It was another triple digit day today. Last year a fuss was made about the eleventh year (in the 2nd millenium), eleventh month and the eleventh day. Not to mention eleventh hour and eleventh minute.

A similar occurrence happened today to the tune of twelve. 2012-12-12, 12:12. I missed it at twelve past midnight, but I was able to document it a shade past noon.

Foggy sunrise

This morning I had to drive from Vancouver to Langley. I was not looking forward to the drive as there had been a major traffic accident southbound at the north end of the Alex Fraser bridge, my intended route. I briefly considered taking Highway 1 instead over the new Port Mann bridge, but it probably would have taken longer.

Ultimately it proved to be a good decision to stick to #10 Highway into Surrey as I snapped this interesting photo of the sun rising above a fog bank. If it wasn't for the orange hue, you might think it was a moon rise. It's not often you can safely look at the sun. The fog was an ideal filter.

How He Does It

I think the sub-title should be revised to something such as, "Lance's extraordinary descent from multiple unprecedented wins in his chosen sport to the 25 cent bin at the Sally Ann Thrift Shop".

Better hurry; I saw only one copy in the basket.

Centenary

Do you you know anyone that’s celebrated their centenary? It’s pretty rare, but becoming ever more common, to celebrate one’s 100^th year on this fair planet.

We attended such an event a couple of weeks ago. My Aunt’s mother turned 100. She’s a feisty German widow that’s lived with my Uncle and Aunt for about the last 45 years. When I was a kid we’d go there for family events and she’d always make a fuss about our arrival. My dad’s side of the family is German, and unfortunately I’m the only one of my cousins that never learned to speak the language. So again unfortunately, I could never really communicate with “Oma”. (She’s not technically my blood-related grandmother (Oma), but that’s how she’s affectionately known.) Nonetheless she always greeted me warmly with something like, “Oh there’s David!”

 At the birthday party I had but one regret; Oma didn’t recognize me at first. I suppose one isn’t always cognizant of the fact that one’s own appearance changes over time. When I greeted Oma and presented her with flowers I wasn’t expecting that she wouldn’t recognize me. My Aunt actually didn’t even recognize me at first either. I feel rather guilty about that. I fear I’ve become a bit of the black sheep in the family. My wife and I live in Vancouver and almost all the rest of my Dad’s side of the family live in Langley. That’s really no excuse, I know; it’s only at most an hour away. But it seems to have made a difference the last 12 years or so. That has to be my New Year’s Resolution; not to be such a stranger. Family ties are important.

After some momentary confusion, my Aunt did indeed recognize me and all was well. She had to go to Oma’s side and speak loudly (she’s rather deaf) to tell her who I was. Then that familiar smile appeared and she said, “Oh, David!” She’s still very much alert and remained the centre of attention for the rest of the evening.

I have to say; the Germans really know how to throw a party! The celebration was held in a Langley restaurant and we had a whole side room to ourselves. Shauna and I sat in the middle of a table surrounded by several Aunts and my cousin and his wife. We got caught up on family news.

After the wonderful dinner is when the party really started. Upon arrival there had been a roving accordion player providing background ambiance. What could be more stereotypical than accordion music at a German gathering? It brought back memories of the parties my relatives would throw at special occasions. In those days everyone had those huge entertainment units that really were pieces of furniture. You’d open the lid, place a stack of LPs on the spindle and get hours of music, provided none of the records skipped.

However, the real surprise came after the plates had been cleared. Our musician went over to Oma’s side and serenaded her with several selections from 1920’s German operettas. You’d never know it from looking at his slender frame, but this guy could really belt out the high notes! Not being a real opera fan, I’ve never experienced this genre of music live. It’s pretty impressive, especially in such a small room! With some of the powerfully sustained high notes, I was half-expecting a wine glass or two to shatter. I caught several people dabbing a tissue to their eye. I’m kind of at a loss for words. It was a very impressive musical performance. Oma was mouthing the words to several of the songs.

As I was growing up, typically at family shindigs, the evening meal would be followed by dessert. I reminisced with one of my Aunts earlier in the evening that I fondly remembered family gatherings when we were kids at her place. We’d always be outside running around the farm. When we’d come in again after dinner the lid of the full-size freezer by the back door would be covered with various cakes. I’d end up sampling a small piece of each of them. Far be it from me to insult any of the bakers!

There were special guests in attendance from Germany having flown in especially for this event. One of them recited a story/ poem in German, so I really couldn’t follow it. The gist of it, I think, was a description of the perfect gift for the centenarian. It was an everyday product, available in a multitude of different colours and textures, and very practical. I wish I could have understood it as it was being read as several people found it amusing. At the end a replica of a cake was presented, constructed from rolls of toilet paper, with a can of beer hidden in the middle! We’re lucky Oma has a sense of humour.

The real cake was much more palatable. It was a strawberry shortcake. Very good indeed. Although if I’d been asked to bet on what kind of cake would be served, I’d have said Black Forest.

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.

Voices in the Park 2012

 A couple of weeks ago we helped support Sarah MacLachlan’s school of music by attending Voices in the Park. There was a pretty big line-up of artists taking part. We arrived a bit late thereby unfortunately missing the first few acts, but we did get to see Whitehorse (Luc Doucette & Melissa McClelland), Jann Arden, Hedley, Bryan Adams, Stevie Nicks, and of course Sarah McLachlan. Strangely enough for a music event, Bill Clinton was also there to give a short speech (and I mean really short; probably less than 5 minutes) about how music had profoundly influenced his life.

Being a camera geek I brought my point-and-shoot camera, and considering the amateurish nature of the device, I got some decent shots. The zoom lens on that thing really amazes me sometimes. As long as I can steady the camera against a solid object, even at night I sometimes get good results. As long as people in front of us remained seated I could brace the camera against my knee and zoom waaaaaay in.

Sarah MacLachlan, Luc Doucette and Melissa McClelland

 I photographed Whitehorse, Jann Arden, Hedley (who were surprisingly better than I was expecting; I didn’t really know their music prior to this event), Bryan Adams (acoustic set; amazing!), Stevie Nicks (opened with a Led Zeppelin tune; it got better from there), and Sarah McLachlan closed the show (as well as dueting with almost all the previous acts).

I don't know Hedley's lead singer's name, but he certainly was popular with the teen girl set. There was a group of four of them just to the side of our picnic blanket that were linked arm in arm, swaying in unison, absolutely transfixed by the performance.

Point-and-shooters have to be innovative. That's part of the allure, I think, to try to get the best shot possible out of a cheap camera allowing for composition, overall light level, colour (very important to me), and sometimes quirkiness. For instance by the time most of the headliners hit the stage the sun had set. We were seated quite far back on flat ground, not on the slope. I could sometimes get a good sight line to the stage, but often just as I framed the "perfect" shot, someone would stand up. And sometimes simply the delay of the camera's shutter (or whatever the electronic equivalent is called), that half second delay was enough to miss the optimum moment.

Fortunately now it's common that music concerts feature massive video screens behind, and to both sides of the main stage. If it hadn't been for that, I'd end up with relatively few, if any decent photos. I suppose it's cheating a bit to photograph a projection of an event, but on the other hand I'm no pro, and nobody's paying me for this or any assignment. The stage camera crew tossed me a bone, so to speak, when they hung video cameras above the stage, oriented to record directly above the performers. That became particularly effective for Hedley's set in framing a bird's eye view of the grand piano. And I had to catch the scene in both warm and cold "filters", augmented by the orange and alternately blue stage lighting. 

So you see, I'm not there just for the music; I take in the overall mood, with colour factored in prominently. I'm very impressed by the evolution of stage presentation in recent years. It also helps to be able to bring such a small camera, with instant LCD playback. Years ago hauling around a heavy 35mm was fine for daylight events. I used to do that and got quite reliant on the internal light meter. I was never one to fuss with the art of apertures and focal lengths to a high degree. I learned how to use the light meter to my best advantage, with reasonable success. I pick up my old Yashica frequently and tell myself to dedicate an afternoon to give it a go again, but really, who's got a free afternoon these days? 

To be fair, that's not totally the reason I've ditched traditional film. I lean more towards digital point-and-shoots largely because of my dog. My first priority is my dog. If ever I decide to dedicate a chunk of time to photography it has to revolve around exercising her. Thus simplicity becomes my foremost perogative. With leash in one hand, the obligatory camera must be a one-hander.

Nowadays I approach photography digitally, largely for the sheer simplicity of it. The LCD display is a God-send for one-handed photography, along with the power zoom, supplemented further by digital zoom. However on the occasion of Voices in the Park, I was wishing I'd brought my Rebel. Up to this point I've really been unsure what is meant by "No professional cameras allowed" printed on all concert tickets. I assumed they allowed pocket-style cameras, but not dSLRs. Apparently my Rebel dSLR is no threat; it was probably the camera of choice on site. The professional cameras used by the media these days are all in the $10,000 range and beyond.

The weather obliged by being clear. The sunny daytime portion was nice, but it was surprisingly chilly once the sun dipped below Stanley Park’s western rim. Fortunately, polar fleece isn’t a fashion faux pas in Vancouver. 

The last act I managed to photograph before my batteries died was Bryan Adams. As of late he's been touring an acoustic show. Just him and his acoustic guitar belting out the hits I remember from high school. I'd heard that his show, recently in Vancouver, was phenomenal. The reviews were correct. It's amazing how he re-created the classic guitar solos on his acoustic guitar, choosing only the essential notes. Maybe we just fill in the rest from memory, but it sure was effective. Tom Cochrane has similarly treated his old Red Rider material. I like it.

Stevie Nicks followed, and while she was a lot better than I had been expecting (being a luke-warm Fleetwood Mac fan), I didn't really get why she opened with a Led Zeppelin tune.

Sarah MacLachlan closed the show with an extra long set including two encores. The event did double duty by giving a gift of music to Vancouver in exchange for monetary gifts to fund Sarah's school of music for another year. All-in-all, a highly satisfactory exchange.

'57 Agave

OK, I admit it. I can be a bit obsessive sometimes. Especially about cars. And not all cars either. Specific cars, like vintage air-cooled Volkswagens.

Take this evening, for instance. I decided to write a catch-up blog post about a couple of events we attended over the last couple of weeks. But I got distracted (again) by compulsively checking a VW web site that posts cars for sale. I've been tracking a particular VW Beetle since February. It's an absolutely perfect '57, factory Agave green in colour. It was modified for performance by a club member of the legendary DBK (Der Blitzkrieg Kafers) Volkswagen club in California.

It was listed originally for $25,000, which really isn't exorbitant if you consider what it would cost today to reproduce it to such a  high level of quality. Probably double that amount, judging from photos posted by the seller. It looks like he bought a split and doesn't have room or time for two classic vintage VWs.

I didn't expect it would sell at 25 grand, but I also didn't expect it to still be on the market 7 months later. The price has steadily been dropping, but the funny part about it is the wording of the ad each time a new price reduction is posted.

In March the price fell by $2,000. But after that the seller seemed to dig in his heels. Every price reduction thereafter included the phrase, "Will not accept anything less than $(insert price here)."

Then in June it was, "Will not accept anything less than $20,000." And just last week a further revision appeared stating, "Will not accept anything less than $18,500." Well...quite obviously he will.

I tell ya, if my Lotto numbers perform for me this weekend (who can resist the allure of an office lotto pool?), I know exactly who I'm contacting. And the price is even less when you consider the Cdn/ US currency exchange rate right now. That knocks off about another 300 bucks.

It's almost come down to the level of another tempting Bug, this one in California. It's a '54 in very similar condition listed for $17,500. It's also dropped in price, but it didn't start out as high. They're both screamin' deals in terms of the value of existing parts and labour versus list prices.

Oh well, I'll drag myself away and continue concentrating on home renovations. We're actually making progress. The basement electrical wiring is getting finished this week, which will be followed by new drywall this winter, and of course painting and installation of lighting fixtures. That oughta keep my mind off vintage Volkswagens for a while.

It oughta, but I know it won't.

Oval time

I got thinking about passions recently. You know, things you’re really into. Things you’d do with your spare time, if you really had any spare time.

An uncle of mine passed away last week, and I decided to write down how he’d affected my life. It was a very productive exercise. As it turns out, he had a great impact on my central passion; dogs. And not just dogs in general, but specifically American Cocker Spaniels. Oddly enough, it wasn’t anything he did that fueled this specific passion; it was simply inviting us to visit in the Cariboo. You see, that’s where, as a kid, I was introduced to a Cocker Spaniel that was allowed to roam. He roamed into my sphere of interest and I kind of adopted him for the week or two that we stayed at my uncle’s lakeshore cabin. Then years later I did adopt a rescue Spaniel from the same area. I’ve had one ever since.

But this post is really about my second passion; air-cooled Volkswagens, specifically Beetles. To drill down even further, oval-rear-window Beetles; pre-1958 models.

I’ve never owned a pre-58 Bug before, but I did briefly have a ’55 Kombi, which in layman’s terms is a VW van sort of halfway between a panel van (no side windows) and a Deluxe Microbus, which had windows all around and even small rectangular windows along the roof perimeter. I sold it years ago however to partly finance post-secondary education. Now they’re priced into the stratosphere for a nice one.

I’ve been monitoring prices of air-cooled Ovals the last few years as our debts gradually get paid down. Maybe in a few more years I’ll be able to get back into VW ownership. A colleague at work recently noticed a vintage restored Beetle on my screen-saver. He commented on it, a bit unclear as to why I had chosen that image. When I explained my passion for these old cars he asked, “Wouldn’t you rather buy a BMW instead?” Well…no. We have a nice reliable car for daily transportation. I’d rather have that one and a vintage Oval than have one BMW in the garage. But that’s just me. 

There’s a site I follow almost religiously called The Samba. It’s almost completely devoted to air-cooled VWs. I follow the “New Car Ads” section, which incidentally doesn’t mean New Cars, but rather New Postings of Cars for Sale. Out of probably a dozen or two new ads every day that are posted, I’ve come across maybe a dozen-and-a-half pre-58 Bugs per year that I’d buy in a heartbeat if I had the money today.

Here are my 3 current favorites: 

No. 1 is a 1957 Oval Window, the body and interior fully restored to original style. The engine is about twice the displacement of the original and probably 6 or 7 times the horsepower. Of course the brakes and suspension have been aptly upgraded to complement the power increase. And to top it off, it’s a former DBK club car from California (a legendary car club from SoCal). And it’s listed for sale at about half what it would cost the average hobbyist to reproduce to this high level of finish and detail.

1957 Beetle sedan

2165cc with 48s

The second one is 3 years older but equally well restored and performance-modified. It was completely dis-assembled prior to re-painting. That’s by far the best way to go. It’s how these cars were originally painted at the VW factory. A custom cloth interior was installed; the early cars were a bit more stylish in terms of upholstery. If you look at late 60’s cars you’ll predominately find vinyl on the seats, door panels and headliner. I had a ’62 like that. It’s OK, but certainly not in the league of cloth. Again, this one’s also got a powerful engine, upgraded brakes and suspension, new wiring harness, etc; it’s basically a new car. And the price is at least half what it would cost someone to restore this 58-year-old car. I can’t understand how it hasn’t been snapped up yet.

1954 Oval sedan

Completely disassembled before being re-sprayed.

Cloth seats, headliner and door panels

The latest one that’s been posted is also a ’57, this one's closer to home in Washington state. All the bells and whistles of the previous two cars, but listed at significantly more money. I doubt it’ll sell at that price. That’s not to say it’s not worth the money. My wife may disagree with me, but the value in parts and labour on this car is probably twice what the owner is now asking for it. (BTW, the price on the first car has dropped about 4 grand since it was initially listed; actually dropped more than that more but the ad says you get lesser value wheels for the reduced price.)

1957 Oval sedan

Large displacement engine.

Stock-style interior; this one's done in vinyl.

The last one is a car I followed on The Samba quite a while ago for a few months until the price dropped low enough that someone took the bait. This one was (and is) a gorgeous piece of engineering. I saw a photo of the original car, just before the restoration started. A low-mileage non-rusty car; an ideal candidate.

Prior to restoration.

The original colour was retained for vintage curb appeal. To the uninitiated, aside from the lowered stance and custom wheels, it could be a stock Beetle. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth. A lot of thought went into carefully fitting a turbocharged engine into the space originally occupied by a 1200. The decklid fully closes, which is pretty rare for such a highly modified Bug.

1955 Oval sedan

Incredibly neat and detailed turbo-charged engine, all tucked beneath the stock decklid.

I could go on. There have been several more in the last couple of years I’ve had my eye on. I just hope that by the time finances permit such an extravagance, that cars of this calibre will still be within reach. The recent economic downturn has helped suppress prices (for me, that is), and the value of the Canadian dollar versus the US currency is in my favour now as well. I don’t anticipate any decline in this particular passion of mine anytime soon. If I can’t indulge in a purchase now, at least I can “live the dream” through the eyes of The Samba for now.

Fortunately my primary passion, my American Cocker Spaniel, is beside me right now, softy snoring.