A Perlweiss ’64 VW, exactly like my second car. Running my hands over its familiar curves unleashes a flood of memories: This was my space capsule for exploring new worlds and traveling hither and thither, driven by an urge to slake my thirst for new experiences by covering as much of this country as possible: Meet someone in a strange town, share a bed with them, get a job for a couple of weeks and explore the local countryside, all before the inevitable next time the urge to un-merge boils up. On the road again…
and with maybe $75 or $125 from washing dishes or digging ditches in my pocket–enough to roll for several weeks, but actually more like a month. A ten-dollar fill-up was good for some 320 miles. Buy some brown rice (15¢/lb) and lentils to cook on my Svea white-gas stove. Unfold the little cheap tent or if it was dumping out, curl up in the back seat. Spot a gravel road, and just head down it without knowing where it leads, but always somewhere, like the Jeep-road pass over the Continental Divide. Or to a dead end. No matter; my ever-reliable ’64 VW always got me there.
This is just how mine looked from the back, too, with stuff jammed in to the roof. And also under the seats. Once I finally got a roof rack, I’d throw my bike up there along with a few waterproof bags. One time as I was about to re-enter the U.S. after driving cross-country through Canada, the feds made me pull over, remove everything from my VW, and then spread out the contents on a big table that was not nearly big enough to hold it all, and the overflow eventually covered much of the ground surrounding it. That was fun. In the process, though, I did find the beloved Swiss Army Knife I had given up for lost. So thank you, Immigration and Customs Service! I’ll always be in your debt.
Now if I could just figure out why that beloved knife is not where it’s been for years, in the jar on my desk. It’s probably the only thing I have left from that trip, and I’d hate to lose it now, almost 40 years later. It’s like a memory stick–and I’m not sure if or when I’ll run into a ’64 perlweiss VW again.
It was a rare day that I could gas up my ’64 Type I (‘Eeyore’) without someone coming over to share a Beetle story. Old VWs just seem to collect ’em.
Nice example too!
Yessir, when I had mine on the road you practically had to slam the door and dash away if you didn’t have time to get into a 15 minute conversation with passers by.
The one time I tried going to a cruise night I got cornered by another VW guy who lectured me about all the accessories I could add to my car. Gag!
My favorite part is driving along, bringing smiles to the faces of old guys and kids pointing.
I’m still glueing carpets, and it’s getting too cold to do it. Better switch to the wiring harness for Oct and Nov…
Here’s Eeyore (can’t post photos from an iPad, apparently):
Nice. What color was the interior? Do you still have this one?
Eeyore had a red interior. Sold him in 2001 when I bought the ’00 TDI New Beetle that’s my current daily driver. I had started my own business, and the maintenance and repair needs of an early ’60s car (even with a fresh 1200 engine) was getting in the way of making meeting dates and times.
Looks as tall as the Subaru Forester next to it. More up-to-date modern in that regard than all the “longer-lower-wider” cars that surrounded it in 1964.
My parents had a red ’61 that I drove quite a bit, and did some of my courting in it, a neat trick as I’m 6′ 2″ and she’s 6′. They traded it for a pale blue 63. Later on I got a new red 67, and found out firsthand one of the disadvantages of a bug when I t-boned a 49 Plymouth whose elderly owner (probably about my present age) turned left in front of me. The bug was towed, in a body shop for several days; the Plymouth motored on with some minor fender damage.
The body shop guys forgot to fill a seam somewhere, and early that fall on the way back from a hike in the Olympic Mountains in heavy rain I started hearing this sloshing sound, caused by about two inches of water on the floor on the passenger side.
Those were the days when I wasn’t keeping cars very long, and the red bug got traded on a 1960 220S sedan.
I have a mental pic of two cars at a friends shop about seven years ago funny thing is is the cars are exactly the same (colors roof ski rack and all). The only thin different was the grey backdrop was vynal siding instead of cinder block. and it didnt include the postireior of a tercel.
I own a ’67 Type I, about this same color, that I have toyed with the idea of selling. Just haven’t taken the time to drive it much over the last couple years. But seeing this makes me think that I’ll just hang onto it for a good while longer…
I love a simple, unaccessorized, stock 58-64 Beetle.
Well, I’m a huge VW guy anyway, but there’s just something so endearing about this era Beetle.
In Norway it was sold a lot of these cars after 1960. They were cheap, uncomfortable and rusty. But it’s some of the most reliable cars that the Germans ever made. Volkswagen today makes just piece of crap that is extremly expensive to repair.
BMW is the only European car maker who makes cars that are realiable today. The Italians and French, no, VAG-cars no, Mercedes rusts a lot.
BMWs (classic and modern) have very poor reps for engines here. Someone pointed out that their cooling system is not up to snuff. The only European cars that seem to go on and on are classic Mercedes petrol fours (non AC) and the VW Beetle. None other. Not old, not new.
My first Beetle was a 1957(small back window and tiny tailights). Got me through 3 years of college. Changed oil and spark plugs ever so often and it just ran and ran.
Remember a young lady in my high school had one with 2 rear windows which I think was brought over by one of her family members. Don’t remember what the year was.
Split-window Beetles are mid-1953 and older. Ovals are mid-1953 through 1958, when the rear window was enlarged and squared off a bit.
Its articles like this that remind me of why we love you. Thank you Paul.
“…cook on my Svea white-gas stove”
A buddy of mine had one of these that we used on back country trips back in the day. Always some great pyrotechnics getting that thing lit!
Meet someone in a strange town, share a bed with them, get a job for a couple of weeks and explore the local countryside, all before the inevitable next time the urge to un-merge boils up. On the road again…
I wonder if this even makes sense to 20 somethings today? Just roll into a strange town and get a job? Any job? Not have to beat out 27 other applicants for a chance to wash dishes?
How things have changed.
Not to mention `share a bed’ with complete strangers. The sixties were wild, I’ve heard, but this takes the cake. 🙂
> Not have to beat out 27 other applicants for a chance to wash dishes?
That was the line of thinking that made communism attractive in Europe. Think about it—no competition, everyone gets a (dead end) job for life. Very high social security. It didn’t work out in practice, but that’s another story.
Just to be clear, I was not pushing any Commie agenda. I just meant that there was a time when jobs were easy to get. If you were willing to wash dishes, or dig ditches you could earn some pocket money and fill your tank and be on your way – on your adventure. Now, no matter how willing, there just might not be anything.
Yes, sharing a bed, by today’s standards is kind of wild. There was no AIDS back then, so things were more casual.