Sign of an impending Volkswag-alypse.

The title is intended to be verbalized ominously with a deep-toned German accent; "Volks-vog-alypse". There; that's better.

I fear the air-cooled VW scene is turning into a numbers game. I present before you two potential VW restoration projects, the only real difference between them being age; about 10 years. Both are Volkswagen mid-model vans (one a Kombi, the other a 15-window). The Kombi model was offered to span the gap between slab-sided panel vans and multi-window deluxe versions suitable for family transportation. They were generally used for commercial purposes or often fitted with custom camper kits. Thus they were plentiful.

Granted, older models are always more rare, as production numbers typically rise as the model years roll by. However, I had one of those slack-jawed-yokel moments the other day as I perused the VW classifieds on a popular air-cooled VW website. Admittedly, I have to accept the fact that prices for VW microbuses have skyrocketed in recent years (probably about the past decade) but stratospheric prices are generally reserved for mechanically sound, presentable specimens.

The first one I came across, a ’63, was definitely a fixer-upper of a high magnitude. From the photos posted in the ad, it looked like something that as as kids, way-back-when, we would have come across in a field being used as rifle target practice. This particular model was a step up from a Kombi, being what’s called a “15-window”. That means it’s a bit of a special edition transition between a Kombi and a Deluxe. Deluxe Microbuses were known for their roof windows. The early models had, all told, 23 windows. The later models had their rear curved windows deleted when the rear hatch got enlarged, leaving them with merely 21. The 15-window was really a deluxe bus minus the roof windows and sunroof. Otherwise perhaps known as a “Kombi with korner glass”. In other words, these days it’s a fairly desirable find, even if requiring full restoration. The one I saw advertised was listed for $3,750. Actually quite a bargain (A bargoon at twice the price!).

1963 15-window Microbus

The second bus is the one that made me gasp. Its big claim to fame is that it’s a barndoor. Doncha love collectabilia lingo? A barndoor microbus is a pre-mid-1955 model with a hinged engine cover twice the size of the model years immediately following. I first became aware of this change about 20 years ago when I owned a late ’55 that had the smaller lid. The bus in this ad is a ’52, thus gaining itself big bonus points simply for its barndoor status. But wait; there’s more!

This bus is mostly complete. It’s always better to have all the hard-to-find bits included with the purchase of a restoration project than not, as the little odds ‘n ends could cause no small amount of frustration to locate, much less afford. So that’s a check in the plus column.

However (and I can’t over-emphasize this enough), the engine is missing, and the seller admits that the bottom 6 inches of sheetmetal requires replacement around the truck’s perimeter!

1952 Kombi.

At this point I’m thinking the rarity may balance out the mechanical and metal work costs. But not so fast, Bargain-hunter Bob. Apparently, according to the present owner, this one’s a jewel in the rough, despite being only a Kombi.

I’ve been watching vintage air-cooled VW pricing quite closely the last couple of years. I’ve noticed that the VW buses and Porsche 356s have shot up in value the most, relative to their brethren. High prices for Porsches I can perhaps understand since they’ve always been priced at a premium relative to Volkswagen. It’s like what Cadillac is to Chevrolet.

But what about the ascendance of Microbuses versus Beetles? I’d like to buy a mid-50s Beetle one of these days, and so far my dream is still within reach. There have been, and still are, several mechanically sound, very presentable, hot-rodded and affordable Beetles for sale recently. Not so for Microbuses. Twenty grand is about the lowest price you’ll find for a Kombi driver. Twenty-five to thirty grand is common.

Which brings me back to this ’52 Kombi. When I saw the price at the bottom of the ad I thought it must be due to a thick typing finger adding a zero. Even if this van had been completely finished, in drive-off-the-lot condition I would have thought it expensive. Here's another way to look at it; given the choice, would you rather buy a new Porsche Boxster or a vintage VW van without an engine, requiring about (minimum) $10,000 in sheetmetal repair, plus full interior upholstery restoration? I still can’t quite wrap my head around it.

Clock’s ticking…gotta make up your mind…what’s it gonna be?

That’s what I thought. We’ll continue on the path of paying down the house mortgage.

But to those that are still reading, I’ll let you know that being the proud new owner of this piece of Volkswagen history will set you back $65,000. Yes, you read that right; sixty-five thousand dollars. If we were talking about a’52 Fargo I bet you'd close the deal by lopping off two zeros.

Prince Albert Street renovation

It's coming up to the 2-year anniversary of an on-going neighbourhood restoration project, so I thought I'd show an update photo as compared to the "before" shot.

I chronicled this house a couple of years ago becausae it was actually written up in The Courier as an eye-sore by at least one neighbour. Fairly quickly after that article was published, the property changed hands and an extensive renovation was undertaken.

I'm not sure if the new owners intended for it to take this long, but at least it's made great strides towards completion. One would never know by its current appearance that it was once on the verge of literally collapsing, as can be seen by the diagonal structural beams supporting the second story.

Approximately 2009.

October 17, 2012.

Peak To Peak

This past summer my wife’s parents took a day trip to Whistler while there were staying with us. Being from the flat landscape of Winnipeg they were intrigued to traverse between two mountain peaks, about one kilometer above the valley floor at mid span. Ingeniously enough this gondola ride is known as Peak-To-Peak. (That always reminds me of the contest that was held some years ago to name the No. 2 Road bridge in Richmond. It’s now officially named “The No. 2 Road Bridge”.)

My wife then found an online deal to get us two-for-one tickets for the same attraction. The hitch was that we had to use the tickets before the end of September, and September is always really busy for Shauna setting up a new school year.

We’d been to Whistler for the Canada Day weekend, but the weather had been more suited to Thanksgiving. We really wanted to experience Whistler, and especially Pear-To-Peak in the glorious sunshine this region experienced from mid-summer into early Fall.

More Olympic rings at the top.

The view upon our descent to mid-span.

The valley floor is about 1000m below us right here!

The ascent up Blackcomb from mid-span.

Hallowe'en House

I came across interesting development the other day while walking my dog in our East Van ‘hood. There’s a particular house a few blocks east of our place that I make a point of passing at least every couple or three weeks. It started out as mere curiosity, as in “Who would live in a dump like that?”

It’s the proverbial Hallowe’en House. The one you’d never dare approach on a dark and dreary late October evening. Or any other evening (or day!) for that matter. The house is really old; I’d guess built in the 40’s. Up until this past year the huge deciduous trees in the front yard obscured not only most of the run-down house, but also a decrepit late 70’s or early 80’s Jeep pick-up with a canopy. It had been backed into the front yard, presumably after spitting out its last breath.

Strangely enough, the first time I saw the house’s lone occupant I didn’t realize he lived there. He was cleaning the wheels on a pick-up truck in front of that house. I certainly don’t mean to categorize the man, but he really did (and still does) look homeless. He’s got long greasy grey hair, he’s very thin, he’s walks with a limp and he dresses poorly. Embarrassingly on my part, I honestly thought he was going to ask me for money as I passed, but he seemed intent on his task at hand. Quite some time later I realized he owned the pick-up, as I saw him driving in the neighbourhood.

After that I saw him driving a different vehicle, a late model SUV; then an ‘80’s full-size station wagon. I’m a car nut by nature so I tend to recognize vehicles quickly. I noticed that all 3 of his vehicles were parked on the street within about ½ a block of that residence, all currently licensed. And the strangest part of all is that all three vehicles were packed to their roofs with collected, used items. Quite recently he’s added another truck to the fleet, a mid-nineties crew cab pick-up with a canopy. It’s gradually filling up too.

The blinds of the house have never been opened or raised each time I’ve walked past. A single lamp illuminates a corner window beside the front door. I can only imagine what the interior must look like. I envision narrow passageways through all the rooms lined with stacks of hoarded items. Perhaps it’s not even possible to enter some rooms for all the clutter. And what about the basement? It’s the kind of place where you wish you could remove the roof, like taking off the lid of a shoebox, prior to entry, just to see what you’re up against. The thought of entering that place just gives me the creeps.

I blogged about this house a year or so ago when, probably due to neighbours complaints, the City came by and cut down the backyard-full of brambles. And lo and behold if they didn’t uncover a collapsed wood frame garage! This is only a standard 33’ x 100’ lot we’re talking about, so to be able to obscure an entire shed structure is quite a feat! It shouldn’t be too surprising that this garage contained two cars. The City crew also towed the old Jeep around to the back yard, next to the other two.

Since then the back stairs have collapsed under their own weight of rotten stringers and treads.

Upon this stellar pedigree, up pops a For Sale sign last Spring. On my obligatory dogwalk I was simply stunned. My first thought was that the poor man had died. Although I know nothing of the man’s personality, not the least of which would be his personal demeanor, I can’t imagine the neighbours would be sad to see this property change hands. We bought our house with a similarly neglected adjacent property with hopes that it would soon be re-developed. It since has been.

However, no sooner had I told my wife that the house was on the market…it was off the market. At that time a few months ago, the single detached housing market was still red-hot in Vancouver. I assumed someone had snatched up the property as a build lot. Usually within 2 months following a sale you can expect to see some sort of change to a property; vacancy being one of them. Nothing happened this time. Eventually my wife and I attended a local Open House of another property close by; we do that sometimes just as look-ee-loos. It was the same realtor as had been listed at the hoarder house so I asked him about it. He said the owner was very unrealistic about what it was worth, and he soon severed ties with the realtor.

That brings me to this past week. Again, passing by with my dog, I noticed a small For Sale sign nailed to one of the big trees in the front yard. It’s the kind of sign you’d buy in any Dollar Store. Mostly covering the first sign is a piece of cardboard with shaky white lettering (looks like white-out) stating that the house is listed at $1,039,000! Firm.

The neighbours need not worry about impending construction noise for the next while. At over a mil this lot-value property is over-priced by about 250K. For comparison purposes, I'll post later what $1,050,000 bought last year about 4 blocks west of this address. There really is no comparison.