Radio Blues

Installed some speakers in the Beetle today. It was a rush job but the job is somewhat aesthetically pleasing. I've had a radio in the car since before last winter. The whole purpose was not just music but to plug the hole in the dash through which cold air flooded the vehicle. But with my tax refund I've decided to finally get music in the car. There may be a plan afoot to fix Zazu's biggest issue. I'm thinking an extended range fuel tank and a larger oil capacity. And a new motor. This would drastically increase the range I can travel. Time shall tell.

Summer Guessing Games

It was a nice day out so I took the Beetle out for a spin. Woman is coming for a visit so I made sure to brim my tank. One of the nicer things about this car is the tank sits right around 10 gallons. Figuring out how much money it will take to fill the tank is easy you simply move the decimal point on the price of a gallon. Or if you only want half a tank you move the decimal and halve the amount. Lovely!
During the winter the speedometer went on strike. On a whim today I screwed it back in. And it worked like it should. I didn't know I had a speedo that only works in good weather. The car DID come from California I guess. Of course eventually I got it stuck at 15mph but a rap on the glass brought it stuttering back to life. This is one of the cool things about old cars, you can give the most awesome instructions to a new driver.
My buddy Scott got the honor of driving Zazu into town and back yesterday. He's never been formally trained in a proper, or manual, gearbox. So it was a crash course. He did all right all things considered. "Dude your car scares the hell out of me" was repeated several times but he's simply not used to the, how do you say. eccentricities of a old car!
On my old car the list is long. The brakes WILL work. Just straighten your leg out and try and push the pedal through the floor. They'll work. If the speedometer futzs out on you you can drive by the tachometer. 65mph is 3000rpm in 4th, 35 is 2000rmp in 3rd, and when it sounds like the car will tear itself apart in 1st, call it 15mph. You need to move the CB mike to open the glove compartment and remember the gas fill is on the passenger side at the front of the car. And last but not least remember the engine is in the back.
We all made it safe and sound and even Scott was head to give accolades to my little car that can. That says a lot about a car built eleven years before I was. It's nice to have the summer back, it's motoring season!

Updates

It's been a trying couple of weeks. Zazu got me the through the winter in style. And then I stopped driving him for about a month. And he got jealous. In the last two weeks he's been towed twice and in the shop three times. I'm thinking I need to make a sign at Curt's saying "Reserved for the private auto collection of James D. Maxwell" But it was a simple short, it's always simple with my car, and he's been washed and cleaned. I added some oil so he'll be good to go for the next few weeks. I hope. I have to keep constantly remind myself to put down the urge to take him for a distance drive. I think that in all practicality, Frenchtown to the west, Stevensville to the south, Garrison to the east and the Wye to the north are the limits of Zazu's range. And that I'm afraid is his Achilles heel. I have mountain ranges in all directions and hundreds of miles of driving to get anywhere of use. But I love driving my bug. I really do. I was talking to Woman a few days ago and I she commented how if the bug was worth it. I replied sometimes it's not but then I get in and drive it and it's worth every penny and busted knuckle. I'm driving history here. Then I started waxing all romantic and she almost hung up on me. The joys of the Old Car Club. Now to pay some more money to the man who fixes it.

Gremlins

I thought I would take a moment to talk about gremlins. They live in every old piece of machinery, cars included. Today mine were feasting on my turn signals. Hand signals in freezing weather aren't very much fun at all.
Today, for the very first time and with my mechanics help and guidance I adjusted my valves to their proper .006 setting. It was fun, can't wait to do it again as a matter of fact. But when I left I found my turn signals were not indicating.
So I returned to Curt's Auto Care, and in the parking lot, figured out how the wiring works. I'm sick of just being a "I don't know what's going on!" type of person. Thank goodness for How to Keep Your Volkswagen Alive by John Muir. It comes highly recommended. Nothing seemed amiss, I pulled a few wires, checked the connections, all looked fine. Walked in, told him I'd drop it off on Monday, and hand signaled my way home. When I arrived home, they worked fine. I have no idea why. It just happened. And we get to one of the many joys of old iron. There is something magical about the way it breaks down. One moment life is good. Then in a heartbeat it can change drastically and always for the worst. Fix a part, the one right next to it will fail for no reason at all, and the one next to that just to spite you.
You can tell a fellow member by how many nervous ticks they have. Always living in fear of the next major breakdown. Afraid to leave the house without duct tape, electrical tape, masking tape, wires, brushes, valve seals, oil, fuses, flares, GPS, rope, MRE's, a donkey, voodoo priestess and a cat. And it's not just cars, there is a certain CMO of a railroad I know that always seems looking over his shoulder should the locomotive just up and attack him for no reason other then it's a Friday.
But if you excuse me, the cat is currently sick and needs to go the vet. The donkey is fine.

Pilot to Co-Pilot

It's been snowing here a lot, two inches total last night alone. This has made driving fun. And I backed my car into a skip, but no damage I can't repair this summer. But the roommate, one Stuntman Mike, drove into town to check up on why I can't receive picture messages. It was a two man job. One person to do the driving, the other to keep the windows clear and transparent. Why this is important, one must understand how the defrost system of a 1970 bug works.
On the front end of the car, the pointy end for you you noobs, it's accomplished through a devilish combination of fresh air and heated air. The idea is sound in principle, the fresh air will assist in the movement of hot air across the windshield, thus removing any obstruction. That's the idea. There are two problems with this. One, there is a constant stream of cold air entering the vehicle. Two, it's like trying to nail jello to a moving poodle playing racquetball. It just doesn't work. And on the back end, it's a heating latice like any other modern car.
You can read the forums and techincal manuals, they throw around words like "Doghouse Flaps" and "Well sealed trunk". Well those don't exist on a 38 year old car. They can, but that takes money and that's going to things like rent and if I smoked, cigarettes. Good thing I don't smoke. But I digress.
In the modern world the heat is fan driven and it does it's job wonderfully. But in my car, I need a copilot with either a scraper and or a squegee to periodicaly clear my front windows. I end up using my only side mirror as my rear view but only on the drivers side because my real rear view mirror has fogged up. My blindspots are truely blind as I can't see through the condenstation. So I either don't change lanes, have to ask my co-driver, or guess. I don't like that last option.
But the traction has been good recently.

The car has been acting strangely as of late. Well not that most would notice, but I drive him enough that I can see it, or more feel it. The car is warm on the last run of the day. The heaters actually do their jobs. I can put down the hood on my jacket, doff my cap, ditch the gloves and no matter what the weather outside may be I'm suddenly and for the first time all day comfortable in my little British Racing Green cocoon. It's a rather remarkable feeling, very much like the smug feeling you get when driving in the rain.
It was nice tonight, a light snow was falling and I just rode along listing to the engine and watching for rough spots. There was just enough light to illuminate the countryside and it was a delightful motor home. I'm so glad I get to enjoy these moments with my car. Moments where time seems to stop, worries and cares vanish, and all that remains is the ten minute drive through rural Montana in a real winter wonderland. And I'm taking the time to look around at the view, and noticing maybe for the first time the snow on the fence posts and the way the mountains look so much different covered in in green and white. I think I shall try and motor north one of these days so I can enjoy more of it. And if able, I suggest you do the same.

I Take It All Back

Well it's been two or more weeks of solid snow and crappy roads. And I retract everything I've said about trying to drive my car. It's bloody brilliant is what is. A true technical achievement beyond what many "modern" cars are capable of. And I've learned over the last few days it's not the car, but it is the driver. And until I learned how to drive my car, I was failing Zazu.
A few nights ago, never mind the exact date, I was going home in the stark and barren winter streets and a thought occurred to me. Can I do a 180 degree turn an intersection? POWWWEEERRRRR! Spent the next half hour going sideways around corners and in general acting like a cock. But that was the moment when I learned the car. How much steering to give it, when to brake and all the other interesting stuff that is taken for granted in this the modern age of the automobile.
You see with a car like mine, you feel the car. Not through some electro-sensory feedback or an artificial feel system, but through the nuts and bolts and the seat of your pants. You can't think as it's simply too slow, you have to feel.
I liken it to operating a steam locomotive, which I also do. It's not about what a gauge tells you, like in a car. It's what your eyes tell you, and your ears. How is the engine working, what's the exhaust look like, how is the road ahead, what does it sound like. Your not inside the vehicle so much as you are outside of it. What happens inside is simply a culmination of all this.
Driving an old car is very much like this. And in these conditions it's even more apparent. I find myself looking at the snow and slush and making decisions about where I want to go, how much throttle to add. I'm not worried about what my speedometer or my tachometer reads. They are just gauges. What I want to know is how the car is functioning, what it's feeling.
And so far it's not put me wrong. Sure there are a few tight spots here and there, like running into a snowbank to avoid a collision, or missing a roundabout, but all and all it's been a wonderful experience. I look forward to continuing to drive my old car in these terrible conditions.
To you and yours happy holidays from all of us here at Life In The Old Car Club!