Hot Rod VW General Stories Thread

[andrewlandon67]

How about a little change up, let's hear all of your guys' stories about your first experience in a really fast bug! I don't think I'll ever forget what it felt like to slap third home on a close ratio tranny for the first time and feel the front of the car start to go light at 65 mph, IDAs with 40mm vents causing a reverberation in the stripped out shell of the car I was in at 5k rpm. Just the memory of the big electric fuel pump starting to growl at the first click of the key and the starter being fought by race-gas-only levels of compression as the big 78mm crank begins to do its thing. Of all the times I drove that car on both the street and the drag strip, nothing will ever compare to that first time, where my life was well and truly ruined.

I can only assume you're referring to my '63... that is a fun little car. I need to get my act together and get it on the road again.

Damn right you do. I'm more than willing to give you a hand with that once the new tranny's in my car, you know.

[andrewlandon67]

I have had some fantastic times in my Bug. It never entered my mind in my youth that I would never get home in my trusty bug. We used to drive down to Santa Pod and Stratford on Avon and rag the 1776cc with engle 120 and twin 40 dells with my first performance box built by Jim Kaforski, it was built proof. It used to run 15 seconds all day long. 14 seconds with a hint of gas. Lining up next to Dave Rhoads at Avon park. I suppose taking a photo before the start wasn't the smartest idea.

Then came the Jim Kaforski special. He built an engine for me and a five speed box. Ran 12.5 seconds and you could comfortably sit on the motorway at 80 mph. We drove the car down to bug Jam without a problem. A 900 mile round trip. My Wife also drove the bug to the second European bug In for the Powder Puff.


When you live in Scotland people just look in bewilderment when you pass them on road. My Uncle Brian who is in his 70s saw my latest Bug sitting in the driveway and asked if we could go out for a drive. I ragged the car as I do, his face was a picture. We got back into town. At the time the British open was on and load of Americans were crossing the road they began cheering at the bug as we went along the road,obviously alcohol played a part . My Uncle cant stop talking about it

Awesome stories, pics, and car! I'm hoping for my car to be reliable and easy to drive like that at some point. I don't have a problem with it, but it'd be fun if my mom could hop in it and take it to the store or work if she needed to!

[andrewlandon67]

So for the past few weeks I've been doing some house/dogsitting for some family while they're on vacation, and that has included driving my '67 around 25 miles too and from work. Their house is up in the foothills, overlooking a valley straight out of a western movie with a commute that wraps around the south end of a huge man-made reservoir and back up over a ridge before dropping into the lower end of their valley. While the scarred and washboarded dirt road up to the house could be more civilised, the sounds of my bug echoing off the hillsides on my way to or from work has definitely helped make the commute a little shorter. The road around the lake is perfectly winding without being too technical, a couple of sharper turns force some braking, but the long road along the east side up to the first dam is comfortable both at the speed limit of 45 mph or considerably higher when there's nobody in front of you. The thrash of the valvetrain, the staccato of the exhaust, and the burble of the 44 IDFs transitioning to a howl whenever they're opened up a bit combine with being pushed back in the seat and the nose of the car going light as you keep an eye out for the slower traffic ahead. Two fun right-handers and you drop down the ridgeline onto the plains, the city in front of you all meticulously planned and paved, you know you'll feel better this evening when you get to climb that hill again and see the beginnings of a sunset start to color the lake purple. You might even keep the music off and just listen to the car and the rush of the wind as you string together the short sweepers before coming around the south end of the lake, past the campground full of overweight RVs and speedboats, and making the second hard climb over the second, taller group of ridges just to drop down through a series of left-handers into the valley and you know you'll be back at the house soon. You promise the car that its work is almost done for the day, and you promise to yourself that you'll make a run up the whole eastern side of the lake soon, maybe early on a Sunday morning while it's still cool out.

[j-f]

So for the past few weeks I've been doing some house/dogsitting for some family while they're on vacation, and that has included driving my '67 around 25 miles too and from work. Their house is up in the foothills, overlooking a valley straight out of a western movie with a commute that wraps around the south end of a huge man-made reservoir and back up over a ridge before dropping into the lower end of their valley. While the scarred and washboarded dirt road up to the house could be more civilised, the sounds of my bug echoing off the hillsides on my way to or from work has definitely helped make the commute a little shorter. The road around the lake is perfectly winding without being too technical, a couple of sharper turns force some braking, but the long road along the east side up to the first dam is comfortable both at the speed limit of 45 mph or considerably higher when there's nobody in front of you. The thrash of the valvetrain, the staccato of the exhaust, and the burble of the 44 IDFs transitioning to a howl whenever they're opened up a bit combine with being pushed back in the seat and the nose of the car going light as you keep an eye out for the slower traffic ahead. Two fun right-handers and you drop down the ridgeline onto the plains, the city in front of you all meticulously planned and paved, you know you'll feel better this evening when you get to climb that hill again and see the beginnings of a sunset start to color the lake purple. You might even keep the music off and just listen to the car and the rush of the wind as you string together the short sweepers before coming around the south end of the lake, past the campground full of overweight RVs and speedboats, and making the second hard climb over the second, taller group of ridges just to drop down through a series of left-handers into the valley and you know you'll be back at the house soon. You promise the car that its work is almost done for the day, and you promise to yourself that you'll make a run up the whole eastern side of the lake soon, maybe early on a Sunday morning while it's still cool out.

The sound of a hop up Flat4 is something 

Could you post pictures of your commute trip? Looks interesting for an European living in a green forestry area 

[andrewlandon67]

So for the past few weeks I've been doing some house/dogsitting for some family while they're on vacation, and that has included driving my '67 around 25 miles too and from work. Their house is up in the foothills, overlooking a valley straight out of a western movie with a commute that wraps around the south end of a huge man-made reservoir and back up over a ridge before dropping into the lower end of their valley. While the scarred and washboarded dirt road up to the house could be more civilised, the sounds of my bug echoing off the hillsides on my way to or from work has definitely helped make the commute a little shorter. The road around the lake is perfectly winding without being too technical, a couple of sharper turns force some braking, but the long road along the east side up to the first dam is comfortable both at the speed limit of 45 mph or considerably higher when there's nobody in front of you. The thrash of the valvetrain, the staccato of the exhaust, and the burble of the 44 IDFs transitioning to a howl whenever they're opened up a bit combine with being pushed back in the seat and the nose of the car going light as you keep an eye out for the slower traffic ahead. Two fun right-handers and you drop down the ridgeline onto the plains, the city in front of you all meticulously planned and paved, you know you'll feel better this evening when you get to climb that hill again and see the beginnings of a sunset start to color the lake purple. You might even keep the music off and just listen to the car and the rush of the wind as you string together the short sweepers before coming around the south end of the lake, past the campground full of overweight RVs and speedboats, and making the second hard climb over the second, taller group of ridges just to drop down through a series of left-handers into the valley and you know you'll be back at the house soon. You promise the car that its work is almost done for the day, and you promise to yourself that you'll make a run up the whole eastern side of the lake soon, maybe early on a Sunday morning while it's still cool out.

The sound of a hop up Flat4 is something 

Could you post pictures of your commute trip? Looks interesting for an European living in a green forestry area 

I'll make a stop on my way back up tonight and get some pics of the road along the lakeside, but I have a couple recent ones of the valley that the house is in. It's weird seeing it this green in August, but it's been an extremely wet year, but I'm not complaining.





I hope those give you an idea of what it looks like up here!

[j-f]

Thanks!

Looks more like southern half of France than over here, the Belgian Ardennes 

[andrewlandon67]

Here are some better pictures I got tonight, this is on the south end of the lake.





In the second picture you can barely see the top of the dam at the far north end of the lake, I think it's upwards of 6 miles long all told, lots of hiking on both sides, with one of the best driving roads I've ever encountered snaking its way up the eastern side.



That's probably the best picture I've taken of my car in a looooong time.

While the length of the commute is slightly irritating, compounded by the RVs and weekend warriors towing their ski boats up the hills, mornings like this one make it all worthwhile. Just an easy cruise at 60ish mph, windows open all the way for a cool breeze and the 1 1/2 inch heater boxes opened up to provide some comfort as it was actually a bit brisk, finally.

[j-f]

I could definitively live there. Beatiful place 

[andrewlandon67]

I could definitively live there. Beatiful place 

Colorado's a pretty special place... the older I get the more of it I find myself appreciating, even the empty plains in the eastern part of the state have their own kind of beauty. There are plenty of gorgeous places in this world, but I'm not sure I could live anywhere else. Once I graduate from college in a few years I'm gonna take a few weeks and see it all in one giant road trip.

[mg]

Just searched stories and this thread appeared...

Back in Anaheim in the early 70s when I was 16 I had a beater cal look 63 bug.
Lowered with no bumpers and an 8 track player. 
My neighbor asked one day if he could take the bug for a short drive to check it out.
I gave him the keys and he returned an hour later with a fix it ticket.

The local police had been him pulled over for no bumpers.
So I reinstalled the bumpers found a cop and got the fix it ticket signed off.
But since I was young and dumb I did not realize I needed to send the signed off fix it ticket into the local police station.

A short time later my neighbor got a warrant for his arrest because I had failed send in the fix it ticket.
I think the bail was $180.
The neighbor had to go to court and pled guilty with reason.
He repeated the story above to the judge and the case was dismissed.

I was lucky over my 40 years of VW ownership I never got 1 ticket for anything.
But I sure did have a lot of crazy fun experiences with dozens of bugs.