When I was 17, my Dad bought me a Volkswagen Beetle. It had been banged up in an accident, and the previous owner had to use rope to keep the door shut. But my Dad was pretty handy around cars, and he put it back together like new, then coated it in a shiny tan-colored coat of paint called “Sahara Sand”. I loved that car. I learned to handle a standard shift and clutch in that little bug, and kept her for a couple of years. It was my freedom, my ticket to ride.
Here’s a neat video about a German car maker that has taken auto making to a new level. It begins — and ends — with a Beetle similar to mine.
Ahhhhhh yes. Great memories! Beetle mania had more than one meaning in the 60’s. My first was a 1965 Fontana Grey/Fontanagrau in which I tooled around the Rocky Mountains freezing my arse off in the Wintertime due to the inadequate forced hot air heater system. Such fun – and never needed traction control because the little guy was quite adept at getting me over Loveland Pass on US 40 in the dead of Winter blizzards with no chains. (pre I70 Eisenhower tunnel days),