Ghia Rescue 2006 by Al Brashear Staring out the window from Southwest Airlines from 35,000 feet in late October, I took in the Southern California wildfires sweeping across the horizon. Thankfully, that’s a sight not seen on every flight. It looked like I had a ticket to hell. I had to wonder what the next two days had in store for me, “rescuing” a Karmann Ghia “that ran” so far from home, but so far (and to date) no VDub has ever let me down… and I couldn’t let wildfires take a Ghia! Landing in Ontario, I had to wait overnight at Chino for the semi-truck toppling, fire fanning Santa Ana winds to subside, so the owner of the red’69 could pick me up and take me to his home in Apple Valley. I’d spend many a day wondering Chino checking out the WWII warbirds. But this time I had no ride, and no time, to get to the airport to feed my warbird addiction. So close… but the first job was picking up the car, and feeding the air-cooled addiction. The reports of the wind, and the wait, were justified - on the freeway we passed several blown over trucks. The seller reported the fire hadn’t reached Apple Valley, but there were no guarantees. We got to the house without being blown over or scorched, and from walk around, to first turn of the key, the car sure seemed reliable. No rust, no visible leaks, great paint and interior, it idled fine. The cashier’s check and title changed hands ($3000 – it was one of my best buys ever) and I was on the way to the gas station. On my own. The only problem reared its head shortly after getting gas. I was out of town and stopping at a stop sign at a dusty, barren intersection leading to the interstate… and the car died. Of the myriad thoughts going through my mind in that moment (Like, I am now stranded in the middle of NO where), the first reaction was to turn the key – and it cranked right back up. As the rest of the trip proved, if I used my left foot on the clutch, my right toes on the brake, and my right heel on the accelerator – WhaTUsi! - I could keep the car from dying at idle. It drove fine at all other speeds. That summer of 2006 was pretty darned hot, and I was really looking forward to a cool down in October, but the Mohave Desert wasn’t the place to find it. The little Ghia drove me by iconic Edwards Air Force Base, up and across the mountains to I5, and then up to my overnight at Tom Bodett’s in Sacramento, windows down without a hitch. All the rest of the trip was thankfully uneventful – how did the Muppets put it? A bear in its natural habitat - a Studebaker! - until Portland, when I introduced the Ghia to her first Pacific NW rainstorm. I went for the wipers. Left blade. Then right blade. Then both blades goin’ CRAZZZEEE. Back to left blade. Then right blade, repeat. And then there was traffic, and here I am on all three pedals again with just two feet tap dancing in solid traffic. The feet are doin’ the Whatusi. The wipers are doin’ the Whatusi. The rain is howling, and then I’m over the bridge and the rain stops, so the wipers can stop, and the traffic thins out, and no more dancing. I get to relaaaaaxxxx. And my joy was at its zenith. All was right with the world. Right about Kelso, I’m thinking, “I’m actually in range of Seattle now. The Ghia is going to keep running without leaving me stranded. Even if it broke down here, I'm close!” Olympia passes behind, and the Ghia is purring… …but I managed to time my arrival in the Southcenter (Tukwila) area RIGHT at 5 PM… with another rainstorm… coupled with a major windstorm. You know it! GRIDlock! The traffic was bumper to bumper from Southcenter to Kenmore. The rain is driving. Of course, it gets dark. 2 hours of all three pedals moving and the wipers goin’ NUTS. What IS it, in the Sound, when the rain starts and people INSTANTLY forget how to drive???? But she got me home. Mike solved the idle problem, the wipers were sorted out, and I had a beautiful red Ghia for about a year. Sadly, with realty in 2008 as it was, my stewardship of this little ’69 was short lived – the bubble burst just a little too soon. The uptick, I sold it to a gent in GUAM for double the purchase price! But while I had her, she was such a great little car. I’m sold on ’69 Ghias now - the year with the IRS rear suspension and still without the hideous tail lights; so sold, in fact, that I thankfully now have yet another ’69 that should have been left to the scrap heap. Even though I’m behind the wheel of a different vin number, the memory of driving the red ’69 past Edwards Air Force Base, saving it from the wildfires… hauling up mountains… experiencing the Great American Adventure in a classic with thumbs ups from other car owners on the way… is still pretty bright. True. It’s a very good recommendation to buy locally. Still, my experiences have led to marvelous adventures, and that is a big part of the air-cooled experience for me. In the future, I may finally take the advice and stick with my cars that are known – and perfectly maintained by Mike Schmitt - and take them on adventures from here. Hmmm. Route 66 anyone? That said… there are some great VDubs to be had in Brazil… Maybe a Brasilia! ROAD trip! |
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