Poptop Hinge Replacement--with Video!

Ludwig's poptop scissor hinges have been bent--way bent--for as long as we've had him. We got newer ones off of a 1976 Westy and have been waiting for a good time to install them. Today was as good a day as any.

Bent.

Bent.

Note the patch Melissa had to put on as the canvas got caught up once and the scissor hinge acted more like a scissors and less like a hinge.

How did they get so bent? In cases where a vehicle is known to have been attended to by 02McDonald at some point in its life, any evidence of over-exertion of parts can normally be attributed to him. I don't think he is to blame here, however. I can't say as I ever examined the hinges during McDonald's tenure as owner/operator, but I do know that the funny bow in the fiberglass top predates his ownership of the bus. When we were camping with Gypsie a couple weeks back, he reported that the bow flexed in and out as Melissa and I raised or lowered the top. We would've never noticed something like that, as it took both of us inside Ludwig to get the top clamped down. It stands to reason then that the bow in the top was caused by the bent hinges, and therefore McDonald is off the hook.The base of this hinge is all corroded because of the mice that homesteaded in Ludwig sometime during his comatose years. The bolt I'm abusing here had also seen its share of mouse urine, and had turned all soft-like because of it. Gross.

Please allow me to assure you that any sexism seemingly apparent in the execution of this project is purely coincidental.

More mouse crap. Gross, gross. Will Ludwig ever be free of mouse excreta?

We'd always noticed that other Westies' tops sat up differently than ours, but it still took us by surprise just how bad Ludwig's was. Above, only the passenger side hinge has been replaced.

Let's test the new vs. the old, shall we?

It's not just that the old ones were bent; it's not readily apparent in the video, but the newer ones are designed differently and are clearly altogether much stouter.

Look at all that space between the rear of the top and the roof. It used to just rest on the roof. The canvas is much more taut now also.

And look at how much more room there is inside. It used to be that you couldn't sleep with your head(s) at that end unless you liked the taste of fiberglass. Now we can sleep either way, which means we have to worry less about getting Ludwig all level at campsites--we can just sleep with our feet pointed to the low end, whichever end that may be. The funny material on the mattress back there is where Melissa and her Mom replaced the original plaid that had been dissolved away by mouse pee. Gross, gross, gross. As I've seen original Westy upper-bunk mattresses dressed in this plaid (allegedly the third rarest of the plaids) go for up to $125 each, I think this repair is juuuust fine.

Well? How well does it work?

(In case you couldn't hear her, Melissa conservatively estimated the top to run "100% better". I would say it's more like somewhere between a bazillion and a kajillion percent better.)

While it may violate the principles of those who absolutely demand correct-year parts in their bus across the board, I wholeheartedly recommend this upgrade to anyone with the early style hinges. Us, we couldn't care less if Ludwig is spot-on stock (he does have a window crank salvaged from a 1980 Vanagon, after all), we just want him to work right. What's best is that we recycled good OEM parts and didn't have to resort to buying aftermarket garbage.

Two Medicine, Two Buses

Melissa and Tater Tot and I got up fairly early the next morning as I wanted to try some fishing. We did a lot of hiking around, scouting for spots to cast in. Our friend Karl had hiked all the way around Two Medicine Lake a couple weeks previous and had come within throwing distance from a black bear. We didn't see a single bear though. Eventually I wet my line in the river just downstream from Pray Lake. No luck. By the time I'd started (we'd been stomping around for at least an hour and a half) I think it was too late in the day and the fishies had scrambled for better hiding spots. Fishing is best around dawn and dusk, and since I don't see myself getting up with the sun while camping, I think I'll be more of an evening angler from now on.
Arriving back at camp, we made plans with the Floridians about hikes to take. We decided we'd hike to Appostoki Falls, a pleasant 1.2 mile (roundtrip) trail, and figure out what to do from there.

The trail took us through the forest to the rim of the canyon Appistoki Creek tumbles down. I was surprised at how sheer the cliff was, given how close the trail was to it. A single misstep and one could easily smash one's melon on the rocks thirty feet below. At a spot where the bank wasn't so steep I took a path down and got my hat wet in the ice-cold water. I love that.
After we got back to the trailhead Eliana and Marc decided to turn right and go to Running Eagle Falls (something we'd seen with Esther last year) to complete a virtual geocache there. We, however, were pretty tired after our full morning and hungry as well, so we went back to Ludwig for food, baby exercise (can't keep a baby in a pack all day), and naps.
When Eliana and Marc got back we talked about a hike to another waterfall, Twin Falls, past the far end of the lake. There's a boat that'll take you across the lake which shaves off a bunch of walking, and we all thought it sounded cool. However, we were just in time for the last boat of the day, meaning we'd get a ride there but not one back. We decided to do it the next morning instead. There was a nice little hike up and around the South side of the lake to a place called "Paradise Point", so we strolled off into the woods again; this time I carried Tater Tot in the Ergo, the first time since my appendectomy.
Hiking with that wriggling 15-pound baby in front of you is pretty strange, I must admit. You can't really see where you're stepping, your center of gravity is all off (and shifts when she moves), and she is quite a little radiator. It's not at all like wearing a backpack. After this little jaunt, I was impressed that Melissa was able to do the tougher hike earlier, especially since she's still regaining her strength from having that ol' baby.

Chilling out back at campsite 62

Several times over the last few days we had threatened Marc that we were going to teach Eliana how to drive a clutch, using Ludwig, but nothing came of it. We think she'd love Valentina even more if she could drive her.

That night we had a nice dinner and fire, and jumped into bed with full bellies. The boat was leaving at 9am, so the next morning we ate a quick breakfast, packed up Valentina and Ludwig, and got ready to roll down to the dock. Alas, Val wasn't having it and wouldn't start. The first thing that popped into my head was that I hadn't changed the condenser along with the points the day before. I really really didn't want to do it because, in lieu of that weirdo screwdriver, I knew we'd have to twist the distributor around to get at the screw holding the condenser down. And that meant we'd have to time Val again.

For some reason our first check of the coil didn't yield any spark, so I revised my diagnosis (such that it was) to suspect it instead. I put the offending coil in Ludwig and it worked fine. I put Ludwig's coil back in him and he wouldn't start. Oh. My. Gawd. Had I just doomed us as well? I took a moment to collect my thoughts (re: have a small nervous breakdown), then Melissa suggested popping Ludwig's clutch in reverse as he rolled backward to start him. She hopped in, it worked, and I made a mental note to never use the sole running vehicle as a test platform again. I replaced the condenser and got back to timing Valentina. I know that there is a lot of stuff you're supposed to do before you time an engine (valves, idle, et al.), but these were field conditions and I just wanted to get her as close to a real mechanic as possible.
Dialed in to 7.5 degrees BTDC, Val still wouldn't start. The key, popping the clutch: nothing worked. Looking into the engine compartment, Marc asked, "Hey, did you reattach this coil wire?" No, I hadn't. A typical stress-induced mistake. Wire back in place, Valentina came sputtering back to life and we took off toward Missoula.

She ran fine the whole way there.

(miles 218,741-218,946)

Epilogue

Valentina went to Mountain Imports for a complete physical and several things were found to be out of spec. She got what we all hope (fingers crossed) was a really good going-over, hopefully the last of her trip. We also gave her our spare spare for Northern BC and the Yukon. Eliana and Marc putted around Missoula for a couple days, telling Val that if something was on her mind, now was the time to speak up about it.

Without protest, Valentina allowed her crew to leave on Wednesday.

They got all the way to Calgary.

North by Northwest

It's been a busy Summer for us, filled with ACVW visitors and visitations, and this past week was our busiest yet. Eliana and Marc are a couple from Miami who are on an epic diagonal voyage across this great continent, from their home to Alaska. We heard tell of their trip on the Samba, a clearinghouse of vintage VW information and home to (probably) the biggest ACVW forum on the whole internets. We'd been planning on going to Glacier National Park one last time before our year pass ran out, and since it was on their way we decided to go together and give Valentina and Ludwig a chance to get to know one another.


They'd purchased their beautiful 1978 (truly one of the best years for bus engines) Westfalia on Valentine's Day (hence her name) this year and had just gotten her back from the shop before their departure. Unfortunately, they'd been having problems with her since early on in their trip, and by the time she'd gotten to Montana she'd been through several mechanics and a lot of tinkering already. But since having had her checked out in Bozeman a couple days before hitting Missoula, she seemed to be running okay. We met up behind our apartment early Wednesday evening and I took Marc on a drive in Ludwig to try to impress upon him the joys of having truck tires fitted to one's classic Type 2.


While out, we noticed copious smoke and commotion to the East, and wouldn't you know it but Mount Sentinel (the one with the "M" on it) was on fire. We went back for the gals to show them and watched the spectacle for a while. It got worse before it got better and eventually scorched nearly 400 acres. Our friend Ben has some better photos on his blog here.


Eliana and Marc wanted to see the National Bison Range on their way to Glacier, and left the next morning. We got a call late that afternoon that Val had a breakdown atop the range and refused to start. Several hours of fiddling later, the park rangers told Marc that they were going to have to get the bus towed. We had planned on meeting the Floridians at the Polson WalMart for the night anyway, so we just drove up and spent the night in Charlo behind the Senior Center instead. Valentina got worked on the next morning by Rochelle (who cut her mechanicking teeth on air-cooled VWs with her grandfather), who determined it was a weak ignition coil and maladjusted dwell. Ah, the pains of having a bad coil. Sometime in the late 1990s near Lincoln (NE) I came within a heartbeat of pushing my beloved 1967 Type 3 (Freida) into a creek over a coil problem (actually coil wire in her case). Marc and Eliana are shown above waiting for Rochelle to give Valentina the go-ahead.

(Obligatory artsy hubcap photo.)

Val was full of energy as we tooled past Flathead Lake and on up toward the park. In an instant it all changed and she wheezed to a stop a little past Hungry Horse. At Melissa's suggestion, Marc called Rochelle back in Charlo. Luckily he caught her as she was on her way out the door, and we both learned a thing or two (or three) from this small-town mechanic about troubleshooting the ignition system. Upon inspection it turned out that the points were the culprit--the little nylon rider that rides on the cam in the distributor had broken, slamming them shut and thus unable to offer any spark to the plugs. I replaced them, but lacking the proper teeny-tiny screwdriver I didn't replace the condenser, the points' partner in crime. Valentina easily roared back to life and we powered on.


Running well again, we stopped along US 2 at the Goat Lick overlook, where the road briefly passes through the park near its Southern tip. There's a spot there on the Middle Fork of the Flathead where Rocky Mountain Goats climb up the banks and lick the rocks. V & L took the time to steel themselves for the pass over the Great Divide just ahead (It--Marias Pass--is actually not all that bad). Above Melissa is showing everyone where we are in relation to everything else on the map. Eliana, the pair's shutterbug, took some good photos of the goats that you can see on their blog here.

Zipping down US 2.

A little later we arrived at Two Medicine Campground and pulled into this nice spot. Tops popped, camp struck, we settled in for a nice rest after a good day's driving. The meal was in a Mexican vein and the illicit fire was raging. Esmé slept like a rock. In fact, Melissa thinks she sleeps better in Ludwig than anywhere else. That's a good sign for us.
(to be continued)

(miles 218,529-218,741)

Chit(o)wn in the Zootown

A couple weeks ago it became known to us that a fellow member of a certain ACVW forum was coming through here, having bought a bus in Tacoma and needing to get it to the Windy City. He thought that Missoula made a natural first stop on his trip, and we offered to meet up with him for a spell.
He goes by chitwnvw and this is his newly-purchased '75 Westfalia Weekender. We might've said so before, but as I understand it a Weekender is a camper minus the pop-top. White has always been one of my favorite car colors so naturally I was a bit smitten. The blue/green plaid that they put in white Westies is my second favorite also (second only to the plaid that Ludwig and other brilliant orange '74-'75s have).

Note the weird mini-spare (it fits under the sink and inflates with a pump you plug into the mysterious silver socket) and chitwnvw's coral Crocs.

We told him about a couple campgrounds East of town and hope he had a good time wherever he stayed, and that the rest of his trip to the Second City went smoothly as well.

Ludwig reunites with the Gypsie Wagon

We met the Gypsie Wagon and family at the Deschutes River RendezVW just a few weeks ago. When they mentioned they were going to be vacationing in the Missoula area for the 4th of July, Mitch let them know we'd love to meet up with them while they were in town. And what's better than just meeting up with like-minded ACVW freaks? Camping with like-minded ACVW freaks! We headed out for a one-night trip Quartz Flat, just a jaunt up the road from Missoula.

Even though the Gypsie Wagon looks modern and newfangled compared to Ludwig, it's really only 6 years younger. And it's still air-cooled. (It's a 1980, and Vanagons were air-cooled until 1983 1/2. Mitch commonly says, "It's the biggest mid-year change in automotive history.")

One of my absolute favorite things is seeing how other VW folks camp. I LOVED the awning the Gypsies set up. They have a tarp clipped to the pop-top roof, and then the awning is supported by extending paint poles. Brilliant. The best part is they said it only cost about $12 (since they already had the poles). It's much better than our $10 setup at Maupin, although we'll try to set up ours more like this next time.

It was a pleasure to camp with such nice folks, who even shared some of their delicious fruit salad and fancy micro-brew beer with us. At night, when the daughters were both asleep in their respective vee-dubs, Gypsie played some tunes on his mandolin and we chatted around the campfire in to the wee hours of the morning. It was good times.

Very nice people, these Gypsie Wagon owners.

A surprising discovery on our way home was that the campground was on both sides of the interstate, connected under I-90 via this one lane tunnel.

Note to Gypsie daughter: Scruffy is on her way.

Air-Cooled and Itinerant, part II

After Colin headed south from Missoula, I kept asking Mitch if the visit was worth the money. I don't know much about keeping Ludwig healthy (although I'm learning), so I was pretty unsure of how much we actually gained from the few hours he and Colin talked and worked as E and I observed from the sidelines. Seeing Colin in action in Maupin completely assuaged all my concerns.
Colin was busy the entire weekend helping buses and their owners. But finally Sunday afternoon rolled around and when everyone but the stragglers left, Colin was ready for Ludwig. Mitch and Colin dove right in. The warm weather clearly was invigorating for him, because even though he had been working on other buses all morning (actually, all weekend) he showed no signs of fatigue.

The first order of business was adjusting the brakes. Then Colin looked over the chassis with Mitch, explaining what we're going to need to do to protect Ludwig's belly from rust.
Here Colin is explaining to Mitch how he should go about fixing the steering when the time comes. I'm pretty sure he also told him how to replace the brake booster too. My favorite part Colin's diagnoses wasn't just what needed repairs, but what part of the work might present challenges.

Like here, when they were removing and adjusting the shifter, Colin told Mitch that a particular spring was in good shape (which was good), but it meant it was going to be a real pain to get everything back together again.

We also learned that Ludwig's engine is several inches further back than it ought to be, although I don't remember why that is. At any rate, it isn't problematic.

One aspect of Colin's teaching that I really liked was how he was always (at least) one step ahead. He instructed Mitch on what to do, frequently offering demos, answering questions and working along side him. And while Mitch dutifully worked away as instructed, Colin would slide under the bus and diagnose the next adjustment. Then when one repair/adjustment was complete Colin would quickly and clearly explain the next needed adjustment and provide the appropriate tutelage. The entire process seemed very efficient and it was informative even from a bystander's point-of-view.

Although I didn't get any pictures of it, my FAVORITE accomplishment was the fuel line repairs. One section of line was replaced and some new line was rigged up to dump smelly fumes directly in to the top of the air filter. Now we can finally ride fume-free in the cabin without having to crank all the windows wide open. Oh, and Colin told us how to replace the windshield wiper motor (with one provided by PJ; thanks Peter!) through the top of the dash. Thank goodness, because we thought we'd have to remove the parcel tray and access the motor from underneath.
Then Ludwig was taken for the obligatory end-of-visit test drive. You can see him happily barreling down the highway (up and to the right of Colin's (no-named (he's not even sure of the gender) bus) in this photo. I just hope we can get everything that he advised done before his next visit.

(Did I remember to mention that Colin whistles as well as any Disney character while he works? But not in the snow/rain.)

Air-Cooled and Itinerant

There's this guy, see. And every Summer for the past five (?) years, he's driven around the country in his 1973 passenger bus keeping appointments with mostly bus owners, showing them the ins and the outs of their beasts.

We were happy to get him (let's call him "Colin" because that's his name) to Missoula on 11 June. He was less so. It wasn't anything we did, but it turns out that Colin has more of an affinity for warm weather. We can't blame him (or anyone) for expecting decent weather in early June, but this is the Northern Rockies and Missoula has recorded snowfall in every month of the year. So naturally it snowed the morning of his visit and was cold (ca. 34F) and rainy the rest of the day.

To his infinite credit, Colin was willing to work with us in our impromptu $10 WalMart garage, complete with cardboard flooring. After some time in the apartment going over all sorts of things, we took it outside. The first order of business was a valve adjustment. I did the work and Colin audited.

Colin generally hydrates himself solely with Diet Coke, but on this day we had to supply him with coffee (black) to keep his blood from congealing. Above we are timing the engine.

I believe that Colin in this picture is either scolding me for making some unwarranted and dangerous assumption about Type IV engine operation, or expressing his disbelief that seemingly rational people would voluntarily live in such a climate.

Normally Colin wears little more than a tank top and oh-so-short shorts. I was secretly glad that, at least, the weather forced him to don a more civilized outfit.

With the engine tuned and running (as well as it can with its two mortal flaws: a 009 and a Weber carburetor; Colin made us promise Ludwig that we'd rectify these errors as soon as money allows) we took the bus for the mandatory drive. He tries to get a real feel for the vehicle, as most of us owner/operators don't have a standard benchmark with which to compare as Colin does--his immaculately running '73. I also got a lesson on how to (properly) double-clutch for downshifts.

There was a scary moment during the drive when this young lady in a Ford Taurus nearly (and I mean nearly) smacked us in the rear passenger corner. It was an unregulated intersection, and Colin got out to talk with her about what had almost happened. He wasn't mean or anything; he's not like that. We were both impressed by Colin's quick wits and with Ludwig's Teutonic sportscar-like response. Whew.

Late in the afternoon, Colin told us he'd had it with the weather and that he was calling the day short (they normally go from 9am-7pm). But it wasn't like he abandoned us in disgust. He knew we were going to Maupin the next day, and pledged to give us the balance of our time there that weekend. So we saw him off ("South!" was his only indication of where he was headed next) into the dank Western Montana evening.

The weather was 70F and sunny the next day.