Chapter 6

In another life, the bailiff might have played Frankenstein, although he was more suited to the part of Lurch ... tall thin and square jawed. In a voice that would be excellent in a reverbchamber, he said, "Now."

Andie and Bill jumped in the side door of the Veedub ... thirty seconds later the Van was rocking. Three hours and the Van was still rocking ... if anything it was rocking harder than when they jumped inside. The continual bounce overheated the oil in the KYB shocks, first the right rear blew out and minutes later the left shock broke.

It is sad but true ... a VW van wasn't designed for continuous vibration. Nothing is very far from anything in Germany. It was expected that a Van would deliver meats and milk from the city center to homes near the outskirts. People who lived in close walked to the market ... some walked every day. Even delivery in Berlin was less than 20 miles. Drive out ... shut it off ... make your delivery, gossip, start it up, make the next delivery.

Start ... stop ... Start ... stop ... Start ... stop ... it was the Americans who caused the problems. After you leave the bright lights ... nothing is close in America. In Hitler's Germany, the next town was five miles away ... in America it was 20. Cylinders overheated and pistons broke. The air cooler didn't move enough air ... the oil cooler was too small. The leaf torsion bars cracked or jumped their cogs.

But the VW was cheap ... and easy to fix if you had a smidgeon of mechanical ability. Twenty Million sold (Sounds like McDonalds). If you didn't know one end of a thingamajig from the other, John Muir and his spiral notebook repair manual would keep your Bug alive and running well past it's suggested service life.

It was like the VW tires ... thirty thousand miles and replace them. At thirty thousand miles in Germany it was time to replace them ... at thirty thousand miles in the US ... they still looked brand new. Generator belts also ran the cooling fan. In their life cycle in Germany they looked worn out at the end of it. In America ... they still looked brand new. At thirty five thousand miles VW tires suffered catastrophic failures ... and still had tread left. Belts broke in the middle of nowhere because they still looked new.

Andrea had found this particular van being used as a chicken coop. She was 'exploring' ... another word for lost ... when she pulled into a country farm with an old couple swinging on their porch swing. It was coming on dark and she knew she was lost.

Andie leaned out the window, "I'm lost." She sounded pitiful.

"Michigan," said the man ... with a German accent.

"I know that..." Andie chuckled.

"Then you ain't lost," suggested the wife.

"It's just that I don't know what part of Michigan I'm lost in," bad written grammar but good speech.

"Come up to the house ... we'll draw you a map."

So Andie stepped out of her exploring car and stepped up on the porch. "Thank you."

"You look tired, child," the wife knew tired ... she'd been tired most of her life. Farming takes a lot out of a woman.

"Drink of water?" asked the man, getting up from the swing ... it rocked a little.

Chapter 7 »