint — and said yes, despite having missed that unit in high school. “They taught me how to paint,” he says, starting small before working his way up to full trucks, boats and airplanes.

His most personal project, a 1952 Ford F1, took over three decades to complete — bought at 26, finished at 58, delayed by years spent helping restore other people’s cars first. He estimates more than 1,000 hours went into the truck, where he handled the bodywork, welding and frame modifications himself, leaving the engine and drivetrain to specialists.

Rather than chase full authenticity, Michelsen blended original style with his own touches — reshaping fenders, chopping the top and lowering the stance for a faster, more custom look. “It’s personal taste,” he says.

Looking ahead, he’s skeptical that modern vehicles — built with plastic panels and bonded bodies, rather than welded ones — will ever inspire the same restoration culture. But he’s learned not to bet against nostalgia. “Fifty years go by,” he says, “and all of a sudden they’re desirable.”

You have to find joy in it. You can’t restore a car to sell it — it’s not cost-efficient. It’s the love of cars.”
John Prehn

50 years of classic car joy in Bend

When John Prehn moved to his home in Bend in October 1975, the neighborhood looked nothing like it does today.

“We had four or five neighbors, and we waved at them when they went by every day,” he recalls. Now, roughly 50,000 cars pass by daily. The parkway eventually swallowed up his neighbors’ houses entirely — a fitting irony for a man whose life has revolved around cars.

Prehn’s love affair with engines started early. Growing up in Southern California, he spent his childhood tearing apart tractors at his father’s rental equipment company and junkyard. By his teenage years, he’d already built a hot-rodded 1955 Chevy station wagon — his “family car” — complete with a custom 301 engine, a custom-ground cam and three carburetors his father never approved of.

That passion followed him to Bend, where he built his own machine shop from nothing, digging the pit himself with a contractor friend. What began as a full-service engine rebuild business eventually narrowed to precision machine work, run solo since 1995.

His proudest achievement sits in his garage and is his daily driver: a 1948 Mercury that took 12 years to restore, rescued piece by piece from swap meets after a body man told him to scrap it entirely. He refused.

Prehn owned and operated Prehn’s Machinery from scratch, hasn’t advertised in 15 years and hasn’t raised his prices since 2005. “I’m not doing it for the money,” he says. “It’s the funnest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

His advice to aspiring restorers is simple: “You have to find joy in it. You can’t restore a car to sell it — it’s not cost-efficient. It’s the love of cars.”

At 87, with 51 years of marriage to his wife Judy and a car club built from church friendships who share the same joy of classic cars, Prehn sees the real value beyond the garage. “The most valuable part of a classic car is creating joy in great relationships,” he says. “It’s special.”

This article appears in High Desert Horsepower, Fall 2026.