Texas to California and back in a formerly derelict 1966 VW Beetle

[slowlane]

Hello everyone and welcome to my trip report. I am Tim and what will follow is the story of a 5000 mile journey in a '66 VW that I rebuilt. This took place back in July of 2013 so it is not totally current but I thought readers of this forum might enjoy it anyway.

First I guess I should give some background on my VW. I bought the car in June of 2010 when it was in a truely sorry state. It had sat in a small field in Fort Worth, Texas since 1990 after being totally driven into the ground. It was rusty, battered, mice had eaten the wiring as well as made a small civilization in the car's interior, and wasps had inhabitted nearly all the remaining spaces. Mechanically it was ruined. The engine had a hole in the number 3 exhaust valve which likely was the last straw for the whoever drove the car last before leaving it to rot. The only thing that still functioned was the parking brake on one wheel. It was a rough car to begin with, but after seeing it in such a condition, I somehow felt sorry for the little car and vowed to return it to the road. $700 later and I was the proud owner of a delapidated '66 Beetle.

After about one and a half years of cutting, grinding, welding, painting, and rebuilding, the VW was once again roadworthy. It was a very good feeling to have taken something useless, save for rodent colonizing, and make it functional again. I drove it daily for about a year and all was well. It proved to be so reliable that I decided that I wanted to take a road trip with it.

I would to drive out to the Bay Area of California to see a friend from college, taking as little interstate as possible, not just because the car's little 40hp 1200 can't keep up, but also because the back roads are so much more interesting and fun to me. I had three weeks off of work so I could take my time and enjoy the trip. A couple of days before leaving, I changed the VW's oil, adjusted the valves, and checked the timing. I remember the night before I departed, some strong storms came through which left the following morning unseasonably cool (good thing for early July in TX with no A/C). I woke up early to avoid the Dallas rush-hour and after filling the VW's gas tank, I set off for California.

Here are some photos of the VW after getting it home.

After the rebuild

Here is a small sample of what will follow.

Oklahoma

Kansas

Colorado

Utah

Nevada

California along the Pacific Coast Highway.

 

[Quest4ADV]

You sir are my new idol now

Great job and thanks for sharing this epic journey!

 

[slowlane]

You sir are my new idol now

Great job and thanks for sharing this epic journey!

Thanks. I am just getting started. That trip was easily one of the best experiences of my life.

 

[slowlane]

The first morning was cool with temperatures only in the low 70's and low humidity, which is rare for Dallas in July. I

left early and soon broke my own rule of avoiding interstates by getting onto I-35 and heading north. I knew plenty of

other more scenic back roads north but I was itching to just get away from the city and this is the fastest way (as long

as you get out before rush hour). Once I passed Sanger, TX, I exited onto Farm Road 455. It wouldn't be until a section

in Utah that I would see the interstate again. I passed through the small towns of Slidell, Forestburg, and St Jo. Soon

enough I crossed the Red River, entering Oklahoma on OK-89. For the first time in over 20 years, my VW had left Texas.

I took a left onto OK-32 and headed west. Soon after however, I felt something on my left calf. I looked down and there

was a wasp crawling along my leg. I quick knocked it away, pulled off the road and jumped out of the car. That wasp flew

out but there was yet another wandering around on the back window, I rolled up my road atlas and smooshed it on the

glass. A little more than 2 hours on the road and I was already being attacked. Fortunately there were no other wasp or

bee encounters for the remainder of the trip. The sun was shining and the VW buzzed merrily along, leaving Texas behind

at 55 mph, and all was right with the world. I stopped in a small Oklahoma town to get gas. Most gas stations that I

stopped at in rural Oklahoma only sold 85 octane. Fortunately, the VW's little 1200 didn't mind the lower octane one bit.

Eventually I got onto US-183, heading north toward Kansas. This area was ranch country for sure. Cattle, grass and

scrubby mesquite could be seen all around. Cottonwood trees lined the little creeks and streams, giving away their

location at a distance. As I meandered north, the grazing lands gradually gave way to the ubiquitous wheat, corn, and soy

that covers so much of the country's mid section.

Call me crazy, but I actually love the Great Plains. The feeling of insignificance that sweeps over you when you can look

to the horizon 360 degrees and not see a single man made object, save for the road, maybe a fence and your vehicle, is

unbelievably powerful. Like most people, I have on hopped on I-70, set the cruise control to a touch over 80 and left

this part of the country in the rear view mirror without a second thought. Eventually, college brought me to a small

central Kansas town. While there, I bought an old Honda C-70 Passport scooter on a whim and would regularly ride town on

any random dirt road and explore the sorrounding area. Through these little adventures, I came to really enjoy the ease

of escape into "nothingness".

Even in that small area there was a lot to see if you opened your eyes. I visited numerous abandoned farmsteads, abandoned

railroads, a castle built on a hill at the place where supposedly artifacts from Coronado's expedition had been found, a

buffalo preserve, a great fishing pond, bluffs overlooking a lake, a motorcycle museum, caves, an arial bombing range and

so on. One year there was a field that was planted with sunflowers. The field rose gradually from the road and then

decended again so all I could see was sunflowers to the horizon, where the endless yellow and black met a deep blue

cloudless sky. On a windy day, which is almost a given, I loved head west of town to watch the grasses blow and shimmer

in waves as the wind blew across it. I give you a challenge the next time you are travelling though the middle of the

country, take a little time, even just an hour or so, and get off the interstate and onto some random back road. You

might be surprised with what you can find if you look.

Getting back on track again, in Kansas I turned onto US-160 west. The sun was getting low on the horizon as I neared the

town of Ulysses. This is a special time on the plains, for while the sun is touching the horizon, highlights and shadows

form and the subtle undulations of this "flat" land are illuminated briefly and then vanish as the sun sinks from view.

Upon reaching Ulysses my first day on the road came to a close.

Looking west from Coronado Heights, Kansas

The castle at Coronado Heights. This was built by the WPA in I believe 1936.

This abandoned rural school in Oklahoma was littered with broken vehicles, washing machines, refrigerators, etc. The "Victory" name was sadly ironic given the state of things.

This small shed in western Kansas looked like it would fall with a light shove.

A typical central Kansas scene

This old Ford ('48-'51 maybe) grain truck looked remarkably good aside from the barn collapsing upon it. The bed was holding up the roof. It was at the same abandoned western Kansas farm as the leaning shed.

Rusty Kansas stuff

An old western KS school?

Some of the Kansas landscape almost looked like abstract art if you squinted your eyes.

This is probably the most picturesque abandoned farmhouse I have come across. It is on Highway 4 west of Lindsborg, KS.

 

[PetitFrereArmada]

Man, you are just unique.

More... more... more... Don't keep me hanging...

 

[mib1392]

Truely amazing. This is the real, original Expo spirit.
I wish I can grow my respect and feeling to old machines to your level one day (I'm still proud I never owned a car from this millenium).

Keep up the pictures and stories!

 

[shortbus4x4]

Awesome. More please.

 

[slowlane]

I am glad you all are enjoying it. I am working on the next installment right now actually.

mib1392


Truely amazing. This is the real, original Expo spirit.
I wish I can grow my respect and feeling to old machines to your level one day (I'm still proud I never owned a car from this millenium).

Keep up the pictures and stories!

I have never owned a car from this millennium either. Actually my "new" vehicle right now is a 1985 Chevrolet truck. Thinking back, I have only owned 3 cars that were made after I was born, but then again I am only 30. Old cars are just so much more fun to me. They seem to have developed their own personality over the years. I used to have a 1966 Oldsmobile 98 that had sat in a garage for several years before I bought it, and I swear was upset that I dragged it out of a comfortable retirement to force it out onto the road again. It was plagued with breakdowns which drove me crazy at times, but the experience taught me a lot about fixing and dealing with old cars as daily drivers. The VW on the other hand has seemed glad to have been resurrected from that lonesome field, as it has been remarkably reliable for a nearly 50 year old machine.

 

[mib1392]

The VW on the other hand has seemed glad to have been resurrected from that lonesome field, as it has been remarkably reliable for a nearly 50 year old machine.

It's a VW - they've been everywhere.
Keep on rolling, TX to CA is only the beginning!

in German, but pictures tell it, too.
in French - same thing. We met them last year in Istanbul when we were going in a 35y younger VW from Germany to India :smiley_drive: They went around that whole blue ball in the other direction.

 

[mtnbike28]

Great story and trip!

 

[slowlane]

The next morning brought another cloudless sky over western Kansas as the VW and I set off to continue on our journey. I

headed straight north on KS-27 to the town of Syracuse, where I turned left onto US-50. US-50 would take me through the

majority of Colorado. The fields of wheat, corn, milo, and soybeans slowly gave way to sage brush, grasses, a scattering

of scrubby trees, and dust while Kansas turned into Colorado.
Early into Colorado, as I downshifted from fourth to third, the generator light suddenly illuminated. I quickly shut off

the engine and coasted to the side of the road. A glowing generator light is not to be taken lightly in an aircooled VW

as it could easily signal a thrown generator belt. Hooked to the back of that generator is the cooling fan, without which

a VW engine would melt down in short order at 55mph. If the generator doesn't spin, the fan doesn't spin, and bye-bye

engine. I opened the hood. The belt was still there and was tight. All the wiring connections were good. Hmmm? I

tried tapping on the voltage regulator, thinking that it might be sticking. I started the car up, but the light was still

on. checked the generator brushes and they looked clean and the connections were good. I remembered that the genereator

had to be polarized when new or it wouldn't charge so I figured I might as well try the repolarizing procedure as a long

shot. When you polarize a generator you basically jump the wires so you are reversing its role and instead of spinning to

charge the battery, the battery's charge spins it, effectively turning it into an electric motor. If I remember

correctly, this re-energizes the residual magnetism in the generator, allows it to charge again. I started the engine and

the light went out! I don't know how a downshift could make a generator lose polarity or if this was some strange

coincidence, but it was working and gave no further trouble for the remainder of the trip.
Once I cross into Colorado I can never help but squinting at the horizon waiting to see the first glimpse of the

mountains. I have lived the majority of my life in fairly flat lands so the mountains have a special mystique for me.

Eventually a faint white cloud bank began to appear just where the dusty brown land met the bright blue of the mid-day

sky. That line of clouds slowly got higher and higher in the sky as I motored through La Junta, Rocky Ford, Manzanola, and

Fowler on my way toward Pueblo, after which the Great Plains faded dramatically and surprisingly quickly into foothills.

Eventually a lower, darker, "cloud bank" began to emerge beneath the white clouds, except that these dark clouds were actually

the Rocky Mountains.
US-50 roughly parallels the Arkansas River through western Kansas and eastern Colorado, and when I started to climb into the

mountains, 50 runs right along side it. For the first time on the trip the horizon shrank down while the VW and I snaked

our way up through this narrow river valley. After much climbing and twisting the road straightens out a bit as the

valley opens up. Outside of Salida, CO, the road continued along the Arkansas river valley and some truely huge, bald

mountain peaks fill the view out the VW's passenger window. Little did I know that soon the road would veer straight

toward those peaks. The little car and I would soon be heading up and over them.
As the road began to climb, I pushed down on the accelerator. In short order my foot had the pedal pinned to the floor.

Up and up we climbed, the little 40hp engine giving all it could to keep forward momentum. I could feel the thin high-

altitude air choking the 1200cc's and no amount of throttle could keep the car from slowing. I downshifted to third and

held the pedal to the floor and was able to maintain a steady 40mph. Parts of the road were right along the edge of

cliffs which provided truely amazing views of the mountain ridges folding themselves into the distance. The Vw strained

along as I pulled over frequently to let more powerful cars pass. The labored sound from the passing car's engines as

they whizzed by gave away that they too were working hard in the thin mountain air. It seemed that the climb would never

end as the car continued to lose speed. Finally, full throttle, the VW crested Monarch Pass at 25 mph. I pulled off into

the parking lot of the store at the top to of the pass to give the car a well deserved rest. I wandered around at the to

for a while, and snapped a picture of the VW in front of the brown and yellow elevation sign which proclaimed an altitude

of 11,312 feet above sea level. I was proud of the little car. Less than two years ago it couldn't move under it's own

power and now it had crossed the Continental Divide.
For the rest of the day US-50 sank into hot sage brush covered valleys and rose into pine laden mountain passes, each one

lower than the last. I came to Grand Junction where I decided I would end for the day. However, a wrong turn led me

straight onto I-70 at rush hour. Semis and jacked-up pickups bearing down upon me filled the rearview mirror while I kept

the throttle down in a futile attempt to keep up with the madness. The driver of a diesel Dodge truck gunned his engine

as he flew past, enveloping the VW in a disapproving cloud of black, sooty, smoke. After a couple of white-white knuckled

miles a green exit sign showed mercifully in the distance and I escaped from the terror and the day drew to a close.

The foothills of the Rockies west of Pueblo, CO

Entering the foothills

A turn-out on the way up Monarch Pass

Made it to the top!

A Colorado pasture
[

US-50 bridge over Blue Mesa Reservoir

Blue Mesa Reservoir

Blue Mesa Reservoir again

The other side of the dam for Blue Mesa Res. Down there somewhere is the Gunnison River.

 

[4x4x4doors]

Nice. Looking forward to more.

Side note: I have a bee/wasp allergy and my doc recommends I keep a bottle of Windex (with ammonia) in the car in case I need to dispatch one while driving. It will disable one without the mess of wasp spray. (I also keep an epi pen in case I get stung though).

 

[XJLI]

awesome trip report so far, looking forward to the rest. A coworker and I were talking about old air-cooled VWs yesterday, he wants to pick up a 1600. I wouldn't mind one as well, they are beautiful in their simplicity.

 

[slowlane]

Nice. Looking forward to more.

Side note: I have a bee/wasp allergy and my doc recommends I keep a bottle of Windex (with ammonia) in the car in case I need to dispatch one while driving. It will disable one without the mess of wasp spray. (I also keep an epi pen in case I get stung though).

That's kind of a bummer as far as allergies go. I have been stung a few times including once in the head when a bee flew into my helmet while I was riding a motorcycle. Fortunately I am not allergic though.

awesome trip report so far, looking forward to the rest. A coworker and I were talking about old air-cooled VWs yesterday, he wants to pick up a 1600. I wouldn't mind one as well, they are beautiful in their simplicity.

I am glad you are enjoying it. Aircooled VWs are enjoyable little cars assuming you are somewhat mechanically inclined or have someone who can help you learn. They require more maintenance more a lot more frequently than newer cars (oil change every 1500 miles, valve adjustments/timing check every 3000, and so on). Non of this takes very long though and is straightforward. No matter how well you maintain it, breakdowns will happen. I always carry a spare distributor cap, rotor, points, condenser spark plugs, and coil with me along with a small bag of the necessary tools to replace all of those things. Fortunately on this trip the car performed very well and the only real problem was when I forgot to re-clip the distributor cap after checking the timing in Utah. The cap bounced loose on a bump and chipped a chunk off the rotor. I was able to repair it and it lasted the remainder of the trip.

 

[slowlane]

On the morning of day three I left Grand Junction for Utah on the Old Hwy 50 that runs to the north of the current highway. The Colorado protion of the old road was in good shape but after crossing the Utah state line, that would change. An ominous "Road Not Maintained Travel at Your Own Risk" sign just on the other side of the border couldn't have been more accurate. The pavement soon turned to a crumbling, cracked-up mess. I was lucky if I could travel at 35 mph over the decaying roadway. The sections that had totally degraded back to dirt were actually better driving than the dying pavement. It was a true adventure now and I was loving it.
The VW rattled and banged along the tattered remains of the road that once proudly ferried the majority of the traffic through this Utah desert. Some sections still had remnants of faded yellow divider line but I used the entire width of the road, crossing from one side to the other in an attempt to avoid the deep ruts. A couple of times I moved entirely off the road and drove in the dirt along side it. There were several instances where I misjudged the severity of a rut and the impact sent a terrible, shuddering jolt through the poor little car. I was amazed to make it through of this abandoned stretch of road without a flat tire.
Old Hwy 50 passed through the dusty towns of Cisco and Thompson. These two towns, decades bypassed by I-70, were slowly fading from existance, especially Cisco. In Cisco, there was the usual smattering of windowless buildings and junk cars/appliances strewn about the few faded dirt streets. The remains of a muralled gas station/convenience store stood just off the road. The peeling mural of tree lined mountains and streams that graced its eroding walls stood in stark contrast to the tannish grey desert from which it rose. Old cans, bottles, and car parts littered the collapsing two-bay garage at the rear of the building. Now a ghost of its former self, this crumbled outpost was surely a welcome sight for some long-ago travelers, stopping for gas and maybe a cold drink before heading back into the parched landscape beyond.
Thompson seemed to have faired maybe slightly better than Cisco. There were still a few residences that appeared occupied at the eastern edge of the town. In Thompson I detoured into Sego Canyon to see the petroglyphs and the old Sego ghost town. The petroglyphs are in two main locations fairly high up on the canyon walls. It is hard to imagine people living so long ago in such a harsh climate. Evidently they were getting along pretty well since they had the time to create this precariously placed artwork. In the town of Sego only the skeletons of a few buildings and a small graveyard remained. There were a couple of old, small wooden railroad bridges that followed an eroding grade into the town. Evidently they were exporting something from this desolate canyon but as to what, I am not sure. Once back on the road, I banged and clattered my way into Green River.
At Green River the old road disappeared, swallowed up by I-70. I followed 70 for while before I took an exit that read "No Services" which lead me onto a gravel road. This road wound around, up, and down while roughly paralleling the path of I-70. The road went through two old rail tunnels blasted through the mountain sides. The gravel road criss-crossed under the interstate several times through little tunnels. Eventually this road wound down into Salina where US-50 finally breaks free of I-70. I follwed US-50 north to Scipio and turned off onto a dirt road just before 50's junction with I-15. This road ran along side I-15 until conveniently leading right back onto US-50 where they separated. I continued on 50 toward Delta, Utah. At this point I think it was like 4:00 in the afternoon and getting realy hot. The back of my shirt was damp from the red vinyl seat where I sweated away the miles between me and Delta. In Delta, a thermometer read 104 degrees. I stopped and looked at the map. 90 more miles through a blank spot on the map to the end of Utah and then another 60 or so miles of blank space before Ely, Nevada. I decided to call it a day in Delta, hoping for a cool morning to cross the stretch of desert that lay beyond.
Here is a start to the Utah pictures. I loved the portion of the trip through Utah and stopped to photograph a lot so it will take a couple of posts to get them all in.

The Utah State Line on Old US-50. This neat pillar used to welcome travelers back when this was the main route through Utah. The 40mph sign was pretty optimistic for the condition of much of this stretch of road.

A good section of Old US-50.

Much of the road had deteriorated to this suspension-pulverizing state. The sections that had totally reverted to dirt were far better than this dying blacktop.

The little VW heading off into the Utah desert.

The remains of an old muralled gas station in Cisco, UT. I love the optimism of the landscape in the muraling, with mountains and tree-lined streams in stark contrast to the desert where the building was located.

Peeling paint from the walls of the station.

A lone tree stands out along this barren stretch of Old Hwy 50. One has to wonder how it grew there.

Thompson, UT

Sego Canyon. The fence on the left surrounds the graveyard for the long abandoned town of Sego.

One set of petroglyphs in the canyon.

The second concentration of glyphs.

The road out of Sego Canyon