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posted on June 11th, 2015 at 08:50 PM
Project Peanut: Part 2 - Trailer Time
Hey guys, Just a quick heads up!
Whilst this is obviously a build thread, I'm going to attempt to make it into more of long story, rather than just 'another build thread'. I enjoy
writing, so I may as well do something with that and combined two passions into one! So feel free to comment away and ask anything you want, and I'll
be trying to keep it regular and entertaining along the way!
Cheers,
Ollie
----
It's pretty rare these days that anything is done for free.
Everything seems to come at a price: whether it be measured in monetary value or some sort of agreed future deal, everything seems to owe something,
to someone...
I was asked about a year ago by a friend at work if I was interested in purchasing an old beetle off him.
The story went that he has inherited a beetle from a passing Uncle, who had spent some time fixing bits and pieces before his death.
I was told he knew of his fate, and as a result, all he wanted before he passed was a beetle to tinker with and restore. Unfortunately, death is a
cruel mistress, and she came for him before he had the chance to see it back onto the road, so it came into the possession of my friend, who, whilst
interested in it, didn't share the same passion as his uncle.
He didn't know much about the beetle, other than that it was old, and has had a new paint job back in the day, but now was sitting in his
grandmother's (Nonna's) garage in pieces, awaiting further care. Was I interested? No. I already had a 1969 beetle and wasn't interested in another
at that time.
A year passed, and I was in the midst of selling my '69 bug, when my friend approached me again, with the same question,
"Do you want the beetle?"
I still didn't know much about this mysterious beetle, but wasn't in any financial situation to be paying for another bug, so I explained how light
my wallet was, and that I couldn't afford anything of the sort.
He laughed. "No mate, do you want it?"
Want it? Was he mad? No one gives away anything of value nowadays, so I figured perhaps it was a run of the mill beetle destined for the scrap heap.
Curiosity had grabbed me though, so before I politely declined, I asked a single question, "What year is it again?"
"Not too sure, but its got one of those small round rear windows."
Oh...
Two days later, trailer in tow, I was on my way to Nonna's house to see If this treasure map through time would land me in a pot of Volkswagen gold.
Had I even seen a speck of proof that this Bug was the real deal?
Was he wrong?
Had I just hired a trailer to haul back my broken dreams, rather than a beautiful barn find?
I waited patiently whilst this lovely little lady laboured through her set of seemingly endless keys, before she found the one that slid into the
garage lock with ease, unlocking all the secret questions that had been trapped in my mind for days...
And there she was. In all her beauty. An Australian delivered, 1957 Oval Window Volkswagen Beetle. (Well, maybe not the pan, but hey, no one if
perfect, right?)
Surrounded by the odour of fermenting grapes and a fine dusty mist, she stood just as she had been left, a little time capsule from years past.
Time to roll her out.
Wait, will it roll?
better turn the steering wheel to line her up just right.
Oh, no steering wheel.
OK then, lets just hope for the best.
Out under the bright morning sky, things were looking seriously promising. Even my father (who I'm sure by now, regrets taking me to my first motor
show) was impressed. Sure, the guards were wrong, the tint seemed to hark back to Sydney's Sex-Spec Scene, and the colour wasn't my cup of tea, but
all in all it looked straight!
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posted on June 13th, 2015 at 07:45 PM
Top score!
Get some chrome back into the window rubbers, sort the height issue out, knock an inch either end off the ball joint beam, fit a set of 4 stud Sprints
and roll that bad boy!
Flintstones
Custom Title Time!
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posted on June 13th, 2015 at 08:49 PM
Congrats to you!
Can't wait for the chapters to begin....
Ollie
A.k.a.: Ollie Clarke
Insano Dub Head
Yeah Buddy
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posted on June 14th, 2015 at 11:34 PM
Thanks for all the kind words! I'm still not too sure of the colour myself, but who knows, perhaps it'll rub off on me and I'll end up
keeping it. Steve, I've promised the owner he will be part of the process, and happy to incorporate some of his late uncle's ideas into the finished
product As for now, part Two...
Trailer Time.
----
I'll be honest. I'm pretty useless when it comes to fixing things myself. I'm not what you call, 'mechanically minded'.
So much so that I make my a living shooting video and making pretty pictures for people to enjoy.
The only grease my fingernails have covered have come from a tripod or light stand.
And I'm as well equipped to pass you the correct spanner in a time of need, as I am to sing a duet with Cher on a packed Vegas evening.
However, I've promised myself that I would change all that. No more would I be passing over my hard earned currency for simple jobs that could be
done at home. It was time for me to become a man.
And my first test? Putting my newly acquired Bug on a car trailer.
With no Steering wheel to turn my Beetle-shaped-shell of luck, I quickly discovered that without a motor, petrol tank or interior to speak off,
pivoting the tires by themselves was rather easy, and before long I had it out the drive way, across the street and lined up easily with the trailer
that would take her home.
Winch? Check!
My father, brother and I made slow pace as we slowly pulled little Peanut up the precariously placed ramps, constantly checking to make sure all the
wheels were on, and it wasn't going to slip off at any moment. "Yup! You're fine on this si... Oh, Wait! Ok No you're fine. Little more. Little
more. Little more..."
We sounded like a poorly oiled machine. Anyone that tells you it's a piece of cake loading up a car is a liar. I don't care how many times it's
done, if you care about what you're loading, there will always be moments of stress and worry.
After more profanities than a Hell's Kitchen Marathon, Dad, my brother and I managed to ratchet the car down (best we could!) and, much like a pilot
doing his pre flight checks, we stood back to admire our handiwork.
Marvelous.
We took off, taking the M2 back toward home base.
Now, I've seen enough Michael Bay movies to know what happens when things go awry, and my mind was racing overtime with all the death and destruction
that we could have caused everything went wrong. We stopped to check. And Stopped again. And again. And again.
I knew taking the plunge of picking up this mystery shell had paid off when, cruising along slowly in the left lane, a biker shot past at break neck
speed. His tail light lit up like a Christmas tree, and before I knew it he had slowed down to our pace. He saddled up next to us, looking as closely
as his bike would allow him to the shell. The inquisitive rider sped up slowly, gave us all a big thumbs up of appreciation before bolting for the
horizon, leaving a grin plastered across all our faces.
Completely Worth it.