AutoTrader Find of The Week: This 2012 Ford SVT Raptor Still Has Plenty of Meat on The Bone
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It doesn’t matter how hard you try, the one thing you can never change about yourself is where you’re from.
I grew up in a small, formerly rural, but rapidly developing southern Ontario suburb. The entire town smelled like Tim Hortons and cow dung. Everybody I knew was a hockey player and their dad owned a landscaping company. I never, ever felt like I fit in and I couldn’t wait to get out.
I now live in the heart of Toronto. The entire city smells like hot dog carts and subway grease. Nobody listens to country music unironically. I never have to pretend I know anything about hockey. I never worry somebody will call me a homophobic slur for ordering the wrong drink. Dressing in clothes that fit isn’t seen as an insult to anyone’s intelligence. And I am never, ever bored.
This place is paradise. I feel more at home here than I have anywhere. I was born to be a city rat.
Except, the one country mouse impulse I can’t let go of is my taste in vehicles. While I’ve learned to appreciate a wide breadth of the automotive world, big, V8-powered American land yachts are hardcoded into my DNA.
And that’s especially unfortunate because gas-guzzling vehicles with shopping cart suspensions that are large enough to merit their own area codes mix in with heavy traffic, potholes, and parallel parking about as well as peanut butter and bleach.
I often think, while navigating my Mustang GT down Queen St. W., that I may have picked the very worst possible vehicle for life in Toronto. I often think of parting with it for something that would better suit my lifestyle (which, actually, might be nothing).
But here’s the thing, the only thing that would actually get me to part with my Mustang would be a hopped up V8 pickup truck.
A 6.2L V8 producing 411 horsepower? Check. Cartoonish paint and body accents? Icing on the cake. Ridiculous off-road capability? Hook it up to my veins. Iconic pickup truck silhouette? I can’t lie to myself.
“But, Chris, is a 14-year-old pick up truck really a smart investment?”
Well, the asking price of this one is $32,000. That’s down from its 2012 MSRP of $56,000. A 2025 model starts at $112,000 — so some might say I’m making a wise decision to purchase a model at the bottom of its depreciation curve.
“Okay, sure, it’s a relative bargain. But it’s done 162,000 km…”
Not a trailer queen, I’ll give you that. But the average Canadian motorist drives about 15,200 km each year on average. As a machine to be used on the daily, this F-150 is actually well under the mileage mark you’d expect for a 14-year-old vehicle — over 50,000 km shy, in fact.
This kind of mileage can often be a sweet spot. It implies the truck hasn’t been sitting, but it almost certainly hasn’t been overly abused. It’s been on the road and maintained to a worthy standard. The current owner claims no accidents, regular service, all the good stuff. And a look at the sheer cleanliness of the truck doesn’t seem to imply any different. There isn’t a spec of rust anywhere to be seen.
It’s so clean, in fact, that it sets off an instinct to keep an eye out instilled in me by a family of used car dealers. “What are they hiding?” I can’t help but think.
But what settles my suspicions is that this first-generation of F-150 Raptor, when they still bore the SVT badge, has become notorious for its reliability, with some owners keeping examples going for over 300,000 miles (~482,000 km)
And that’s why you buy a completely overbuilt performance vehicle. Because if you buy something intended to be horribly abused and use it reasonably, it tends to be understressed … and go the distance.
(Shove that in the face of anybody who asks “What do you need ALL THAT FOR” next time you pitch your dream vehicle.)
J.D Power gives the first-gen Raptor an overall reliability score of 84 / 100 — with the mighty 6.2L engine generally outperforming the lesser 5.4L variant.
Though these trucks are not without their issues. If you’re considering a first-gen F-150 Raptor, watch out for rust (particularly in the rear). A rare, but known issue with the 6.2L V8s, for example, were weak valve springs that could break and, in extreme cases, cause the valve to come into contact with the piston. A broken spring will be painfully obvious, as it causes horrible misfires. It’s a relatively easy fix, but one which absolutely cannot be ignored.
Also, it’s not uncommon for Raptors to have bent frames because … well … people did jump them. Keep an eye out for a truck bed that is mis-aligned with the cab — a telltale sign of a warped frame. In that same area, look at the gap between the bed and the cab to spot “bed dimples” — these occur when the bed comes into physical contact with the cab, usually due to heavy off-roading.
Lastly, the F-150 Raptor’s specially developed Fox Racing shocks tend to leak after heavy use — you can look for dark, sticky residue at the top and bottom of the shocks (it should be fairly easy to spot). Don’t consider this one a deal breaker, though. From the Raptor’s launch, Ford has always recommended servicing (rebuilding) these shocks every 80,000 km come hell or high water. So it’s something of an inevitable cost with a Raptor. It’ll probably run you over $1,000 — so just integrate that into the cost of any Raptor you plan to purchase.
“BUT, CHRIS, do you really need Fox Racing shocks, 35-inch tires and over a foot of suspension travel when you live in a city?”
Uh… you ever hear of potholes, city construction, and curb rash? Driving down John St. literally feels more “off-road” than an actual forest trail.
Plus, the only reason I own a car is to escape this unbearable pressure cooker, breathe some fresh air and have five goddamn seconds to think to myself without the nonstop sounds of honking horns and people screaming…
I love it here. Honest.
Truthfully, the only thing currently stopping me from selling my Mustang GT and buying this Ford F-150 SVT Raptor is that I live in a condo building. That means underground condo parking. And that means the F-150’s 18-foot (5.4-metre) length literally will not fit in my parking spot.
Oh, well. That’s a loss for this city rat, a gain for some country mouse somewhere. I’ll just keep pretending that I’m above such things as a screaming V8 off-road pick up truck…
Even though I really, really, am not.
