share your favorite VW memories...

[Jim Ratto]

This has probably been posted before, but so what....at least it's not another "what is a street car" post.... Besides we have new guys coming around every few days to join in and share.

What are some of your best memories while following the VW scene?

My VW has been a core part of my life for about 22 years, socially, career-wise and even gotten me in front of a few judges (and I don't mean the car show type).... so I've got more than a few, but in an effort not to bore you all into old age, I'll just touch on a few in some detail.

Many would expect The Big Day the car became mine would be up near the top. Strangely, however, that day just kind of seemed like a first date with some girl you're not sure about. I looked at the dash of this zenith blue '67 and none of the switchgear (besides emergency flasher) was labeled. There were what looked like three handbrakes (those are heaters?). Under the rear lid was this weird looking engine, really it appeared to be just a rag tag mess of greasy black sheetmetal and rat's nest wiring and some oily corrugated hoses. Poking out of the apron were the typical wimpy chrome exhaust pipes that every other VW had at one time and they were going to make that horrible, feeble chortling sound. So while I was happy to have my first car (got my '67 about a week after turning 16, in 1986), I wasn't in tune with how A Volkswagen Works. I had yet to shed blood on the car or strip a plug hole...or win a street race.

I'd say my first standout memory occured about 6 months later. I had worked a few years part time as a janitor at a bakery depot, sweeping floors, mopping, etc. One hundred percent of my meager (very) income went into savings, check after check piled upon one another, all going twoards a new motor for my Bug. By the time the six months had eclipsed, I had enough dough saved for a 1641 dual port, a Weber 32/36 carb kit, some odd engine dress up pieces and an S & S header with Street Silencer mufflers (two aluminum canister mufflers that hung below heater boxes). After getting the engine in by a hired hand, my Dad took the car out one night and I chose to stay home....but stood in driveway as he backed the car out from garage. Compared to the ticky idle and wheezing muffler of the old motor, the 1641 snarled and gulped and rasped. As my Dad pulled away from our house, the little Bug sparkled like a gem in the late afternoon, and it could be heard over a block away, growling through those mufflers. I remember just standing there listening to it

I'll share my favorites tomorrow....for now share some of yours.

Jim

[Sam K]

I don't know where to begin. I've had my '67 for 18 years and I've been driving it regularly for the last 14 years (I'm 30 years old). That car and I have been through a lot together. It's taken me to high school, to college, to every job I've had and most of the places I've lived.  Every girl I've dated has been in that car. In fact, one girl that I dated for nearly nine years dumped me in my bug, but it wasn't the cars fault. I've slept in it, eaten in it, and done probably everything else you can think of in it. . I've met a lot of cool people because of it, some of them became lifelong friends. It's also gotten me in trouble a few times both with the law and with my parents.

I remember about a week after I started driving, the clutch went out. Armed with my trusty "Idiot Book", I pulled the engine out, replaced the clutch, pressure plate and throwout bearing, put it all back together and it worked! I was so proud. A couple weeks after that, I wathched the odometer turn back to all zero's. Unfortunately, I didn't have a camera, but I'll be sure to catch it the next time! I got my introduction to drag racing with that car as well and I won several trophies over the years.  My favorite racing memory is probably when I won the pro eliminator class at the Denver Bun In in 2003. Good times!

[Jim Ratto]

nice stories and accomplishments! every girl I've known has been 'initiated' in my car too, seeing the tach swing to 7K + 
wonder why they all refused to ride in it again?

Good memory from 1987....first outing alone with my brand new license and new motor, Baylands VW show in Fremont CA. Spent all day Saturday cleaning and polishing and waxing and re-waxing the car for show on Sunday. Spent hours on the chrome VW wheels.
Got up with sun on Sunday morning, walked out to garage, car was lustrous from all the elbow grease, backed it into driveway, let it idle nervously, with a few warm up blips thrown in for the asshole neighbor....then I was off. It was already bright out, long morning shadows, lawns glistening from sprinklers, no other cars on the road yet, just my VW and I. I got a few blocks down the way and wound down the windows and cranked the vent wings full open. The aromas of new header paint and and wax residue mixed with the balmy summer air filled the interior. I clicked on the cassette deck (speedwell...take note, with EQ in glovebox  ) and the tape within changed sides...... it was Zeppelin's first album....and the opening downstrums of "Good Times, Bad Times" erupted from the 6 x 9's...."In the days of my youth......" I turned it up to ear splitting level, the ruptured drumming from John Bonham pulsing through the seatts and into my back....engaged 1st gear and I was off. I think I had chills...listening to the motor's revs rise and fall and the ripping, tearing exhaust note, mixed with that epynomous Zeppelin album, the cool summer morning and the freedom of being a teenager alone at last behind the wheel.....it was like a teen gearhead's world was right for a day.

[Fastbrit]

Back in 1974, heading down to the south coast in my first Bug, a 63 sunroof. Lowered, dechromed, red and packing a.... 1200. Hit some traffic and slowed to a halt. Two lanes going my way, so each line of cars would move forward in turn a few yards, then stop, while the other line then moved forward and stopped. There was a bunch of kids in an old MG saloon who were checking out the Bug and I could see what was going to happen. The car in front of them stopped – they didn't. The old MG was so rusty the front was destroyed. I slid down into my seat, looked the other way and cruised on. Smiling...

[Sam K]

So I bought my Bug in october of 1990 from my uncle, who bought it in '68 or '69.  Here's the story. We were hanging out at my uncle's house one day and my starts bugiing him to get rid of his old VW, which has been sitting in the driveway for a few years. My cousins and I used to sit in it pretend we were going somewhere, but that was about all the action it got.  My uncle turns to me and says "Hey Sam, do want to buy a bug?" I ask him how much and he said $50 would take it. So my dad and I go home and get my piggy bank.  We go to Kmart and buy a battery and head back to my uncles house. He explains to me how to lift up the back seat and pt the battery in.  When I hook up the negative terminal, I nearly jump out of my skin because the radio comes on as loud as it can go.  I put the backseat down, turn off the radio and ask my dad what to do next. He shows me how to take off the air cleaner, pour gas down the carb, put the car in neutral and turn the key. It actually ran anmd we drove it home! And that's how the saga of my bug started.

[Jim Ratto]

I'd say my absolute favorite was the road trip to Phoenix with Sheep in 1990 in my '67. About 3 weeks earlier I had built and installed my first 2.0L engine with select parts, brand new 44IDFs, custom 044 Magnum heads by Jimmy Hannan, Engle 125, swap-meet 1-1/2" Four-Tuned merge with QP's. We made the trip from San Francisco/Bay Area, down the long, straight Interstate 5, at night. Compared to the 1641 it replaced, the response to the gas pedal was amazing. We were cruising effortlessly @ 90mph (indicated) hovering around 4200 rpm, just where the 125/heads/carbs came into the zone. Need to pass a slower car? Just dip into the throttle and the motor would shoot us past traffic like we were going downhill. That motor was a real sweetheart. Didn't leak a drip, ran under 180F for the entire trip (except up Grapevine), and we saw some awfully odd, but beautiful desert country.....through Palm Springs, Desert Center, Indio, Blythe, Vidal, Needles, Amboy, Ludlow, Barstow, Edwards AFB.....  basically unliveable out there, but neither of us had seen this territory before and we'd never driven the VW that far, and it was the maiden voyage for the first big cc motor in my car....yet to be another experience like that one.

Of course, to my big surprise, going 12.66 @ Carlsbad (in what I thought was a high 13 sec car) during the trip down with Tony Wilkie is a real smile-maker too.

And the day I joined DKP in Nov 2006..... that felt darn good.

all the various long and short jaunts on the road...all kind of winds into a weird, storybook of refueling stops (and all the questions from onlookers), stops for grub, sleeping in the car, scraping dead bugs from nose of car, oversteering through good "sports car" roads, visits to the redline on every freeway onramp, wishing for wipers that worked, and trying to fold a map back up while going along @ 80 mph on some backroad.

[Donny B.]

The year was 1995 and I had been working on my ’66 for the past year trying to get it done.  I had taken it off the road in May of 1994 to start the restoration and was finally getting there.  I received a phone call from my friend Rick Mortensen asking that if I got it done would I bring it out to Firebird Raceway on Wednesday morning.  There was going to be a televised interview for the local TV station regarding the Bug-O-Rama the following weekend.  Billy Brandon was at the house this Tuesday evening finishing the interior and I was doing the final little things.  Tightening nuts and bolts and doing a final check on the electrical system.  The engine was in and everything was in it’s place.  Billy pulled himself out of the car saying he was done.  I remember standing there and asking out loud what did I need to do next.  The more I thought about it I realized I needed to go get the keys to the car and try it out.  As Billy drove off, my wife Lee and I drove the car up to the local store to get stuff for the early morning trip to Firebird.  As we got out at the store I could only look back in disbelief that my car was back on the road.

The next morning I was almost giddy as Lee and I got into the car for the trip out to the Track.  We got there just before 6:00 AM to make the TV interview.  That had to be one of the best ever memories of my car.

[Speed-Randy]

they are kinda like boats, the 2 happiest days are the day you bought it and the day you sell it

[Sam K]

I've been pondering it on and off all day and I keep remembering funny stories involving my bug. Like when the original single port seized up. I was shifting from 2nd to 3rd gear and it just locked up, which of course mad the back wheels lock up and then I slid into the curb. It wasn't funny at the time, but sort of is now. I've had a lot of scares too, like brakes failing more than once, or locking up the front brakes with 135's a wheel falling off on the highway, a couple fires, and various other things like that. Once again, they weren't funny at the time but looking back, they are a part of owning a bug. It's sort of like a badge of honor.

Another story that getting funnier is the time I gut jumped by 5 guys as I was getting into my car in the high school parking lot. I ended up getting into the car before they beat me up too bad, but then they started kicking the car and stuff. One of them was standing a feet in front of the car, so I just hit him.  I took off and they got into a car and chased me. I lost them, but the police got called. I got suspended from school. A couple of them got expelled since it was considered a gang activity. I aslo got a broken nose and a few bruises and my car got a few dents, but we survived. On the plus side, for the rest of my high school career, nobody gave me any crap.

[Jim Ratto]

remembered another one

My long time friend Sheep had bought this pretty cherry red '67 back in the very early 1990's and drove it around for a bit with a 1600 single port, but had every intention of doing the big cc IDA thing in the near future. As I had bought a couple of late buses around the same time, I ended up with some spare cases, 69mm cranks, etc. I think at one point I had 3 German "filled" cases lined up in my parents' garage, plus a nice pair of Brazil cases and a nice Mexican universal, 3 Rimco 69mm cranks, set of Rimco rods....and lots of Engle cams in boxes, and a pair of heads by Pauter, non-weld 40x35mm. Sheep inherited a bunch of this odd junk for Christmas that year, and so we sent case for boring to 94mm and the other usual tasks, we had Volksmachine in S.L.O. freshen the heads, found a K8 and some Eatons, and he found a pair of IDA's up in Santa Rosa from a VW midget racer. So, basically the car was going to get a 1914 IDA motor (which Sheep had wanted since we saw Brinton's car and met Greg back in 1991 for the first time). Other parts fell into Sheep's basket like a Crown alum flywheel, some Berg pieces, big diam header, etc. We got the thing screwed together and in the car around Thanksgiving of the following year.
One cold, misty night, we took our cars out near the Livermore Lab for some jetting passes. Again, early 1990's so there were no readily available LM1 things to hang on your car. It was all done by ear, feel and love. We ran 40mm chokes in Sheep's Webers and did some guessification on the fuel/air jets and ran it out there. I strobed the advance, checked his linkage and told him "go try it". Our test road was probably 1-1/2 to 2 miles long, industrial, isloated, flat and arrow straight. Sheep eased into driver's seat, I stood behind the car, the heat of the exhaust and the fan-driven air keeping me from shivering. The motor had a very hollow, crying, hard edged, nervous idle to it, all garbling Weber gulping, and spitting dual quiet mufflers that sounded like they were about to be shot off the header. Frank zinged it a few times, and it sounded like a cross between a Japanese super-bike, a riding mower and a crying newborn baby. He left in first gear, very hard, the rear tires rolling warm hazes of smoke from under the car as it slid sideways then shot forward. I could tell Sheep wasn't accustomed to the motor yet as he wound the thing really high in first, then paused (in fear? bewilderment?) then grabbed second, sent car a little sideways again and held it through until that motor had no more, but the shift to third was quick....the motor barely got off song, as he came back into it, it almost had that race-Ferrari strain to it, like the motor wasn't expecting such a fast shift and wide open carbs to breathe through once engaged again. It was so cold that night, and as he climbed the long powerband, the scream of that motor pierced the black air. Fourth gear, again that eager cry from the wide open 48's, climbing higher in pitch and intensity.....he had to be a half (or maybe more) mile away, but the car sounded as if it was parked on my toes....until he finally gave in and I saw his one brake light (left) come on and the revs fall. After hearing the willingness of that little, low dollar motor, built from forgotten parts and dusty Webers, I knew the jets were staying "as is."

[Sam K]

Nice! 

So I was talking to a friend on friday and he reminded me of a funny story from a few years ago. It must have been 1996 or so beacuse that's when I built my first "high performance" engine. It was a 1776 with a C/W crank, a web 110 cam, ported stock heads with heavy duty springs and some Dellorto 40's. Nothing too special, but after a string of tired stock engines, it felt pretty fast. It was a great bracket racing enigine as well. As long as I cut a good light, that my car would run the same number all day (usually a low 16 or high 15). Anyway, my friend Eddie and I were in the garage at my parents house balancing the carbs. Now I only got to use the garage with extra special permission from the stepmother or if they were out of town.  So there we were, in the garage making all kinds of racket and I didn't notice my family pull up in front of the house. My stepmother comes up to me and starts yelling. I start revving the engine up and say "what?"  a few times. She yells louder and starts poking at
me with her finger. At this point she's about to explode. She says something to the affect of "get this piece of junk out of the garage", so of course, Eddie and I hop in, I rev it up to about 6,000 and sidestep the clutch. My car left two black stipes out of the garage, all the way down the driveway, off the curb and into the street. They were there for months! I thought I would be in all sorts of trouble when I got home, but my Dad thought it was pretty funny. 

[The Ideaman]

Another story... Back in the day (1980-2) I had a 66 java green sedan. Bought it from the original owner with Empi fenders on the rear and a fairly high compression 1300. Got it 5 months before I had a license. That thing got great mileage, but would ping on anything other than leaded premium. Came with a BRM in the trunk on a dried up 5.60x15 tire. As a 16 year old kid, I had no idea what it was, but it sure was cool. Paid $500USD for the car. HVW's was promoting the California Look, and that is what I wanted for this car. It wound up with Porsche chromies and nipple hubcaps with 135's and 165's.
Around 1982, I had a 2074 (92x78) built for it by Rick Isaak of Racekraft in Phoenix, AZ. It had ida's and an fk87 with Fumio heads. Made 160hp. Too much for a kid like me. Got into all kinds of trouble street racing on weekends while attending college. The car drove me crazy breaking nosecones and mounts until an old man at the Bug-in told me about midmounts and a "Berg traction bar".


That's the guy who talked to me that day. Didn't realize until much later who it was. I just thought it was some old man.  Sometimes at 18 you sure are dumb.

I cut my thumb pretty badly while working during the summer, so my Dad had to take the '66 home. I went to the hospital for stitches and a tetanus shot. He said afterwards if he knew how much power that thing had he wouldn't have allowed me to buy a bug in the first place. "No wonder your driving record is so terrible."

The only thing I have left of the car is the Berg shifter.  The guy I sold it to wrecked it and made it into a baja.

Back in 1980, Mesa, Arizona was a cruising hotspot and a nightmare for the city fathers.  Main Street was a happening place.  People from all over the valley, and sometimes the entire southwest came to cruise, streetrace and meet girls.  Magazines gave it coverage.  Car Craft magazine used to devote a bunch of ink to the place. Upwards of 1000 cars would show up, with all sorts of styles from streetracers and musclecars to hydraulic equipped lowriders.  One weekend, we were sitting in our usual place, when an early big windowed sunroof car pulled up with black California plates.  A couple older guys (mid to late 20's is reallly old when you are 17) got out and started talking to us.  I don't remember their club name, there was a sticker in the quarter window, but one of them said "the little tanks" was what it translated to.  DKPII ?  Said they drove from Southern California.  I had a 1835 with kadrons in my 66 at the time, but they dusted me twice on a sidestreet, around the corner from the police station.  It wasn't even really a race.  By the top of second they were 5 cars out.  My feelings were a little hurt.  When we returned to the parking lot by Jack in the Box, they showed us the car in detail.  We spent a bunch of time talking about wedgemating, a Berg 5, and all sorts of stuff pertaining to hot street cars.  Put my high school hotrod to shame.  Car had ida's and Berg linkage, and the inside smelled new.  The doors closed with a touch.  I was impressed.  They hung around with us for a while and then cruised back and forth a few times.  Then they were gone.  27 years later, and I can still remember the smell, fresh paint and racing gas.  Later that week I ordered my first Berg shifter, thanks to them. 






Wow, I'm getting old.  Wheres my fiber tablets?

It's easier to cut and paste.

[Cesar Franco]

I had some good memories, but the ones that come more often to my mind are the day I took the car to the track and end up doing 4 60ft long whellies, the day I drove the car to the local VW show, and some guy asked me where was the trailer, over here a 11 sec street driven VW its someting people dont get to see often.

And the last one was a couple of weeks ago, I went to the local cruise with my wife and my 2 year old son, and seeing my kid sleeping on my wife´s lap on the way back home was priceless, my wife told me the bug was like Dr.Jekyl and Mr Hide, a complete beast on the track, but gentle enough to have a kid sleeping on it.

[Jason Foster]

  Boy I've got quite a few...
  A few quick ones here are from my child hood. When I was growing up my Dad and uncles had a small weekend shop in Bellflower. I used to gothere alot with my dad and watch and learn everything I could (translated that means I was in the way ALOT) One of my fondest memories was at about 11 or so when my Uncle Lonnie painted his '66 full fendered baja and he asked me to help him by making sure the hose never hit the car. Well I made very sure he had no troubles with that hose and enjoyed evry second of watching my uncle do his thing. Months later the baja was stolen stripped and returned never to be rebuilt....

  Another quickie is one time my Dad was doing something on a bus not sure what, and he had to work using a mirror to see what he was doing. Well after he was done with the job he was seeing backwards and having a very confusing time for several hours. I'll never forget his frustration getting his vision straightend out that day.


  Also another story from the shop... One day when I was about 10 or so my Dad and uncles went on a trip to the golf course but they had told the women they were going to the shop. I wanted to go but they were really going golfing and I couldnt understand why my dad wouldn't let me go to the shop.  So before they left I hid in the back of my parents Subaru wagon bound and determined to go to the shop that day. On the way to the golf course they stopped at the liquor store. After several minutes being stopped I poked my head up from the back of the car, just then my dad and uncles came from the store and saw me. Needless to say my dad wasn't to happy to see me and had to take me back home making them miss thier "T" time.

 Some others are first day I bought my '63, first day I bought my '65  Blowing a hole in #3 piston on the '63,  first drive in the '65 and so on and so on wow this is going to be a long thread I'm sure all of us are full of stories of GOLD...

[Sam K]

I recall yet another funny story. Back in the fall of 1996, I bought a "Super Street" tranny from Carter's gearbox Shop. I spent all day installing it in my '67 out in my parents driveway. About the time I finished up, my friends Eddie and Ross came over. I drove the car around the block a couple times and everything seemed cool. Eddie asked if he could drive it since his bug had been off the road for a few months and he missed it. I handed him the keys and he and Ross took off with my car. I stayed behind since it had no back seat and I needed to pick up my tools anyway. I should also mention that my parents house is on a corner and while the front is on a little side street, the side is on a fairly busy five lane wide street the slopes gently uphill away from their house. The top of the hill is about 1/4 mile away.  Anyway, I was cleaning up my tranny mess for a few minutes and I heard the distinct sound of a street race I looked towards Monaco (the busy street) just in time to see my bug  cresting the hill, pulling away from a yellow VR6 GTI. As both cars passed me Eddie shifted my bug into 4th and by now he was way ahead of the GTI and probably doing double the speed limit. A few minutes later he showed back up with my car. I wanted to be mad at him, but all he said was "the guy kept throwing revs at me. What else was I supposed to do?"

[javabug]

Back in 1980, Mesa, Arizona was a cruising hotspot and a nightmare for the city fathers.  Main Street was a happening place.  People from all over the valley, and sometimes the entire southwest came to cruise, streetrace and meet girls.  Magazines gave it coverage.  Car Craft magazine used to devote a bunch of ink to the place. Upwards of 1000 cars would show up, with all sorts of styles from streetracers and musclecars to hydraulic equipped lowriders.  One weekend, we were sitting in our usual place, when an early big windowed sunroof car pulled up with black California plates.  A couple older guys (mid to late 20's is reallly old when you are 17) got out and started talking to us.  I don't remember their club name, there was a sticker in the quarter window, but one of them said "the little tanks" was what it translated to.  DKPII ?  Said they drove from Southern California.  I had a 1835 with kadrons in my 66 at the time, but they dusted me twice on a sidestreet, around the corner from the police station.  It wasn't even really a race.  By the top of second they were 5 cars out.  My feelings were a little hurt.  When we returned to the parking lot by Jack in the Box, they showed us the car in detail.  We spent a bunch of time talking about wedgemating, a Berg 5, and all sorts of stuff pertaining to hot street cars.  Put my high school hotrod to shame.  Car had ida's and Berg linkage, and the inside smelled new.  The doors closed with a touch.  I was impressed.  They hung around with us for a while and then cruised back and forth a few times.  Then they were gone.  27 years later, and I can still remember the smell, fresh paint and racing gas.  Later that week I ordered my first Berg shifter, thanks to them. 

I love this story, remember it from the first time you posted it.

[Gabetion2000]

I remember a few years back , I was taking a drive to santa barbara. In the fast lane and all the sudden my gas pedal goes to the floor. Oh sh*t, my accelerator cable broke. Making it to the shoulder was fun. I finnaly get it over to the side of the road ( and not being as smart as I am today) I didnt have a spare cable with me. After a few failed attempts to rig something up I started to walk to the nearest exit . Luckily its only about a half mile. So I start walking and about half way there a guy in an old Mercedes pulls over. He offers me a ride and I refuse ( He looks kind of creepy). He wont take no for an answer, so I get in and he takes me to a gas station ( not to an abandoned building to kill me like I had Imagined). I thank him and make the dredded phone called to my mom to come and get me so I can repair my car. I get the cable , installed it and I on my way in 5 minutes.

[jamiep_jamiep]

Both my elder brothers (and my dad) have always been VW freaks and in around 1989 Mark & Lee built what you may call an '80's Brit Looker' - you know the kind of thing - lowered, graphics, colour coded everything, spatter paint detailed stock engine (well, apart fom flycut heads and a twin qp)- at the time it as cool! Anyway, I had been badgering them to let me help cos I was 15 and dying to cut my teeth on one of these cars... they were just finishing painting it and agreed to let me spray the wheels which were being detailed in black. So they set the compressor up for me and I got to work painting the wheels, not a long way away from where the freshly painted bug was parked. Part way through painting the wheels unbeknown to me something went 'wrong' with the gun and a small jet of black paint started spraying out at an angle all over the bug.

I was not popular, and without exagerrating remember running for my life from the garage down the back alley being chased by my brothers hell bent on payback... I had to go home some time, so they got it!

heres the car at an early UK Bug Jam (under the ownership of a friend who Mark sold it to at the time) - think this was around 91. Times have changed and styles reverted to better tastes!

[Zach Gomulka]

A few years back when I lived in Scottsdale, AZ a couple buddies of mine from Mexicali, Mexico invited me to go down for the VW event there (this is also where the "budussy" story occured). I was driving my 1776 powered '68 fastback aka The Sloback. Driving through Yuma, AZ I had under a half tank left, so I figured I was good to make it to Calexico, CA (on the US side across from Mexicali). Anyone that knows me, knows that I hate stopping for gas I failed to remember though, that the last half of the tank goes down waaayy faster than the first half About 15 miles or so from fuel, the car cuts out! But first, let me tell you about the fuel tank on said Sloback. For some reason (I assume to prevent fuel slosh?) there is a tall collar on the inside of the tank surrounding the outlet. You can pour a gallon of fuel in there, and it wont reach the oulet until it spills over the collar. So I quickly decide to voilently swing the car back and forth to spill needed fuel down to the outlet, all while doing 75mph on I-8 The plan works!!! The Sloback picks up the pace again! For a few miles that is... then I have to do it again... and again... and again! I figure I must have preformed this maneuver at least a half dozen times, and with a string of terrified traffic behind me I decide that enough is enough and I finally pull over about 4 miles from fuel. So close! It is dusk now, so I figure I need to get some gas and get on my way quickly. Having never hitch hiked before, I nervously put my thumb out... and low and behold the second car that passes me pulls over to give me a ride! Sweet!!! The driver is a mexican guy in an old Ford Fiesta, he graciously gives me a lift to the station. I pick up a gas can, fill it up, and walk over to the on ramp heading back towards The Sloback. This time with gas in one hand, I jut my other hand out with thumb up and the very first car that passes me pulls over to help!! This hitch hiking thing is easy!!! It is a middle aged white woman and a teenage black girl, the girl offers to get in the rear seat even though I tell her it isnt neccessary, but she hops back there anyway. So I take shotgun. Back on the road, by this time very dark out, we are chatting up and I look back to make eye contact with the girl and all I can see is eyes and teeth!!! She had a very dark complection, and her skin just disappeared in the night. I arrived back at my car, offered them some money which was flatly refused, fueled up, and was on my way

[Jim Ratto]

I remember a few years back , I was taking a drive to santa barbara. In the fast lane and all the sudden my gas pedal goes to the floor. Oh sh*t, my accelerator cable broke. Making it to the shoulder was fun. I finnaly get it over to the side of the road ( and not being as smart as I am today) I didnt have a spare cable with me. After a few failed attempts to rig something up I started to walk to the nearest exit . Luckily its only about a half mile. So I start walking and about half way there a guy in an old Mercedes pulls over. He offers me a ride and I refuse ( He looks kind of creepy). He wont take no for an answer, so I get in and he takes me to a gas station ( not to an abandoned building to kill me like I had Imagined). I thank him and make the dredded phone called to my mom to come and get me so I can repair my car. I get the cable , installed it and I on my way in 5 minutes.

I had a similar experience, except in Berkeley in my g-friend's Baja Bug. Throttle cable snapped on 13 freeway, had no spare. Dug up speaker wire from under rubber floor mat, attached it to carb and gas pedal with safety pins from her clothes (she was kind of a punk chick). Made it home and she drove it that way for a week or more.

[Jim Ratto]

ok no more happy memories, share some times when you wanted to push your car off a cliff. Or as Sarge says when you've "put screwdriver holes in the garage wall"

where do I start?

[Tony M]

Its all a good time - never had a bad time with my vw's - well ther was this one time.........

[Sam K]

I'll get into some good stories of VW hatred later, but for now I have a good accelerator cable story. I was riding with a friend in his '63 Bug equipped with a 1776 dual weber 40 engine. I also had decklid standoffs. The cable broke, but we were only a few blocks from my house. I had the bright idea to ride on the back bumper and hang on to the decklid with one arm while workung the throttle with my other arm. We strayed in first gear and since I was in control of the throttle, we went sloooww. It was a terrible idea and I instantly regretted it, but we made it home.

[Sam K]

Allright, here's a few "I hate this stupid car" stories. Once I spent all day replacing a broken nosecone and on the way home, I shifted into second a little aggressively and completely grenaded the transmission.   

Another time, I was driving home from work at night in a pretty good snow storm. As usual, my brakes were working poorly and my tires were probably a little bald. Some jackass cut in front of me and I had to downshift to not hit him. It was a little icy and my car started spinning. I bounced off one curb and spun across the road into another curb. I ended up bending three rims, bending the front beam, bending a rear axle, cracking a brake drum, and crushing the header. A low bug and high curbs do not mix. It did make it home, though, but it drove pretty funny!

Over the years, I've also blown eleven transmissions and several used 1600's. Sometimes I wonder why I love that little car so much. 

[iowa mark]

First post over here and it's about old times?
1968, summer and I have a new (to me) car. 1957 sunroof VW. I'm coming home from a date in a town a few miles north of mine. She "Just loves the whole roof opening, sitting on the back of the seat with her head out in the wind, waving at everyone cruising the main street." And later she showed me how much she "loved it". Something like 2:00 in the morning, nobody else on the road, the stars shining and that roof wide open. KAAY out of Little Rock and "Beaker Street" is on the AM radio. The drive home in the cool summer air with the rumble of that J.C. Whitney Cyclone header and the memorys of Joan, was sheer perfection.