1990-1993 (FORMERLY 4 YEARS- NOW CONDENSED TO 3)
Jim Ratto:
VZ35 and the long drive from Bay Area to Ventura and then back home Spring 1991
In the last installment, my friend Jason and I were bucking and burping our way down Interstate 101 in my terribly running car, on a miserable and dark 7+ hour drive south from the SF Bay Area, to Ventura CA, for a VW show and shine near the beach. We were using a ridiculous amount of fuel and having to stop very frequently to refuel, and for me to try, in vain, to make my car run closer to correctly. The back story was, I got tempted, and ended up ruining a good thing, by falling prey to the "big numbers" on the page of Engle cams in the old Johnny's Speed and Chrome book. What this means, is I swapped out my good old Engle 125, out of a perfectly running, new 94 x 74 motor, in exchange for an Engle VZ35. Now that I look back, I have to wonder how many VZ35 have actually sold since 1991. Maybe 4?
In any case, when you're in your twenties, and you're having a good time, you're able to stay up all night. Life is good and you don't want to give up the fun in exchange for sleep. But when things are wrong, and it's late, cold and your car is running as poorly as mine was, every passing 30 minutes after 12:00am adds to the desperation. By 3:30am we were within 40-50 miles of Santa Barbara. The plan was to get to Ojai (just northeast of Ventura) and spend the night at Jason's cousin's place. We were probably an hour and half away still. The long stretch as 101 seems to continue south (though in reality, it's due east) south of Buelton is flat and and arrow-straight, skirting the beach and the Pacific Ocean on your right. It's also windy through here, almost any time of the year. Above 75mph in a swingaxle, rear-engine VW isn't a great idea. So here we were, being blown about, managing to stay right in the thick of the RPM range where this cam was making me most frustrated. Steady state cruising was actually impossible, as the engine would begin to miss, then it would get worse and then violently buck, enough so that the glovebox door would fall open. You hear the seatcback beating against the fenderwells. If I just feathered the throttles open slightly, it would sneeze through the carbs and hiccup and then begin to accelerate. Then the wind would kick us out of our lane and I'd have to back off. And the entire cycle would start over.
Compare this to earlier in the story, when Frank and I were bombing down Interstate 5 to Los Angeles, November 1990 and how well the car was running then.
By 5:00am we had made our way NE on CA 33 into the small hippie city of Ojai. The sun was just beginning to paint the area with brushstrokes of morning light. Lots of oak trees and houses with rock walls and shade. It looked and felt like a sleepier Berkeley CA. We arrived at Jason's cousin's place, one of the ubiquitous oak-tree/rock-wall places a few streets off the highway. She had waited up all night for us (wow, now I felt really bad). She also said she'd like to join us at the show and when were we going?
No sleep, out of patience and having spent way more than I had planned on fuel.... I was at the point where I didn't care. I was questioning inside, why we, no, make that I, was even here. I calculated in my head that the time it took to drive all the way down to Ojai, I could have had the engine out of the car and split wide open to remove this big mistake of a cam.
At 7:30am we left for Ventura, which is maybe a 30 minute, mostly downhill drive. The downhill actually masked a lot of the tuning issues with the car. The show was being hosted at the Ventura County Fairgrounds, right at the shoreline, and despite the time of year, and the location, it was already sunny out. The show first impressed me to be a smaller affair, but similar to the Bug Bash show and shine held yearly at the Alameda County Fairgrounds in Pleasanton. The difference being the beach atmosphere. As you might imagine in your mind, all the ingredients were there.... crashing, foamy eastward waves crashing on sand and rock, tall palm trees photogenically growing against the backdrop of a cobalt blue sky. It really was a cool place for one of these events. I anticipated the DKP cars I expected to see would look right at home in this setting.
We parked my car and didn't bother with the usual dusting and misting with spray detailer. I was too pissed at the car to care. I guess my only comfort to be found was Jason, nor obviously, his younger cousin had any fundamental idea of how well my car SHOULD have run on the trip south. For all they knew, the car actually ran and rolled and to them, maybe that was enough. But not for me.
And in my foul mood, I walked through the show, not much mattering, not much making any impression at all. Maroon lowered Buses with polished 5 spoke fake Empis and loud woofers, and powder blue Bugs tilted up at an unnatural angle on jackstands over a mirror. I fought my way here for those cold dark hours for this? And there was still the ride back home tonight!!
Across the show area and the crowd I saw something familiar, a salmon-tan Sedan roof with a grey folded ragtop. As we walked closer, more of the car became visible. I now saw the blue decal in the lower front corner of the rear quarter window. It was the coral-red Bug with the BRM's and the 1776, what was the guy's name again?? My friend Frank always referred to him as Fishwagen, but I knew that was wrong. It was the car I first saw in Costa Mesa, then Bakersfield, then Phoenix. Schwimmer! Bill Schwimmer, that's the guy. I remembered from the Hot VW's article on this car and the white Oval and the maroon '67, all with those never-seen, antique BRM wheels. Bill's car was a well-presented as ever, looking as neat as it always did. Like every time before, now seeing it I noticed details about the car I hadn't before. Unlike shows today, Bill's car was the only car present this day which really oozed whatever it was his car had. Yes it was "all business" but it was beyond that. Racecars are also "all business" but Bill's car took it a step much further. Seeing it here near the shore, against the ocean, it really hit me how "right" this car was.
To Jason and his cousin, it was just another nice VW, but that was it. They were growing impatient with me crawling around and under it and advising them of it's Berg DCNF carbs and one-off turbo muffler that I wanted so badly. So we moved on.
Besides Bill's car, the show was a major bore. We left the Fairgrounds by late morning and decided to go find a beach near Santa Barbara to kick back at. We headed up 101, with fuel gauge hovering just under 1/2 tank. In an hour or so, we were sitting on a beach somewhere north of Santa Barbara watching a group of people playing volleyball. By the mid-afternoon I was getting a twinge of anxiety to get headed home. It was Sunday afternoon and I had to work early Monday morning. And the driver home, somehow, I knew would be much worse than the drive here.
Neil Davies:
Jim, that sounds like a thoroughly miserable experience. I can't think of anyone that I've ever heard of who has used a VZ35 - after reading that I don't think I ever will!
It sounds like the sort of road trip that could out someone off cars altogether. I think about all the people I've met over the last 25 years who have given up and sold their hobby cars and wonder if it was an event like you describe that made them think "this just isn't for me any more"?
Jim Ratto:
Quote from: Neil Davies on November 28, 2019, 00:03:37 am
Jim, that sounds like a thoroughly miserable experience. I can't think of anyone that I've ever heard of who has used a VZ35 - after reading that I don't think I ever will!
It sounds like the sort of road trip that could out someone off cars altogether. I think about all the people I've met over the last 25 years who have given up and sold their hobby cars and wonder if it was an event like you describe that made them think "this just isn't for me any more"?
This was one of many over the next 30+ years! But the good times, when the car just comes uncaged and the time is there to run it around and get everything out of it, it can give, makes me stay in this hobby. As I get older, it does seem more and more ridiculous and in vain, but I imagine it will always mostly be fun. Keeping the car keeps these memories pretty vibrant too. Which forces me to learn from these horrible mistakes.
j-f:
Looks like a good hangover. When you wake up after a too good party and you head feels like somebody is crushing your head in a vice...
Growing older teach you to keep it more reasonable. Must be the same with bad cam choice :D
Brian Rogers:
Thanks Jim. This gives me some perspective on component choices. Doctors are about to turn me loose in my shop. Still limited as to what I can do, but I need to get back to my projects. 92 x 76, 120 cam, & 40 Dellortos on CB Panchito heads. Parts are acquired some assembly required.
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