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Greetings, People of Stanceworks!
I wish to introduce you to Kermit. Kermit is not a Muppet, but he does look rather much like a frog.
Googly eyes? Check.
Nosebleed stance? Check.
Haunches that look ready to spring? Check.
It's not his fault though. Blame the Volkswagen factory that hatched him back in 1973. The ones who gave him that Sumatra Green paint and the froggy face.
So without further ado, here's Kermit:
Kermit came into my care in August, after an exhaustive but futile search for a decent Beetle. A late model Type 3 Fastback was not my idea of the perfect aircooled VW, but my crazed VW nut friend Elisha (IamParadox) coerced me into trekking deep into the backwoods of Vermont to see the car, which belonged to an old acquaintance of his and had just popped up on Craigslist for $750.
When we arrived, I was much more interested in the seller's collection of vintage British cars and parts, than seeing what we had come to see. The gentleman operates a word-of-mouth parts business out of a very large multi-level barn, and plays with Volkswagens in his free time. He also asked us to not use his name or give his location if we ever told this story, citing a strong desire to keep "The Man" far away from his little slice of heaven.
After touring his property for nearly an hour, I finally laid eyes on the Fastback for the first time. To be honest, I didn't like it. It looked really tired, the body had extensive cancer, and the interior was a disaster. I left that day with every intention of continuing my search for a Beetle, and letting the ratty old Type 3 fade from memory.
But something about it got to me. It was understated, but different. It looked somewhat like a Beetle, but a little off. And then Elisha decided to make a photochop of an idea he'd been floating around, and sent it to me while I was at work:
I was waivering. I was desperate for a slammed aircooled project, and the sight of those big Heritage wheels tucked up inside the fenders of that Fastback made my balls tingle unexpectedly. It was like seeing the nerdy, prudish girl from highschool wearing a string bikini for the first time.
The clincher came a week later, when I encountered the seller at a local gas station, and he informed me that the price was now $500, delivered. I didn't exactly jump on it, but very soon thereafter, money changed hands, a bill of sale was written, and that tired old VW found a new home in my driveway. Well, my grandparents' driveway, actually. I didn't ask them ahead of time. It's a wonder I'm alive.
At this point I was excited. Elisha ambitiously assured me that he could have the old fuel-injected flat four running in no time, and I was having visions of bombing around the yard in the rusty green deathtrap before winter.
To his credit, he did everything he could, but there's a point where 30 year old wiring just isn't going to cut it. Unfortunately, it was early December before we finally said "fuck it" and bought a set of dual carbs. And December in New Hampshire is not condusive to projects, when you lack a permanent garage and power tools. So we dropped the engine and took it to Elisha's shop, which is 50 miles northeast of my place, but has real walls and a woodstove and electricity.
And that brings us to now. I've been posting updates on the Oppo forum, so most of my future posts will probably be cut and pasted from there.
I wish to introduce you to Kermit. Kermit is not a Muppet, but he does look rather much like a frog.
Googly eyes? Check.
Nosebleed stance? Check.
Haunches that look ready to spring? Check.
It's not his fault though. Blame the Volkswagen factory that hatched him back in 1973. The ones who gave him that Sumatra Green paint and the froggy face.
So without further ado, here's Kermit:
Kermit came into my care in August, after an exhaustive but futile search for a decent Beetle. A late model Type 3 Fastback was not my idea of the perfect aircooled VW, but my crazed VW nut friend Elisha (IamParadox) coerced me into trekking deep into the backwoods of Vermont to see the car, which belonged to an old acquaintance of his and had just popped up on Craigslist for $750.
When we arrived, I was much more interested in the seller's collection of vintage British cars and parts, than seeing what we had come to see. The gentleman operates a word-of-mouth parts business out of a very large multi-level barn, and plays with Volkswagens in his free time. He also asked us to not use his name or give his location if we ever told this story, citing a strong desire to keep "The Man" far away from his little slice of heaven.
After touring his property for nearly an hour, I finally laid eyes on the Fastback for the first time. To be honest, I didn't like it. It looked really tired, the body had extensive cancer, and the interior was a disaster. I left that day with every intention of continuing my search for a Beetle, and letting the ratty old Type 3 fade from memory.
But something about it got to me. It was understated, but different. It looked somewhat like a Beetle, but a little off. And then Elisha decided to make a photochop of an idea he'd been floating around, and sent it to me while I was at work:
I was waivering. I was desperate for a slammed aircooled project, and the sight of those big Heritage wheels tucked up inside the fenders of that Fastback made my balls tingle unexpectedly. It was like seeing the nerdy, prudish girl from highschool wearing a string bikini for the first time.
The clincher came a week later, when I encountered the seller at a local gas station, and he informed me that the price was now $500, delivered. I didn't exactly jump on it, but very soon thereafter, money changed hands, a bill of sale was written, and that tired old VW found a new home in my driveway. Well, my grandparents' driveway, actually. I didn't ask them ahead of time. It's a wonder I'm alive.
At this point I was excited. Elisha ambitiously assured me that he could have the old fuel-injected flat four running in no time, and I was having visions of bombing around the yard in the rusty green deathtrap before winter.
To his credit, he did everything he could, but there's a point where 30 year old wiring just isn't going to cut it. Unfortunately, it was early December before we finally said "fuck it" and bought a set of dual carbs. And December in New Hampshire is not condusive to projects, when you lack a permanent garage and power tools. So we dropped the engine and took it to Elisha's shop, which is 50 miles northeast of my place, but has real walls and a woodstove and electricity.
And that brings us to now. I've been posting updates on the Oppo forum, so most of my future posts will probably be cut and pasted from there.
Can't wait to see where this goes, bring on Wolfsgart!
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