Today, I would like to share with you guys the story of how I found my 1966 VW bus. You have to forgive me for the lengthy story that you are about to read but I found it necessary to also narrate how my love affair with vintage VWs migrated from bugs to buses. Hopefully none of you will doze away while reading my story. So, here goes…
One of the guys I know who is an ardent VW hobbyist is Bob (Not his real name to protect his identity and privacy.). Back in 2009, Bob asked me if I want to buy his 1967 Westfalia bus for $11,000. Bob have owned the bus for a few years and wants to sell it. Bob is one of those guys who is very shrewd and sometimes can be unethical or unfair when it comes to making deals. Because of this, I do business with him with extreme caution using a 10-foot pole.
The story of how Bob acquired his bus dates back about 7 years ago. Bob was doing some repair work on someone’s Volkswagen bug when he spotted the 1967 Westy parked inside one of the neighbor’s garage. He asked the owner if he is willing to sell the bus but the owner said that he was not interested in parting ways with his bus. Being a persistent person, Bob visited the bus owner every 5 months just to check if the owner has changed his mind. After 3 years of visiting the owner, Bob’s persistence paid off because the owner agreed to sell the bus to Bob for $7000.
I still remember the afternoon when Bob drove his 67 Westy to my house to show off his find. He was overly ecstatic, like a kid who just met Mickey Mouse at Disneyland for the first time. When I asked where the side tent was, Bob said that the owner promised to give it to him on a later date. I asked him if he already gave the former owner the full amount of $7000. When Bob said that he did, I told him that was not a wise move because it does not obligate the owner to handover the tent. Bob brushed off my concern but he later admitted that I was right because he never got the tent and the former owner avoided meeting him whenever he calls. I guess Bob got too excited in owning the Westy that he threw caution out the window.
After owning the bus a few years, Bob said that he was having some financial problems and wanted to sell his 67 Westy. Since he wanted to keep the Westy local, he offered it to me for $11,000. Though it was a good vehicle, there was a small rust hole on one of the rear corners which kind of bothered me.
One rainy evening, I was surprised to receive a call from Bob who asked me if he could come over my house. I said, “ok” but was a bit puzzled as to why he would want to visit me on an evening when rain was coming down in sheets. After 10 minutes, Bob appeared in front of my house a bit wet from the rain. His face registered stress. I asked him what’s going on? He just went straight to the point and asked me if I am willing to buy his bus for $9,000. Though that is a very good price for a 67 Westfalia, that rust hole in the rear corner still bothered me. I told Bob that I won’t be able to buy his bus. I saw disappointment filled his face. To make up for it, I served him dinner and we just talked over about VWs over a cup of coffee.
A week later, Bob asked me if I could drive his 1965 single cab bus, which he filled with old VW parts, and he will follow me in his 1967 Westy. Our destination was the OCTO (Orange County Transporter Organization) swap meet at Huntington Beach. The following day, Bob came by my house at 4:30am and we headed towards the swap meet. It was my first time to drive a pre-1967 VW bus and it felt different….Superbly different. It was at that moment two blocks away from my house when I said to myself, “I have got to own one of these machines”.
When we arrived at the OCTO swap meet, Bob immediately posted a big ‘for sale’ sign on the windshield of his Westy and wrote--$12,000. I was surprised because many bus owners came by and asked, “Why are you selling this bus so low?” We were expecting a buyer to pounce on the deal at any minute but nothing happened. There were many lookers and “I’ll-think-it-over” buyers, but no serious offers. We were already packing up to leave when a European guy came over and asked if he could test drive the bus. He drove it for a short distance around the parking lot and seemed quite interested. He took Bob’s phone number and then left.
The following day, Bob called me and told me that he finally sold the bus and the buyer is the European guy. There was a little bit of haggling and they settled at $11,500. Bob did not take a down payment and waited for the buyer to come by with the whole amount.
When the European buyer finally came by, Bob, for some weird reason, decided to put back the selling price to $12,000. Bob became adamant that his original price be met before he would sign the title of his Westy. The buyer became furious questioning Bob’s business integrity saying, “We made a gentleman’s deal”! Bob simply disregarded the original agreement and told the buyer that if he wants to buy the Westy, he will have to pay the full amount. The buyer did not have a choice and had to angrily pay the additional $500.
Everyday after that bus show at Huntington Beach, I had been on a hunt for my bus. A month after Bob sold his Westy, I was checking the internet late one evening when I spotted a 1966 VW Riviera bus for sale in Oregon. I am not going to reveal the price of the bus but it was a good one. One thing I noticed is that the advertisement had just been sitting in the internet for about 30 minutes. I called the phone number posted on the ad and a guy answered the phone. I think his name is John. He introduced himself as the friend of the owner who was then visiting a relative in another state. I asked John how many people have called regarding the bus and he said that I was the second one. The first call came from a guy living in Rhode Island but the guy wants to take off $2000 from the price to cover for the shipping cost that he will incur to ship the bus to him.
I studied the pictures of the 1966 bus carefully and they looked good. I don’t know if you guys ever experienced something like this but when I saw the picture of the bus, it immediately spoke to me like it wants to come home with me. It was then that I closed my eyes and told John, “OK, I will buy the bus. Can you please remove the advertisement now?” John gladly took the ad off while I was on the line and assured me that the bus is mine.
The reason why I asked to have the advertisement taken down is to make sure that nobody else sees the bus and bids higher than the selling price. I have learned this important move from a bad experience where I lost a good deal on a 1962 VW bus. Well, that’s another story that I will share on another article.
The following day, I spoke to the owner of the bus over the phone and I told her that I will bring in the whole amount when I picked up the bus. The bus is at John’s house located at a town called “The Dalles” in the state of Oregon.
I called Avis rental car and reserved a small car for 4 days. The last thing I need in this trip is a travel mechanic and no one else is available except Bob. For some reason, Bob just happen to drop by my house that afternoon looking depressed. He was fired from his job a few weeks earlier and is struggling to pay his bills. I offered him $100 to be my travel mechanic for 3 days which he gladly accepted.
Before the sun rose from the east the following day, Bob and I picked up the rental car at John Wayne airport Avis office. We immediately pointed the nose of the vehicle north towards Oregon. Fortunately, it was the start of the spring season and we saw a sea of colorful wild flowers decorating meadows and hills along the way. We took a wrong turn somewhere near San Francisco which caused us an annoying 1 hour delay to our trip.
It was already late in the afternoon when we got to the mountainous area near the California-Oregon border when we spotted what looked like a Volkswagen junkyard along the freeway. I instinctively exited the freeway to have a closer look on what we just saw. We found a small building and decided to knock on the front door. An old man answered the door and we asked permission if we could check out the place. Upon learning that we were VW hobbyists, the man gladly welcomed us. We were surprised to see a splitty inside the building. The son of the old man was then sanding the body of the bus to remove the layer of paint to expose its original paint which I think was turquoise or grey. At the end of the building was a shiny 1964 bug that is fully restored.
Like every bug or bus owner that we meet, it is always tempting to ask if their VWs are for sale. In this occasion, we popped the question. The old man told us, “Everything is for sale here at the right price”. I then asked, “Including that bus?” The old man nodded and said, “Yes, including that bus. But you will have to ask my son because that’s his bus”. The old man said that he is selling his bug for $9,000 and the bus for about $10,000 to $12,000. I cannot recall the exact amounts anymore because the incident happened a few years ago. Bob got a bit exacted (as he usually does) and wanted to make a deal with the bug. I asked Bob, “Did you bring that kind of cash with you?” He replied, “Not today but I can go back here on a later date and pay the guy”. I had to knock some sense into Bob and so I told him, “Dude, you lost your job, you are struggling to pay your bills and now you want to squeeze money out of your savings just to buy a bug that we just saw for the first time 30 minutes ago? Will you knock it off!”
I, on the other hand, am attracted to the bus inside that building. But I have to remind myself that there is a 1966 bus sitting in the state of Oregon waiting for my arrival. Though I was beginning to fall for the bus that is before me in that building, I also haveto wake myself up to the reality that I cannot afford to buy two buses in one day. It was Bob’s chance to retaliate by telling me to “Knock it off” also.
We went behind the building and there were old VW parts strewed all over the place and on piles. In the middle of the yard is another split window that has an engine but does not run. The owner said that they are selling that one for a substantially lower price. I think the price was about $3000(?) $4000(?), I forgot. The old man said that he can load the bus on his trailer and deliver it to Los Angeles for about $1100. Huh?!
We left the place with our wallets still intact. It took about a hundred miles before Bob was able to stop talking about the shiny 64 bug in that old building and what he would have profited by selling it in southern California.
We were already passed the Oregon-California border when I decided to look for a motel so that we can spend the night and get some sleep. Bob kept on insisting that we push forward. I told him that I was already exhausted and need some sleep. Besides, I need a hot shower after listening to Bob’s nonsense for 100 miles about the 64 bug.
Early the following day, I woke up with a terrible headache after only sleeping for 4.5 hours. The weather did not help lighten my mood because it was drizzling a little bit. Before hitting the freeway, we drove to a gas station. Small towns also have matching small gas stations and the one we found was manned by a two-man crew.
(In the state of California, majority of the gas stations pumps are self-serve. There are a few stations that still offer ‘full service’ option when pumping gas. The full service option charges more but you get to stay inside your vehicle and the attendant can even do a quick check of your engine if you wish them to do so.)
When I drove to the small gas station, one of the attendants waved me towards one of their pumps. After stopping next to the pump, I asked the attendant why they don’t have a self service option. The attendant explained to me that all gas stations in the state of Oregon only offer full service because it is the state law. I then asked if there was an additional charge for the service and the attendant said that there is no additional charge. After paying the attendant with my credit card, Bob asked me, “Should we give a tip?” I told Bob, “It was their bright idea of making this whole full service deal their law so I ain’t giving them a tip”.
As we pushed further north the weather became temperamental hitting us with heavy rain and wind. During the last 85 miles to our destination, the clouds opened up its bomb bays dosing us with storm-like downpour. When I finally arrived at my destination, I was met by a tall guy who looked like a lumber jack. Though his stature showed toughness, he was a very lively person to talk to.
After paying John the agreed price for the bus, Bob and I drove to the nearest parts store to change the engine oil of the bus. When we parked at the auto parts store, two guys approached us and started asking about the bus. One of them asked me if I am willing to sell the bus to him. I told the guy that I just bought it and it is currently not for sale. It’s been only 30 minutes since I bought the bus and I already have another person wanting to buy it from me.
During the first mile driving back to California, I became worried if the bus will survive the 1200 mile trip back home. I told Bob, who was following me carrying all the tools and spare parts, that I will not travel faster than 60 miles an hour since I am not sure on the condition of the engine. The engine sounded fine but I don’t know if there are hidden things that will break down in it. Rain battered us along the way and when evening came, the temperature started to plummet.
I don’t know what came over Bob but after we passed the city of Portland, Oregon, he started asking me if I am willing to sell him my bus. “Oh no, are you going to pester me about this all the way to California?”, I asked. Because of the small capacity of the gas tank of the pre-67 buses, I had to fill it with gas every 200 to 250 miles. During these short stops, Bob would try to make a deal with me. He would ask me, “Why don’t I trade my 1965 single cab with you plus cash. Do we have a deal?” I declined his offer. He then countered, “How about just cash in installments and you keep my 65 single cab as collateral?”...And this went on and on for 1200 miles. Almost drove me bananas!
During the trip, I became really worried when we reached the mountainous area of the Oregon-California border. I told Bob to watch the engine of the bus if I am trailing any smoke to indicate that the engine is overheating. I started to pray hard whenever I see the road turn to a steep climb. To my surprise, the bus was able to slowly climb up the mountain without a problem. It was already 2:30am when I told Bob that I can hardly keep my eyes open. I don’t know where we were at that point and so I called Bob in the cell phone and told him we need to pull over and find a safe place to park and sleep. We found this open area full of parked semi-trailer trucks. We decided to park there and catch a few hours of sleep. Bob slept inside the car while I slept inside the bus. I unfolded the bed and went to sleep. I woke up about 1.5 hours later with my whole body shivering from the cold. “Why is it so darn cold inside this bus?”, I thought. I opened the door and ice cold air hit my whole body. It was probably 20 degrees Fahrenheit (-6.6 Celsius) outside. I immediately closed the door and looked at the walls of the bus and realized that the walls did not have any insulation that is why it is acting like an ice box. Let me tell you, pissing outdoors in a 20 degree weather is a challenge because I can’t help shiver uncontrollably and I acted like a lawn sprinkler watering close to 180 degrees in front of me. We found out later that the place we stopped was located on top of a mountain area. No wonder it was freezing.
I slept inside the rental car instead and after a few hours of sleep, Bob and I continued our journey. The more we drove south to California, the more the weather improved. One of the things that I noticed whenever I fill the tank with gas is the gauge needle does not seem to go all the way to the “F” level. We were somewhere in Sacramento (the capital of California) when I checked the fuel gauge and the needle is almost to the empty level. Thinking that I still have some fuel left, I continued driving. I was talking to Bob over the phone on one of his attempts to hammer out a deal regarding my bus when all of a sudden, the engine of the bus cough and quit. To my horror I thought, “Oh no, this can’t be happening. Not in the middle of nowhere”. When I checked the engine, I noticed that bubbles came out of the fuel filter—I ran out of gas! I guess I need to trust the gas gauge to avoid this problem. Bob drove to the next town and brought back a can of gasoline.
When we finally arrived in Los Angeles, we hit heavy traffic, which is what LA is known for second to the high crime rate. When I got home, both Bob and I can’t believe that my bus survived the 1200-mile drive. It was a risky decision but our gamble paid off.
Three weeks after I bought my bus, the coupling in the shift rod broke. The one that was in it was still the original coupling. I drove the bus home from work on third gear. Fortunately, the coupling did not break during our trip back to California because we did not bring a spare coupling.
Are you still awake?
Below are the pictures that I took during our trip to Oregon.
