1990-1993 (FORMERLY 4 YEARS- NOW CONDENSED TO 3)

[Rick Meredith]

I promise, next segment, guns out.

[ Attachment: You are not allowed to view attachments ]

[kafercup]

I promise, next segment, guns out.



Hey, Jim almost had the hairstyle at one point. [ Attachment: You are not allowed to view attachments ]

[Brian Rogers]

Please Jim don't leave us hanging. We need the rest of the story.

[Jim Ratto]

November 1990, Held At Gunpoint in Norwalk

It must have been a bit after midnight now, as I remember it, as we pulled off I-5 in Norwalk. I think that Motel 6 just off the freeway is at Carmenita? Anyway, it was the first chain motel that I saw somewhere in L.A., after hours on the highway, coming down from Bay Area. Why on earth we didn't look at a map, and figure out we should have just headed east once we got to 210 freeway, I don't know. Probably too busy owning being 19 (aka knowing more than we thought we did).
We rolled into the Motel 6 lot and got out. I figured out, despite not knowing where we were, this probably wasn't a smart place to stay, just based on noise of big rigs mere yards from the motel. We ambled into the silent office and waited. Paid for a room, and then we agreed it was time for another junk food run. When we pulled off I noticed there was a Jack in the Box just across the intersection. In all seriousness, we could have walked.

And we should have.

We hopped back in my Bug to drive the 150 ft and as we entered the parking lot, a blindingly bright light illuminated us from behind. I glanced in the mirror and only saw white. Then red and blue. Another squad car rushed us from ahead. We were clamped into position by two cop cars, with all lights on us. A loudspeaker ordered us to show our hands outside the car.

I almost pissed myself. In the time it took me to look at Frank and stick both hands out of the driver's side window, an officer was now at my LR wheel, sidearm drawn. I was shaking and though I knew we had done nothing wrong, was still scared to pieces. Another officer had his sights drawn on Frank from the opposite side.

Here we were. Two dumb suburban oddball misfit kids, in a hot rodded dorky VW, on our innocuous way to a VW show. We wouldn't even know how to cause the trouble we seemed to be in.

The officers separated us and checked ID and questioned us and soon realized we were as clean as they come. Our stories matched so we were set free.
The back story is a blue VW was seen in the proximity of a burglary nearby.

We returned to our cheeseburgers and cokes, understandably shaken.

Once back at the motel, things went only marginally better. All night, just outside the window, there was more law enforcement activity. Not sure of what nature, but the Bug was parked right there, backed in and adjacent to the in-wall a/c unit, and all night, at that very spot outside, all kinds of seedy sorts were getting busted. It all made for a stomach churning, sleepless Friday night.

Next leg: From East LA, through the desert to Palm Springs, Blythe all the points between to Phoenix. We avoid worm-fearing transients, pick up a hitch hiking old VW drag racer and mow down an army of tarantulas crossing I-10 at night.

Jim

[Jim Ratto]

I promise, next segment, guns out.



Hey, Jim almost had the hairstyle at one point. [ Attachment: You are not allowed to view attachments ]

Senior year 1989
You can see the engine case on the floor in my bedroom, bored for 94's, etc. Didn't really impress chicks.

[Taylor]

I worked the window of Carl's Jr. at Carmenita and the 5 in Norwalk in high school.  2 litre, IDA '65 parked out front.  Jeff Denham dropped my head's off there once.  All gone now with the highway widening project.

[Brian Rogers]

Thank you for another episode of:
" Four Years "

[Jim Ratto]

November 1990, No Sleep and Eastbound

The next morning, after about 38 minutes of sleep, was slow going. We loaded our bags into the back seat of the Bug and eyed the Jack in the Box again, for coffee. We sat at a small table in there, with my same old wrinkly CA map sprawled all across it. We could see the Arizona/CA state border, at the RH edge of the map. But there were multiple highways to get you across, with the main ones looking like I-40, I-10 and I-8. We were far south, by many hours, of the intersection with I-40 east, which connected with CA 58 somewhere that looked pretty bleak on the map (these areas were always easy to pick out on a map [even before Google maps], as the "city names" are always just one word, and often not more than two syllables, and denoted by this little open "dot", with the name in the city in the smallest print anywhere on the map. Also, there were hardly any roads of any kind. And the geographical features always were referred with the words "Dead", "Death", "Sheep" or "Hole." Like "Dead Man's Hole Mountain" or "Sheep Death Gulch", or a less appropriate combination of said words....). Interstate 8 was too far south, just bordering Mexico, and also looked to run through some pretty bleak, and maybe too exotic lands.

We hoped I-10 east  would eventually get us near Phoenix.
Before we set off due east, Frank asked if we could try to find Gene Berg Enterprises. Sounded like a good idea, since we were so close. I had never been to the shop, but I knew it was somewhere near Disneyland, based on the invite in the first few pages of their latest catalog I had at home. I knew it was off Bill Road, or was it Bell road? If we got to Disneyland, we could drive around a bit and find it. It was on some fruit street by Disney... easy. Wrong. We drove south on I-5 and exited at Harbor or Katella. Lots of signs for which way to Disneyland. But Caltrans failed to make exit signs or directions to GBE. Shame on them. No respect for these VW nerd kids trying to make a pilgrimage to go ask dumb questions and buy nothing. After a half hour of circling tourism hell-traffic, we got back on the freeway, headed north. Frank kept the map open on his lap, with his finger on the intersection of I-5 and I-10. I asked him "You think we'll miss it or something? Pretty sure I can remember the number "10"..." He ignored me and just stared out the window.
In an hour's time, we were now headed east on Interstate 10, now just reaching the heart of the inland area, east of Los Angeles. We maintained a good speed, owning the left lanes, and powering through Covina, Pomona, Ontario, San Bernardino. The landscape changed once again, as we gradually descended into the desert. The gritty industrial feel gave way to a more serene, yet pretty powerful and foreboding landscape. It was mid November, and just a night ago, sweatshirts were zipped up tight and fingers were sore with the cold in the car. Today it was windows rolled down, and vent windows cranked and shirt sleeves. Despite the warm temperature, the oil temp was barely nudging 180F. The golden overcast cocktail of marine layer and smog in Los Angeles gave way to sapphire skies and desert sunlight. Everything took on a vivid intensity. We were now just NW of Palm Springs and due for a break. At CA 111, Frank requested we check out Palm Springs.

more later.

[Andrew]

Great story, Jim. Thanks for sharing.

[alex d]

The story just keeps getting better, can't wait for the followup!

[Jim Ratto]

November 1990, Strangers in the CA Desert

The stop in Palm Springs amounted to a milkshake at a Baskin Robbins 31 Flavors and a fuel stop, then back on the highway, further into the eastern badlands of California. Often, California is cursed with this imagery of sun-kissed palm trees, friendly and wide-open beaches and nothing but fun and endless summers. Well most of California isn't like that at all. And where we were, was the exact inverse. Cinder cones and desert scrub in place of crystal ocean waves and swaying palm trees. No tanned girls scampering in bikinis- instead, ravens picking at roadkill carcasses. The sun began to fall behind our backs, and with it, the warm temperature of the day. In an hour or so, it was time to pull off for fuel again (not knowing where we were or when gasoline would be available, I figured stopping often was a good idea. Before those ravens would be eyeing our carcasses.)

We ended up pulling off in Blythe CA. And I mean right off. The little town didn't give off that friendly, hometown, we've got homemade chicken pot pie and iced tea waiting for you. It just seemed off. Still today I can't put my finger on it, but the tone was all wrong. We pulled into an Exxon, and I went in to pay the cashier. Returning to the Bug, I found Frank had made a new acquaintance. A man made of leather-skin, dressed in an open flannel shirt and cutoff jeans was begging Frank to let him in my Bug. No shoes either. The guy was frantic and meant business. Screaming something about the worms would be here soon and find him and he's not going through that again. Frank looked at me through the windshield and rolled his eyes. I just ignored Mr Leather and raised the hood and began to fill the tank. Now the guy sees me and begins pleading with me to get him out of town before the worms find him here. I just looked at him, his eyes frenzied on some kind of synthetic party powder, and said "I'm sorry we're staying in town. We're of no help to you. Try the next guy"

Of course I was lying. As I strapped in and lit the 2 liter off, Frank asked me "How'd you get rid of him?"
I said "Told him we were staying here tonight."
"Smart thinkin' Lincoln"

We hit the onramp, eastbound. The weather was still cooling off, and it had been a few hours of doldrums, so I was going to run it up the tach some. And then we found the next guy....

But this time, all looked normal. All looked OK, the guy had a gas can and didn't seem to be on 5 hallucinogens at once. Would I want to be on foot, as dusk approached out here? We pulled over and asked him what was up. The guy asked if we were going towards Quartzsite, Arizona. We don't know, is that on the way to Phoenix? Are we on the right road to get to Phoenix? The guy laughed and seemed alright. He'd run out of fuel somewhere just around stateline and needed a ride. What the hell.
We let the guy climb into the back seat with his red gas can and set off. As we upshifted at 6000 into third gear, our passenger said "Goes good. What's in it?" So I, not thinking this guy would know a Weber from a weedeater, said "It's got a bigger motor than stock with two carbs."
And to my surprise the guy asked "Like a 2110?" Now most guys that don't know much about fast VW's always ask if the car has a "Porsh motor" in it (not knowing the catastrophe installing one of those into a Bug is, for little return in oomph). And most guys that used to know something at one time, a long time ago, or had a buddy, always ask "Is it a 2180?" as it seems every neighborhood street in the 1970's had at least 3-4 guys that ran a 2180 in something. So it was very interesting that this guy asked if my then motor was a 2110. So I explained no, it was a 94 bore and 74 stroker, to which he replied "Oh you're not one of those Berg guys that says 94's don't work huh?"
Obviously the guy was OK in our book.
We told him where we were going, and asked him what involvement he had with VW's. Apparently he campaigned a KG at some point, a few years back with some other guy. Don't remember now all the who's and how's and which car. It made a small world out of the big ugly unknown. He even asked if we ran into the worm guy back in town.
Soon we approached his To#¤ta 4-runner, hazards still blinking away in the increasing darkness. We let him out and said good bye, good luck. And off we went.

At the state border I took this award winning picture

[andrewlandon67]

Wow Jim, this latest installment might just be the best one yet! One of these days I'd like to digitize some of the 35mm film pictures I've gotten of my bug over the past few years (because I'm a hipster weirdo with an old car and bad taste in cameras), but I doubt they're anywhere near as good as that one! This thread has definitely helped keep me inspired with my car throughout this long, dark Colorado winter. Keep up the storytelling!

[Brian Rogers]

Awaiting the next installment.
Thank you!

[Jim Ratto]

November 1990, As Night Falls and Nature Crawls

And so the journey continues-

As darkness pushed out the light, we rolled on, eastward, on I-10, now quite bored. And cold again. We were now in western extremes of the Arizona desert- somewhere neither Frank or I had been. This was the farthest I had officially driven my '67. Like the night before, the car was thriving on the cold November night air, eating mile after mile. This part of the trip is not the sharpest in my bad memory now, almost 27 years later, maybe because of the monotony of this part of the drive. For the next few hours the only action was this...
As we were about an hour into Arizona, I'm guessing 50 miles or a little more east of stateline, we began to smell a real weird smoky smell. I can best remember it being like burnt cheese and hair. At the same time, we seemed to be dodging really odd small tumbleweeds in highway. Frank caught a better glimpse, looking at the illuminated shoulder of the highway. They weren't tumbleweeds. There were seemingly thousands of grey tarantulas wandering in the highway lanes and we were driving through and over them. Now I knew where the smell came from. It was nauseating. We pulled off at next exit and I looked at dual quiet mufflers. It wasn't as bad as I had pictured in my mind, but the top of the cans had a few legs cooked on.

Next few hours got us into city limits of Phoenix. No problems with police or street zombies this night. Just a night of much needed sleep.

If you've been following along, I'll say this about the next day... we saw first hand what real California Look VW's have been and always will be, all about. The next day, at the event, had a pretty profound effect on the two of us, watching some pretty now-famous cars run in anger. Burned into my psyche still, now 26+ years later.

Thanks for reading, more later on.

[Sam K]

I've really enjoyed reading this story so far. I find myself checking in a couple times a day for more updates. I've been yearning to take a road trip in a bug for many years now and your inspiring me to make some plans. Thank you. 

[Jeff68]

Jim...I've been following along and really love the stories. You're doing a great job writing your experiences, thoughts and memories about what you've done with your car over the years. I agree that This IS really what Cal-Look VW's should be about in my opinion. I've not been driving my car for three years as my life had gotten in the way (remarried, birth of a daughter, home remodeling work bah blah) but this forum and your posting your stories / experiences with your car have inspired me to get my a$$. I'm going to do some upgrades to the car and get on with driving my car. I live in Florida and I want to drive my car in to some really cool and even less travelled places with it....Florida has really nice coastline / beaches, old historic towns, scary undeveloped places, swamps, etc..also  has great race tracks that I want to race on with the car (Bradenton Florida). Have to get going on the car now and make more memories with it!!

Anyway, thanks for writing your stories! Cheers

[Jim Ratto]

You guys are too cool. I am glad my goofy earlier life driving all over the world in a cobbled together car from high school is inspiring guys to turn the key and go have fun. I've been really busy with work and stuff going on with my kids myself, and haven't been out in the car as much as I'd like to be lately.

The really cool thing about this era to me was that I was pretty free to go experience as much as I wanted. I decided how I spent my free time and the little bit of money I made. I had more time than I did money, which was kind of the best situation, as it gave me the opportunity to listen and learn and try stuff, mostly on the cheap. Most of my big stroker motor was made up of hand me downs or new stuff that I was able to get fairly cheaply. This was a time all about discovering and "firsts" when it came to hot rodding VW's and going to events and stuff like that. After you've done this stuff for years and years and years, the shock factor kind dies off and it isn't the vivid experience it was the first time around. The first time I rode in a seriously fast Bug, the first time I saw a street car go up on its stinger, the first V8 I street-raced and beat, even the crappy firsts, first flat cam, first broken valve adjuster, my first trip down the strip was a real embarrassment.

But back to Phoenix. I'll share this picture from the day. We did finally make it to the show, that Sunday in November 1990. After we went to the wrong track....    more later.

[speedwell]

dave rhoads 's car??

[Brian Rogers]

Wow can't wait for the next installment.   

[Brian Rogers]

Ah please Jim it's Sunday almost 3 weeks and waiting

[Brian Rogers]

This seems to be a monthly thing. At this rate it'll be 4 years before the whole story is out. Nuts

[beetletom]

This seems to be a monthly thing. At this rate it'll be 4 years before the whole story is out. Nuts

Worth the wait!
Love the stories and adventures the old cal look guys have had

[karl h]

This seems to be a monthly thing. At this rate it'll be 4 years before the whole story is out. Nuts

well the thread title says it.....

[Jim Ratto]

This seems to be a monthly thing. At this rate it'll be 4 years before the whole story is out. Nuts

Worth the wait!
Love the stories and adventures the old cal look guys have had

Old? 

Sorry, this is a backburner exercise. I'm not a professional journalist. When I have time, I will continue. Thanks,

[Brian Rogers]

Thanks Jim. I'm just the impatient type. You can ask Dean Kirsten about me being a pain about the engine books.
Thanks again.

[Jim Ratto]

November 1990, We Make It To Phoenix (But Where the Hell is the Race?)

The night we rolled into Phoenix, we had passed an exit for racetrack west of town, "PIR" which we saw and confirmed with one another, that's where we're going tomorrow for the show and drags. So the next morning, after using the Motel 6's nice white terry-cloth towels to clean the road grime off my car, we caught Interstate 10 west, I'm guessing for 30 minutes or so. The freeway was eerily empty. We expected to be hemmed in by trucks towing racecar trailers and other VW's, as we got off the freeway. But strangely- we were all alone. Not only were there no VW's to be seen anywhere, there were no cars period. Here we were, in a different state, having travelled for two days to get here, been held at gunpoint even.... all for nothing? I shut the car off and we sat there completely perplexed, and beginning to feel a little pissed. Obviously somebody made a mistake somewhere. I was pretty sure I had the date correct. We knew it was really Sunday. But we had no idea why we were sitting there, the only living breathing souls for a few miles.
We thought, maybe we were early? I wasn't sure, but I thought AZ was on a different time than CA. Neither of us wore a watch and my car didn't have a clock. All we knew was that the sun was up. Gut feeling was, none of these assumptions were correct, there was something really dumb going on. But since Frank nor I had a better answer, we sat there for another half hour or so. After which a state trooper rolled up. Oh no, not more misunderstandings with the cops.
The officer informed us, we were at the wrong track (there was another one? See how things went when you were a dense 19 year old before the internet, Google and GPS?). Where we wanted to be was Firebird Raceway, southeast of where we were sitting like dim wits. We thanked him and got back on I-10, now headed east.
For some reason (again, we didn't know what time it was, but it felt like the day was burning down fast), I felt like we were going to be late. Late for what? Not sure but I wooded the go pedal. The VDO speedometer was indicating about 110 mph (optimistic, I ran 195/60 radials up front). Because of the early hour, traffic was really light, almost non existent, and we cooked off the miles. The officer told us we had some ground to cover, at least an hour's drive, after all.
In less than that, we arrived. Among us were the familiar signs of a VW event. Open trailers heaped with raggedy swap meet parts. Drag Manxes on open trailers, and lots of street cars waiting in line. No mistake this time.
I hadn't any intention of doing so, but Frank talked me into paying to bring my car into the show. We parked sort of in the center of the goings on, and got to work doing a spit shine on the car. I had bought a spray bottle of some Wax Shop magic spray at work, and had a few left over Motel 6 hand towels stashed in the trunk. After about 20 minutes, the Adriatic Blue gleamed nicely in the morning light. Parked a few rows over, I recognized Bill Schwimmer's coral ragtop.
Frank and I walked the show, sizing up the other cars in the show, and then headed to the staging lanes.
And there we found two cars that would change the hobby and even the industry over the next 20 years; Dave Rhoads' green '64 and Dave Mason's out-of-control black '62.
You have to realize- in 1990, the lanes weren't packed full of traditional, clean California Look street cars. You saw the Pro Turbo cars and lots of full-blooded drag sedans and lots of drag buggies. But street legal cars that were true to what the Cal Look used to be, complete with genuine BRM's like you saw in old yellowed magazines? It was an event. And here were two of them- sitting just so. Rhoads' car looked subtle, and menacing at the same time. It was a real misfit at the time. Unlike the graphics and weird paint trends that were the rage, his car was one tasteful shade of green. And it was smooth and tidy and all business. I saw the car a few months prior in Costa Mesa, parked at Jamboree. But here it was sporting an open stinger and Firestone slicks. This was a serious effort, obviously. But what sticks in my brain, was the attractiveness of that smooth green paint, the lack of tinsel and the mags. We had read about cars like these, from the 1970's, but here was the real deal in the flesh.
And then Mason's car. You want to talk about a misfit? Frank hadn't seen either car yet. I didn't say much at first, I just let him take Mason's car in for himself and let him process what he was looking at. From some angles, you could easily be fooled, and think it was a clean, stockish black early car. But the more you looked, the more shocking the car was. Frank picked up on the car's intentions quickly. The rollbar, the Berg shifter, the huge, rude pipe jutting out from under the running board and the grooved slicks kind of gave that away. Not to mention that blue bottle riding where normally grandma would have her grandkids ride.

We were about to watch these svelte VW sedans absolutely blow our minds wide open.

[67paulo]

Thanks for sharing the stories Jim, We have all been waiting patiently...........

[Good-Old-Ragtop60]

Jim, you made my day...again!
Thanks for continuing the Story.
(still would be an awesome book to read)

[karl h]

reminds me of sitting in a rentacar at the entrance of palmdale raceway with nobody there (i was way too early)

[Jeff68]

I remember reading HotVws and looking at the cars in the mag back in the mid /late eighties and early nineties....I remember all of the feature cars with the graphicked paint jobs with mild chrome engines in them. At the time I really wasn't aware or think of the term Cal-Look much. I just knew that the cars I preferred were the simpler / understated looking ones that occasionally showed up in the magazine. I would look at these cars the most, and even though they were not as popular I thought they were the coolest - bad ass cars....I wanted to build one!