Achtung, Baby!

There may not be 11:1 compression ratio or 5.0 liter pistons but she's got it were it counts, kid.

Our Volkswagen is known by a few names; the "good bus" by Ava, "Daisy" by Mare, and I am sure many fellow motorists, especially those stuck behind us as we struggled to get up the local canyons, have called it "...that, !#*@ hippie bus". As for me, after a lot of hard work whipping her into shape, nothing says reliable German engineering weighing in at around 2,700 lbs like "Helga."

(insert various stereotypes here)


Helga experienced quite a bit of body work over the past year. A complete roof conversion left her easily 150 pounds lighter. The interior was was completely removed and refurbished with new headliner, LED overhead lights, wood floor, carpet and stereo. My new friend Ray Brown, worked her brakes, wheel bearings and timing over. So now she is running and handling as smooth as she was 39 years ago when she was shipped to San Diego.

And although I can envision Mare rolling her eyes as I say this, her 40th birthday will be in March next year. Hey, how many 40 year-olds do you still see livin' strong, after extensive makeovers...wait, let me rephrase. 40 year old cars, I mean, of course.


Hopefully, she will see one more camping trip before the snow falls. Anyone interested?

VW Update

Well, contrary to what my contributions to our little blog site may reflect, I have had time here and there to work a bit on our Volkswagen Westfalia. Even though I haven't documented any progress,“Daisy” has seen quite a transformation since last year.

Once upon a time, about September of last year, Marianne started receiving some rather inquisitive remarks during her normal Sunday meetings. The good sisters were referring to the seemingly growing fleet of Volkswagen buses in our driveway. This due to my acquiring yet another VW bus, a 1968 VW from a local property owner who was ready to send it to the junkyard and eternal demise. Ultimately this find was a godsend, since I planned to remove the rather bulbous fiberglass topper on Daisy, and replace it with a closer to original canvas pop-top, which this donor bus had, and the ethic of keeping vintage cars form decaying in a junk pile is a cause I contribute to. Consequently, I suckered my brother Jeff into helping me tow the motor-less donor, speckled with years of unsightly bird art, from its lowly driveway spot to its new spot, in our lowly driveway. It was, to say the least, not an improvement to the neighborhood’s property values.

During its time in our driveway, the operation of surgically removing essential parts began and it was time consuming yet fun. But, when the time came to use my angle grinder to cut into the pristine 30 year old, vintage sheet metal, I sweated every detail. This critical piece of metal was pivotal in the restoration of Daisy’s pop-top roof and I have been called many things, but professional Auto-Body Technician was not one of them. Therefore, I scoured old photos of VW buses to estimate the location of my cuts. I measured twice, three, even four times, only to back off as I second-guessed myself. I even ventured onto a couple of Volkswagen-only websites to search their discussion forums for any sign that maybe another, out-of-his mind sucker had planned, conquered and documented this territory. No such luck, I was on my own. In fact several people from the VW purist end of the spectrum laid into me, heckling what I was proposing as an abomination to the VW scene.

Whatever. Feeling as though I have to sail, rather than drive, my VW down the freeway with that huge piece of fiberglass above me is an abomination to my scene.

Anyhoo, I took a deep breath and sliced out a rectangular piece in a dimension I thought should fit Daisy. Afterward, as I placed the metal aside and I was pleased with what else I had scavenged from the donor bus, I pryed the white bubble-top off of Daisy's roof and fitted it to the donor bus. What I didn't anticipate was encountering extensive rust around the rim of Daisy’s roof. This was a problem. One that I wasn’t happy with but was true to the roller-coaster of highs and lows of the car restoration experience.

After the dust settled, the neighborhood heaved a sigh of relief as I had the donor towed away as part of an agreement with another local VW nut, in exchange for the welding and rust repair I needed. Which pretty much brings me current. Next will I post details of the pop-top install and removal of all the interior furniture, cabinets and paneling in order to sound deaden, insulate and lay new carpet and wood floor.

Officially Shunned!

It's amazing how karma works itself into your life; as quiet as a mouse, yet as painful as a slap in the face. I will explain my karmatic sting...

For years I have been a Chevrolet fanatic, boosting the Camaro's brute power over any other model from the "big 3" or any other import ricer. I still am a bit nutso, except for the fact that I now have found interest in older Volkswagens. Currently, I am in dire need of some help in finishing a welding project on the old Volks. I have sent numerous emails and left several voice messages with many seemingly skilled welders in the valley. I have received some response, nothing promising, the worst being an answer to an email I sent off a few days ago.

I sent my inquiry to a local classic car body shop asking for a quote on the welding job I needed. I noted the year, type of car and added that though it may not be one of the classic muscle cars they so haphazardly plastered across their terribly designed website, it is a classic nonetheless.
An email flashed in my inbox yesterday; I opened it and was stunned and a little taken aback to find their simple response. "We only work on American cars here."

Speechless, flabbergasted, shocked, stunned, astounded! It immediately reminded me of the old Star Wars scene when R2D2 and C3Po tried to enter the cantina in Mos Eisley when they were confronted by the slob of a bartender: "we don't serve your kind here.."

I did not know what to say. But after mulling it over for a few days, I figured hey, karma sucks, times change, muscle car rednecks do not, and life goes on as I continue my new found hobby, officially shunned from the world of American muscle cars.

"Don't call me a mindless philosopher, you overweight glob of grease!"

New Door Locks on the Bus

So, first things first. The bus had some issues with security when I bought her. The key would not move the lock on the driver's side door; it would only lock using the inside latch. The passenger side door didn't even have a lock cylinder at all, but could also lock from the inside. So, I ordered two new shiny door handles and locks from Wolfsburg West.

As I waited for the new handles to arrive, I tore into the door panels. After removing all the hardware, I carefully pried the aged and brittle door panels off to reveal the nastiest mess. Dirt, leaves, dust, old foam, liquor receipts from a previous owner, and even a couple of hornets nests! The factory plastic sheeting and foam insulation just fell apart in my hands, so that will have to be replaced. But once I got the door locks removed via a couple of screws it turned out that all the mechanisms were so full of crud none of it worked, thus the reason the locks wouldn't work. After hours of scrubbing and soaking the entire units in good ol' WD-40, I finally got them working. I replaced all the hardware and snapped the door panel back on.

When the handles arrived, I fitted them into the door and screwed them in. After a few test runs the interior door locks loosened up and now we can leave our junk in the bus and head out for a hike! Next on the security list is Ava's seat belt install!

It Has Begun!

There are times in your life when serenity prevails. For some it comes during a sunset while in the solitude of mother nature, for others maybe from a drunken stupor. But in my case, by the good nature of my patient wife, serenity is working on a classic car. For years, thanks to my great grandpa's jalopy genes, I have nursed a love/hate relationship with cars. When the accumulated grime and general funk caked on an engine mix with a potpourri exhaust and carb cleaner, oh man, I am in my element. Give me a wrench and I will gladly bust my knuckles till dawn (ask Marianne). Alternatively, nothing infuriates me more than watching car after car go to one destination with only a single driver behind the wheel. Our American passion with cars has also become the catalyst of our environmental deterioration. Driving a car is a privilege, granted by both government and environment. But, I digress...

After semi-restoring two other cars, a third project has found its way onto my driveway. After having the above-mentioned epiphany, I no longer desire the chest pounding power of a muscle car. A two-seat coupe definitely will not accommodate Ava's car seat, nor will it take us and all our gear to our off-road destinations while keeping fuel economy in mind. Yes, after a few years of searching I have my quintessential family car:

From what information I can gather, we are the fourth owners of "Daisy", a 1969 VW Westfalia Camper. She came to Utah from So Cal and she is clean for her age; low on the rust scale, and high on originality. She is approximately the 175 thousandth 1969 bus to come from Deutschland.

Since this bus is nearly 40 years old, the first step is ensure she lasts another 40+ years and make her safe for the whole family. But aside from some general mechanical, engine, and aesthetic work, she is good to go! Nicholas would be proud.