A River Runs Through It

Next time we go sightseeing with my parents, I promise I'll remember to clean the windows first.

Our destination was the Blackfoot Recreation Corridor (map), a lovely chunk of road where the Blackfoot and MT 200 part ways for 17 or so miles. We took it East to West, beginning with this stretch of prairie.

Looking toward the Rattlesnake Wilderness

Tater Tot loves throwing rocks into water.

The wind-up.

And the pitch.

My parents (including Dad, above) wanted to take a roadtrip into the woods/mountains and we (and Ludwig) were happy to oblige. I had a minor ulterior motive for choosing this particular stretch of road, as it has a few campgrounds along it I wanted to check out.  

Looking toward the Garnet Mountains

Thibodeau Rapids

Melissa drove, Dad rode shotgun.

my Dad + camera = pictures of rocks

The road was forgiving--we didn't have to put on the chains once.

Definitely worth a second trip.

A relatively unexciting post concerning my admiration for Gertie

Disclaimer:

Mitch is often trying to get me to post more often to this blog. It's not technical, and it's not adventurous, and it's probably not even very interesting or exciting for anyone other than someone that drives or loves ACVWs. Well, it's probably not even interesting or exciting for these folks, but here it is:

Winter is fast approaching, and although I've been secretly feeling just a wee bit nervous about our somewhat recent (and unexpected) lifestyle change since winter is quickly approaching (you know, since Fang Fang was an AWD, and Montana winters aren't for sissies). Lately, driving Gertie is reminding me why my nervousness isn't warranted. There are so many reasons she is superior to other cars I've owned, even for winter-time driving. Really, I can't even explain how satisfying it is to tootle around town in Gertie as my our daily driver, but I'll try. 

• Gertie doesn't complain about driving in cold weather. She doesn't lug and it doesn't take a super long time for the transmission fluid to warm up.
• Gertie's engine warms up as quickly, or even faster, than other cars I've owned.
• Gertie's heater works better than any other car I've owned (and is second only to the '71 Beetle Mitch drove for awhile).
• I love that the snow doesn't melt off the hood. It makes the drive a little nicer, aesthetically.
• The flat little windows make scraping snow and ice a breeze.
• Gertie has the nicest transmission of any manual transmission car I've ever driven.
• Gertie is super peppy.
• Since Gertie's cozy, I can easily reach Esmé to hand her water, snacks, or whatever, in the backseat. (This may not seem like much of a plus, but if you've spent much time with a kid in a car you might sympathize.)
• Gertie is ridiculously easy to find in a parking lot.
• Family photos look a whole lot better.

Life's Work

Melissa rightly complained from pretty early on that Gertie had a tendency to reek of gasoline, particularly while cornering after fill-ups. Fuel could even sometimes be seen on the road behind the vehicle at these times, originating from the starboard front wheel well. Not cool.

I'm no genius, but I'm not really a dummy either, and having had these cars, off and on, for half my life (!), I knew what the deal was. There's a tube that runs from the filler neck back into the tank, so overfilled gas has somewhere productive to go. Gertie's tube was a shadow of its former self (above), and served only to allow gas an exit during left turns. Temporary solution: don't fill the tank much more than half full.

Next best solution: tape an oversize bolt into the hole in the filler neck, where the tube was supposed to go (above, left). A decent fix, actually, but somewhat lacking in grace. Best best solution: order a replacement tube (from ISP West), which is still an original VW part, amazingly (above, right). They must've used it on some other model long enough after the sun set on the Variant to justify its continued production. A small victory to be sure, but we Type III owners will take what we can get.

It was an easy enough installation, with Melissa working it into place while I pulled from the fender side. (Let's all just pretend that rust at left is value-adding patina, shall we?) When fitting rubber parts like these, use talcum powder (the whiteness seen here), and not grease, as a lubricant please.

Done.

The Tater Tot was napping during all this activity so Melissa thought it'd be a her chance to deal with a thorn in her side, the carpet sagging from the upper corners of the cabin. Less-than-ideal temperatures didn't seem to affect the adhesive she used, which now mightily holds up the carpet. While I was certainly in favor of this project, I didn't expect it to have as dramatic an effect as it did. Gertrude is much better looking for the application of a little glue, I have to say.

Melissa's work

As we were doing this stuff, I found myself wondering. I thought, if someone had told my 17 year-old self that at 35, a Type III would be the daily driver my wife and I used to haul our kid around in (and that our only other car would be an old VW camper), I probably wouldn't've batted an eye. If someone had told my 33 year-old self that this would be the case, I probably would've thought they were crazy. Life is weird.

Drive-by Splitty

I'm aware of maybe five Splitties in Missoula, ones that get driven anyway--trailer queens of course don't count.

This well-used fellow was parked on S 3rd W the other day, near the Orange Street Food Farm.

The kangaroo bar makes him even more handsome.