Life on the frozen tundra of South Dakota Life on the frozen tundra of South Dakota

Chapter 2 - Purchasing My Bug

Chapter 2 - Purchasing My Bug

I had always kind of liked Volkswagens and had couple of friends who owned them. After looking at a few other kinds of cars (a '77 Mustang hatchback and a '76 Fiat X-19 were particularly memorable lemons that I thankfully passed upon,) I finally made up my mind that I wanted a Volkswagen. I purchased issues of Hot VWs magazine which I would pour over in study hall. A Karmann Ghia convertible was the model I desired the most, however these were hard to come by and certainly not within my budget. At the time the lowly Beetle was easy to find in the classifieds and within my price range, so that turned out to be my objective.

My father and I looked at a few different Bugs available for sale, and I decided that one particular '75 Super Beetle was my best choice. My father didn't agree with me, but he realized that I tend to learn the hard way, so he decided to let me purchase it. It was painted metallic lime, which while distinctive, was not an overly pleasing color. It also was the first year for fuel injection in a Bug. In 1975 fuel injection was a still-to-be-proven technology. When it worked, it worked well. As I was to later discover, when it didn't work it made for some expensive hair-pulling repair. Nevertheless, I decided that this Bug was the one for me and plunked down $1200 of my hard-earned cash. I was to discover that my remaining $300 would just about cover my liability insurance for the next six months.

As a coincidence, I bought the car from a couple who lived just a few houses down from the house I currently own. That's not the reason I bought my current house, but it is an interesting fact. For me anyway. You more than likely don't care. So anyway...

I picked up my new car on a Friday night after supper. My father was working, so my mother dropped me off and left me to get the Bug home. My first challenge was that the Bug was a 4 speed manual transmission, and outside of an emotionally scarring incident when I was twelve in which my grandfather demanded I drive his truck down the highway, I had never successfully driven a stick-shift. Intellectually I knew what to do, but I had yet to develop the coordination to allow me to shift smoothly. After killing it about fifty times on the 2.5 mile drive home, I finally made it.

My second challenge was that my father had not yet called the insurance company to let them know about the purchase, so I was allowed to drive the car home but no further. This being a Friday night, and the insurance company not being open until Monday morning, I had to let the car sit the whole weekend. This darn near killed me; I finally had my own car but I wasn't allowed to drive it. I spent many hours that weekend sitting in the driver's seat and listening to the radio, or backing down the driveway and pulling back up near the garage. Our driveway was only about 20 feet long, so looking back on things I can see how pathetic I must have looked.

Finally Monday morning came and I awoke excited to drive my car to school for the first time. My bubble was burst as I was told that my dad wouldn't call the insurance company until later in the morning, and I couldn't drive the Bug until after that point in time. I felt like I was going to die right there and then. If you took the anticipation of all my Christmas mornings and rolled them up into one big ball, it would have still been smaller than how bad I wanted to drive my new car! I don't know how I made it through that day, but somehow I did. I walked home from school and after verifying with my parents that I was now insured, was finally allowed to drive my car.

It would take me a couple of weeks until I eventually became comfortable with the clutch, but I didn't care. I spent most of that afternoon killing the engine and having other drivers curse me, but I didn't care. The metallic lime color was visually offensive, but I didn't care. I was the king of the world, confined only by the range of my gas tank and my curfew, it being a school night and all. But king nonetheless...

This car and I would have many, many adventures together. I received my first speeding ticket in it. I had my first accident with it. I also had my second, third and fourth accident with it. Come to think of it, one would assume I had a big target painted on the side. Boy I beat this thing up. When I purchased it, it had one paint chip on the hood. After a year or so, well, the pictures speak for themselves. All of these pictures on this page were taken after I had owned the car about eight months. All of the damage you see had been inflicted during that time. Some more damage came after these pictures were taken.

Oh the things I learned with this car:

I learned how loud an air-cooled Volkswagen engine can be when the exhaust falls off of it. I learned basic mechanical skills.

I discovered that when the master cylinder fails, you can become quite adept at rapidly pumping the brakes every time you need to stop. I discovered you can drive the car this way for a month until you save up enough money to have the brakes fixed. I also discovered that when you do finally take it in for repair, you should tell the mechanic about needing to pump the brakes less they drive the car through the back wall of the shop.

I learned how when the air sensor on the fuel injection fails you can remove the air cleaner, jam a screwdriver in the intake to hold the butterfly valve open, run around and start the car, run back and remove the screw driver and replace the air cleaner. I learned that by having to do this every time you start the car, you can execute this maneuver rather quickly. I learned that this ritual does not impress dates. I learned that when you finally get sick of performing this routine, it is quite expensive to pay a mechanic to remove the fuel injection and replace it with a carburetor set up. I also learned that it runs way better once you do this.

I learned that dating in a Volkswagen is akin to birth control, as the physical size is an imposing obstacle to any nocturnal activities. I learned that you should date girls who own bigger cars. (I no longer support this second idea for unmarried couples, but hey I was in high school and that matched my viewpoint at the time.)

I learned that air-cooled engines don't produce enough heat to properly warm the interior of a vehicle during South Dakota winters. I also learned that it is the passenger's responsibility to scrape the frost from the inside of the windows while you're concentrating on peering at traffic through the only clear 3" x 5" portion of the glass.

I learned that it doesn't take a whole lot of stereo system to make the inside of a VW very loud. I also learned what happens if you do put a whole lot of stereo system in one.

I begin the process of fixing up the Bug...

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This page last updated on 07/11/2018