The full story......... In early January 1999, a good friend (volkswagen freak) of mine, Scott and I were hanging out a lot and rebuilding an engine. The stories I could tell about Scott could go on forever, but I digress. He knew another guy who was having some kind of breakdown and so was selling all of his volkswagen stuff and moving (a tragedy in anyone’s language). I didn’t know the guy but I knew his car and thought it looked cool. It had a two-tone, purple and white paint job and nose down attitude….sound familiar? From what Scott said, the guy was basically giving his stuff away. This actually turned out to be the case with most of his stuff. He only wanted $300 for the car and when I mentioned the prospect to my wife it was, much to my surprise, given positive consideration. Things were starting to look good, upon inspection my wife discovered two important things. One, she loved the colour and two, the guy who owned it had a dog (she is obsessed with dogs). The first of these facts continues to be an important factor in me owning the car. So we bought the car and got it registered ASAP. During this process we fitted the type 3 brakes and cleaned up the interior as much as possible. We finally had a cool looking, “Noddy light”, purple bug. During the following months a stereo was installed and various little things were done. She was leaking oil a little and some of the tinware wasn’t where it should have been (ie in the car). What I should have done: taken it to a volkswagen mechanic and had it tuned. What I did do: try to drive it 300km without all the tinware. This was a big mistake, however, we did learn some important lessons. It was holidays and we were going to visit my aunt in Canberra, roughly 3.5 hours drive from my home and freeway all the way. Half an hour out of Sydney we stopped because I thought I heard a grinding noise. We were a little nervous about the car. It turned out just to be Led Zeppelin (Intro to “Celebration”), however, it should have been an omen. 10 km out of Goulburn, over half way, the car started losing power. We limped in to Goulburn and located a Volkswagen guy to be told it was only running on three cylinders and probably wouldn’t make it to Canberra, let alone there and back to Sydney. Dreading the thought of a towing bill, we decided to risk it and drive home to Sydney, returning to Canberra in the other car we own. In retrospect, I think the car would have comfortably made it to Canberra and then home, if somewhat slowly. On the way home we averaged 60km/h, but the car didn’t complain and started just as eagerly a week later as it had ran all the way home. My aunt then referred to the car as the “purple bomb”, a very unkind phrase as far as I was concerned considering she had a beetle that suffered exactly the same problem some thirty years ago. However, hers was driven in this state, for around 3000 km in very hot weather before having the engine replaced, and not because it broke down I might add. Upon my return to Sydney after the holiday, the engine in the car was swapped for the 1640 Scott and myself had rebuilt earlier. This engine didn’t really run that well, went through plugs and leaked oil. A lot of these problems related to mistakes made during the rebuild. Much later I found out that one of the pistons we’d been given by a dodgy local repairer, (to replace a damaged part) was in fact standard (85.5 mm) instead of overbore (87 mm) as we’d been told. Ask me privately where not to go if you want work done on your VW in my area. This engine was finally taken out due the teeth stripping off the flywheel (wrong starter). In the following months, the engine I originally had in the car, was pulled down to fix the problem. It turned out that the missing tinware made cylinder No.2 overheat and the rings broke causing blowby. I was very lucky the pieces had remained in position and not twisted, gouging into the cylinder wall and seizing the engine. The rings were replaced and it was time to put the engine put back in the car. The car struck again. Whilst pulling the engine, the rear bonnet was held up by a long, steel pole. This was a mistake. While giving the engine a good hard pull, in an attempt to pull it out, the pole shifted and the bonnet crashed down on my head. Blood poured out and my brother found the dirtiest rag I owned (after being given direction to the clean ones(Beg to disagree there Pete! Andy)) to hold on the wound. Luckily, it hit me so hard it didn’t hurt. I think that was lucky anyway. In the wise tradition of industrial injuries, we swapped the engine over anyway. That night I was a zombie. I run the music team at my church and apparently, I did some very strange things that night. My doctor was horrified the next day. He said that people had been killed in these sorts of accidents when hit by the edge of the bonnet, or had their skulls punctured by bolts or screws. My wife wasn’t real impressed either. The motor ran OK, but I couldn’t quite tune it right and the rear, main seal was leaking a bit. I was starting to realise that someone had done some dodgy repairs. Much of the work done on the car was at best ordinary and at worst... One night, on the way home from a gig (I’m a professional muso) the three, tiny, recently installed rivets holding on the accelerator pedal broke, requiring me to jam my foot into the pedal well in a very uncomfortable way, just to get the car to move like a snail. Added to this, the engine was doing it’s favourite “think I’ll die at the lights” trick and refusing to idle. Normally the drive took an hour and a half. All I can say is I thank the Lord for freeways. Later the brake pedal seemed to be a bit spongy. At first I though, “ah, air in the lines”. Wrong!, someone had left out one of the shims that prevent the master cylinder bolts from pulling through the mounting points. I spent two hours in a confined space, grinding out the metal and then installing a plate (and the appropriate shim). Surprise, surprise, the brakes were magically fixed. $300 was looking like less and less of a bargain. During these times I was regularly making noises about getting rid of the stupid, %^&*$# thing. But the car did have it’s good points. Nobody can help looking at it and I like waving to little kids, they really get a kick out it. Despite the rather poorly applied paint, (again courtesy of dodgy repairs) lots of people just love it and one guy stopped me to take a photo of it at the VW Nationals last year. A couple of months before the next inspection (for registration), I took it to a VW mechanic recommended by a friend of mine. He tuned it and it was a much better car to drive. It started every time and ran OK, minus oil leaks as well. At this point I commented to my wife that it would be a good time to sell the car, prior to the next rego time (to some unsuspecting idiot of course, like myself).She disagreed, because she loved the little car, despite the fact that she refused (and still does) to drive it, and besides, “our dogs love it” she said. It was around this time that the car totally excelled itself (sarcasm!!). After spitting the generator nut and leaving me without a working fan, we went to collect the car and drive it home in short trips to prevent overheating. After parking the car outside a friends house and going for Thai food, we drove to a petrol station to get some fuel for it on the way home. Chaos struck again. It wouldn’t start. As we were attempting to push start the car backwards, I accidentally closed the car door on my wife’s pinkie finger, breaking the tip of it and causing a great deal of bleeding. The picture was somewhat as follows. My hysterical wife was running up and down one end the petrol station screaming, “don’t leave me”, while the attendant asked me if ,“I had a problem” (in a helpful manner) as I attempted to push the car into an appropriate parking spot. We went to the hospital in our other car and the incident ended in my wife having plastic surgery to repair the nailbed on her finger. Luckily, it didn’t cost anything. I had to wash up for six weeks straight while her finger was in a dressing. I really hate washing up. The stupid, purple, piece of....... OK, so I wasn’t happy with the car. It had maimed the love of my life and I’d had enough. It was time for it to leave and make someone else’s life miserable (and expensive), or so I thought. “NO!, we can’t sell it” she said “it’s purple and besides, it’s lovely”, and so it was. The car stayed. Things had to get better from here, right? Rego(MoT) time was almost as horrifying. It needed rust cutting out, a full front end rebuild, various leaks looked at and other things. Plus rego, (which is normally about $900 in insurance and fees) the car set me back about 2 grand, OUCH! Things got better(Sarcasm!). I was informed the engine was on the way out. It seemed the bearings had a bit too much play in them. “It might be a week”, they said, “or it could be two months”. You guessed it, it was a week. OK, I thought, we’ll get the other engine sorted and slip it in. So that’s what we did. The flywheel was replaced and that dodgy piston fixed. $300 of repairs later and, no oil pressure. Engine number two was stuffed. Two engines in two weeks.During post mortem it was discovered, the bearings were oval and wobbling around in the case. At this point I really pined the fact that we hadn’t sold the car before. After surveying our options, we decided the best course of action was to keep the car and have the engine rebuilt. This was because, even if we were broke, at least we had a reliable car out of the bargain. I chose engine number two for the rebuild because it has dual port heads. The decision to have the engine rebuilt turned out to be a great one. The VW mechanic I’d been going to up to this point, rebuilt the engine to the specs you see above. The engine was great straight away. It had tractable torque just off idle and enough power to surprise a few people off the lights. Just after it had been run in, a friend of mine, who is into rallying (like myself) told me about a shortcourse (khanacross) event coming up about two hours drive away. I asked my VW mechanic and he was quite keen for me enter. The car was tuned up and I went racing. The day began at 5:30 am and we set off about 6:15. The drive down was fine and we arrived in time for the end of scrutineering at 8:45, after having a few problems finding the place. To say the car went well would be an understatement. The only problem encountered was the aircleaner nut coming off at the end of the first run. Luckily it fell into the tinware and was retrieved and replaced. The suspension in the front was a bit low (my front beam isn’t adjustable) and rearend axle hopped a bit off the line (swingaxle), but generally, the car was great. The sound of the big exhaust echoing through the trees, as the flat four sang at full revs, (about 4500 rpm) was glorious. I wasn’t very competitive because, I had no experience driving the car on the dirt and the chassis isn’t really set up for anything in particular. When I first bought a beetle it was with the expressed purpose of doing that kind of event. Many people told me at the time that beetles do not work well in rallying. That is absolute garbage. If my car had been set up for rallying (ie suspension and tyres) with a decent driver (not me), I’m sure it could have been quite competitive. There was only one real downer to the day, on the way home the car kept cutting out. Once on the freeway this didn’t seem to happen so much, however, the mixtures were running incredibly rich. The problem was later traced to a clogged aircleaner. It was an aftermarket unit of poor quality (so we found out) and couldn’t cope with all the dust. Watch this if your racing your beetle on the dirt. If you have the chance to race your car in a similar event, I highly recommend it. It’s a time trial so you don’t have to share the track with other vehicles and you can go as fast or slow as you and the car can handle. After the rallying the car ran OK but still rich, mixture-wise. The real magic started when I was driving the car 70 km per day for seven weeks, to and from practicum for my University course. All the bugs (no pun intended) seemed to work themselves out and the car is now a joy to drive. It starts first time and goes really well. It can run off the lights like a porsche, well almost like a 356, but is most content to putter along, at what ever speed is appropriate, all day. This January, we took the car for it’s annual inspection. We were amazed when it passed without anything needing any attention. I drive the car to work and around, five days a week. People always ask me if it’s mine and then tell me lots of stories about the beetles they once owned, and in some cases, wish they’d never sold. The long term plan was to sell the car when I got my beachbuggy on the road. However, every time I mention it to my wife, she gets very sentimental (very unlike her where old cars are concerned) and says she likes it too much and doesn’t want to talk about selling it. “After all”, she says, “It’s purple”. So, negotiations are currently underway. Maybe, it will be time for a new paintjob, once the beachbuggy is finished and on the road and this time the paint will be done properly. But don’t worry, It will be “purple”. 2001, A Bug Odyssey I thought, since the year was coming to an end, I should update you on how the bug's going. Since rego this year the bug has been generally quite good. I drive it mostly five days, to and from where-ever and it goes really well. I even took it drag racing at the nationals. No burnouts here! Superior Volkswagen traction, OK, not enough power. Here I go, dusting off a turbo oval that was alittle too keen and red lighted. Competitor is on far left of pic. Seen this guy on the street since. On the day he was a little coy about engine specs when I quizzed him. No suprise that whipped my .... I have to say that I was totally expecting to blow up my gearbox. The car has been liable to jump out of second, off the throttle, ever since I bought it. And there were also a couple of occasions when perished axle boots robbed the gearbox of much needed oil. However, when I talked to Hans, my mechanic, he said if I slipped the clutch and used the handbrake to load up the gears, the box should handle the power. He was right. I didn't have one problem and revved the car right out to 5000rpm. I didn't know it could rev that high. I had a great time and didn't break anything, much to my wife's relief. Hopefully, the beachbuggy will be finished for next year. My only concern with it is that it might lift the front wheels off the ground. Cool, but scary. Wombeyan Caves, A Bug Holiday I'm sure that Liz (my wife) thinks, I just don't learn. I'm sure she's right. On the back of the success of drag racing at the Easter nationals, I decided to take the bug on holidays in the week following to Wombeyan caves. As far as I could see, the car was in perfect tune and ready for a highway spree. Liz was hesistant to say the least. We packed the car up and headed down the Hume highway towards Goulburn. I realize now, this was my mistake. The car hates Goulburn. The last time we went to Goulburn in (enroute to Canberra, see above) it overheated and shattered the rings in cylinder no.2. Liz says to me "what's that funny smell", "that's the truck in front", I replied, "open up the window more" "It smells like it's coming from the back seat", she said. "nah, it just the air blowing around". Turned out she was right. When we stopped I could hear the battery making an audible sizzling noise. Not good. The battery was boiling for some reason. 15kays out of Mittagong and a dodgy battery. "I think it's been over charged", I said. Don't you hate it when your right. The only times I am right is when something is going expensively wrong and I assured people it was OK prior to the incident. I took the terminals off the battery and rapped them in plastic bags with the engine running. We chugged into Mittagong (halfway to Goulburn) and found the road service branch (NRMA). Yep, the voltage regulator was allowing acouple of volts too much into the battery. Right, volksies are common, should be able to lay my hands on one without too much trouble, right? Wrong! Three days later we finally managed to buy a voltage regulator from a guy who had a convertable superbug sitting in his truck yard. He wasn't in a big rush to sell it, as the car didn't belong to him, even though the car hadn't moved in at least 18 months. His son wasn't so shy, he sold it to us for $50 and even installed it. Not bad when we'd been quoted $120 by an auto-electrician the day before, and he'd have to "order it in from Sydney". Also, no thanks need go to the rudest, least helpful VW parts salesman, whom I met during our search for the part. Once fixed we left Mittagong for Wombeyan caves. The rock arch in the picture is on the track between Mittagong and Wombeyan Caves. There are two roads into Wombeyan Caves, the good via Goulburn (the car hates Goulburn remember), and the bad via Mittagong. About halfway along the road I realized why this was the road I was told not to use. Should be OK cause, WW2 Kubelwagens used to have Beetle suspension and Baja bugs just have big tyres, right? This is mostly true and could be relied upon if the previous owner hadn't lowered the front end using the non-adjustable method. The car rattled it way along the track as I picked the high spots as best as I could. Got to say one thing though. The low gearing in first and second was excellent, and third was great for crawling over bad bits of track with my foot off the throttle. The bad terrain had another effect though. As we climbed up and down several hills, the fuel began to get quite low. There were two spots I thought I might be able get some petrol on the way in. The first was out of fuel, the second, Wombeyan Caves camping area, never sold it to begin with. This worried me, so after setting up the tent we went on a last dash mission to get some petrol at the nearest town, Taralga, some 34km (22mls) away. I was concerned we wouldn't make it that far, but God blessed us with VW's legendary fuel consumption and we made it easily. Taralga also gave us a great opportunity to get an icy-cold drink. We went back to the caves and lit a fire and cooked dinner. I played my guitar for quite some time and Liz slept mostly. We went to bed planning to go bush walking the next morning and go through a cave. It was still two days before we were expected home. The walking nearly killed us and Liz was appalled at the price of Cave tours, so we decided to go to Bathurst via Oberon. We would have dinner in a Resturant we'd enjoyed some years before. The last night in Bathurst could be fun. Liz's mum's maiden name was Bathurst and the town was named after her family. The road to Oberon was all dirt and 92km (58mls) long. It was winding and full of corrogations. The trick with corrogations is that you get your pace up and keep it up so that the car glides, OK rattles, over the high spots and avoids the troughs. The beetle averaged 90km/h (55m/hr) and overtook newer and slower cars with ease. However, it was the the road between Oberon and Bathurst where it shone. The road was good tar and the beetle just wanted to go and go. At 120km/h (70m/hr) it sang and pulled up hills like a trojan, but I don't like giving police my money so we slowed down to 110km/h. We pushed on to get to Bathurst by before 5pm so we could buy somthing to wear to dinner. All our good clothes were at home. We arrived in Bathurst at 4:55pm and ran around like headless chooks until we realized the shops closed at 5:30. The car was filthy with red dust and a few passers by looked disdanefully at it. The passenger door seals had leaked and we'd kept the dust out by shutting all the windows so that it couldn't billow around inside the car. Lucky it wasn't hot weather. Finally we got what we needed and drove down the street to the resturant. As we rounded the corner the resturant was on we spied a 'for lease' sign and realised the fuss was all for nothing. The place had gone out of business about a year before. Another spanner in the works..... Bathurst wasn't looking so flash anymore so we thought, "we're missing home, we'll eat pizza in Lithgow and go home tonight". I fueled up the dub and we headed off. The pizza was nice enough and the beetle purred along on the speed limit after tearing up a very steep Victoria Pass into the blue mountains. We arrived home late that night, a day earlier than expected. This is not unusual. We love our home and our dogs and when I get bored with holidays I just want to be home. Your own bed is always the most cosy....... Especially when your air mattress keeps going down! VW Beetle, The Tradesmans Friend!? Every now and again I like to pretend my Beetle is a powerful work vehicle that can be loaded up to the max. I regularly carry a large canoe on roof racks or fill the interior with amps, speaker boxes, guitars and a double bass. As you may or may not know we did some home improvements this year. Some of them involving me doing plumbing and drainage for a new garage (see J&S project). Most people would use a trailer or van (kombi?), but not me, as far as I'm concerned, a beetle can do anything. As you can imagine, sometimes my wife worries what the consequences will be, but usually things work fine. On this particular occasion we went to the hardware shop and got three 6m lengths of drainage pipe. The obvious thing to do was strap them to the racks. The only problem is, beetles are only 4m long, so what? If you can fail to notice a car like mine on the road you shouldn't have a license. We saw one cop on the short trip home and luckily he wasn't looking in our direction. The new garage really rocks, by the way. This is the last you will hear about this lovely beetle from me. It now belongs to a nice guy called Evan who got on to me through Kimm at Indian Automotive. I was very sad to see the car go. Liz cried when Evan drove away. Only the other I got some photos of the car from a friend and I realised I missed the car more than I thought. This car will certainly not be the last 60's beetle I own..... Liz isn't convinced. Yet....... Email me at peterwood73@hotmail.com with your stories. Click here to return to Pete's Volkswagen Web Page