We found another great ride for our Rides Around series! This is a custom bug on a South Texas beach.
Someone enjoyed bugs so much, they wanted more. Instead of getting a second one, they decided to add more to the one they had.
They cut the body and frame, added some body and frame and… voila! A little paint and some elongated linkages, and this thing was ready for the sand. The genius behind this knew the stock bug engine was a little light, so they went ahead and through a V8 in her. That should do it…
The most amusing part of this long bug, is the fact that the owner stuck w/ this theme and has a longboard on top.
I applaud the creativity, apptitude, and drive this creation took from its creators.
Well done!
The Rig: Stretched VW Bug
The Location: Some South Texas beach
The Driver: a creative and ambitious Louisiana gentleman
The Special Circumstance: as a species, our creative well is limitless
The next ride we are featuring in our Rides Around series is a VW bus that was spotted at a Couer d’Alene, Idaho coffee house.
It is amazing to me what these vehicles continue to represent. They have been the quintessential mode of transportation, and sometimes lodging, for the folks living on the fringe, or at least dabbling in the lifestyle since their creation. Their engine coughs in time to the beatniks’ groove, and the lines of their form takes the admirer to a different place in history.
My father owned one of these monsters, and I vividly remember being impressed by the functional space it had when set up as a camper. We had spent years tent camping before he invested in this piece of luxury equipment. He would perpetually endeavor to catch as many fish as he could, on any given weekend, at any freshwater spot within driving distance. The van allowed maximum fishing time, due to its easy set up, and was much more comfortable than tent living.
When we were van camping, I always felt a sense of the fringe. We weren’t living on it, but it could be seen from our camp. Like the bug trip down the Baja, the VW drew attention and sparked many encounters w/ fellow travelers.
These rigs are fabulous and continue to fill our minds w/ inspiration, start interesting conversations, and remind us of fishing trips w/ Dad.
The Rig: VW Bus
The Location: Lake City, Coeur’D Alene, Idaho
The Driver: a speculatively caffeinated modern day beatnik
The Special Circumstance: tripping down memory lane
The second vehicle featured in our “Rides Around” series is a VW combie van with an interesting story and a fantastic paint job. I was at a little surf spot just southeast of Corpus Christi, Texas, when I spotted this creation pulled up on the sand.
Before paddling out, I introduced myself to the driver, a bit of a surfing icon, and the father of an exceptional woman who was passionate about making a change and actively doing so through her “social project “. It is called “Rekombinado” and can be read about here. It is an educational mission based out of the van, and takes place en route from Brazil to Northern California.
I spent a few minutes discussing the van, its travels, and function w/ the gentleman in the driver’s seat before paddling out.
During my session, I contemplated purpose and passion and priorities. I thought of how I choose to spend my time, and where I burn the most calories. It was a bit of a self check-up that I passed w/ some ideas for improvement.
As I was wading back in from my surf, and wrapping my leash up on the tail of my board, the combie was pulling off into the setting sun. It was undoubtedly headed out to continue its mission of education and love.
Funny how chance encounters can impact lives…
The Rig: VW Combie Van
The Location: Packery Channel, Texas
The Driver: a surfing icon named Joao
The Special Circumstances: an amazing encounter during a Tuesday after work surf session
We’ve received some great feedback on the “Baja Down the Baja” posts. Thank you all for your comments, and for coming back week after week for the next day’s adventures. We’re working on the final leg of it now, and have some great information and pictures to share with you this weekend.
The comments on the TSY page and the Facebook page have given us good insight. This community enjoys interesting vehicles, and particularly Volkswagens. This was also extremely evident during our trip, as people would honk and hoot and photograph the bug as they saw us roll by them on the highway. So we’ve decided to feature a different rig weekly, and would love some participation from the tribe.
I’ll go first, but if you see a cool ride, please snap a photo and tell us about it. If you have a special connection to your personal mode of transportation, we’re interested in that story too. Maybe it has a name. Maybe you remember your first car, your dad’s truck, the plane that dropped you in the Amazon, or that bike you always wanted and finally got. It’s great to see how folks get around, and hear the stories behind the ride.
The first rig we want to feature is the “love bug”. We found this flowery ride cruising the streets of Bucerias in Nayarit, Mexico. It appeared to be a daily driver for the man behind the wheel, who was not afraid of expressing himself.
The Rig: 1960 something Beattle
The Location: the main drag of Bucerias, Nayarit
The Driver: a sensitive stranger
The Special Circumstances: We were in a bug, when we spotted this bug, and appreciated it along with a guy driving behind it, who was also… in a bug. Random VW parade.
Note: This is a recap of Day Seven of our journey driving a ’68 bug from Sacramento, CA to Sayulita, Mexico. You can catch up on day six here.
Our search for coffee in La Paz took us to a shop just a block away from the hotel, with Shakespeare quotes on the wall. We enjoyed our flat white and mocha outside, next to the Sea of Cortez, and took a few moments to catch up on some work. Then it was time for the big event of the day: getting ferry tickets.
When we mapped out our trip, we knew we needed to catch a ferry ride from La Paz over to Mazatlan, and main land Mexico. We found some information online, but we weren’t 100% sure on the details. Did it only go to Mazatlan on weekdays? Was the Saturday trip just to Topolobampo? (Still need a pronouncer on that one but it’s fun to try!) How quickly would it fill up?
Finding the ferry dock wasn’t too tricky, and we asked the man directing traffic where we needed to go to get a ticket. He motioned to the building and parking lot. We parked, walked inside, and took a number for the ticket counter. The office was filled with what appeared to be local families, on their way to or back from vacation. I’m pretty sure we were the only Americans driving our ’68 bug across the country for kicks.
At our turn at the window, we learned we needed to be inspected and weighed first, before a ticket for the vehicle could be issued. We went back outside and got in line for that. The agent in our lane asked about our paperwork, which we had, and our VIN number, which we could not point out for him. I’m sure it’s on the car somewhere, but we had no idea where. After a few words of explanation, and absolutely no inspection, he waved us through to the scales.
The bug weighed in at around 1500 pounds. Back inside the building, we purchased two passenger and one vehicle ticket for the ferry the next day, and got instructions to show up two hours before departure.
Feeling confident about the next leg of the adventure, we headed off to celebrate with some waves at Todo Santos, which basically involved driving straight south to the Pacific side once again.
Lunch was on a nice patio in town, with two stray dogs snoozing nearby. Before we ate our meal, dessert arrived via a woman and her children, selling donuts for five pesos. We got two.
The key to burning off chocolate icing is paddling out, so we hit the surf shop in town to pick up a leash for one of our boards. The woman running the store was happy to sell us the leash, but cagey about the local breaks, clearly pretending not to know much about La Pastora, which we’d heard was amazing, and steering us more toward Cerritos. But we wouldn’t be detoured so easily, and double checked the online descriptions for La Pastora, which was rumored to be a good place to get barreled if you hit it on the right day. (To be clear, only one of us was looking for that sort of thing.)
The bug was a trooper and pressed on through all kinds of sand, brush and hills. Several times we spotted farms and fences, and surmised this might be La Pastora, only to walk down to a flat beach. Finally, around sunset, we saw an opening in the brush and turned off — there it was! The waves were once again no match for my skill level, so Edgar grabbed a few while I flowed on the beach.
Trust me, he’s out there.
When the sun went down, we headed to a hotel I had booked online, but when we got to the gate no one answered. There was a note and a giant bell to ring for the clerk. We gave it a couple pulls… nothing. Called the number…nothing. The neighbor came home and mentioned the desk kept “crazy hours” and that if we kept trying someone “might answer.” Rather than being stranded at dark in the street, we decided to press on into town and found the Maria Bonita. The young girls working the counter enjoyed some giggles at our Spanish, but they did have rooms available, and we had ourselves a place to rest. Dinner was sushi with a hot pepper Mexican twist…. an unexpected and tasty fushion!
Miles traveled on day seven: about 50 from La Paz to Todo Santos, plus a good amount of wandering in search of La Pastora.
On day eight: We watched the struggle to climb Everest while traveling through the night on the Sea of Cortez.
Note: This is a recap of Day Six of our journey driving a ’68 bug from Sacramento, CA to Sayulita, Mexico. You can catch up on day five here.
The hotel offered breakfast, so we made the most of the coffee, fruit, and yogurt — the last made by the waitress herself, the night before. The morning was overcast and a little chilly, so we decided to see about getting some laundry done before heading to the beach. While at the hotel, we met a surfer named Chad from Colorado. We had a good chat about surfing, traveling and a little politics. He asked if he could use Edgar’s phone to email his wife and let her know he’s alive. He said he was in the middle of a three-week surfing pilgrimage, and that she allows this once every year. But, she does worry if she doesn’t hear from him, and he was only carrying a flip phone. We shared our technology and got the message through, then told him we’d see him at the beach.
Scorpion Bay has a reputation for being one of the best and longest waves in the world. If conditions are right, you can get on one, take a right, and just keep going. The bug got a warm welcome at the break, where Chad and some other folks were already parked and suiting up. A guy who introduced himself as Bubba, also from Colorado, couldn’t get enough of our Green Machine, and took several photos for the boys back home. He was doing the trip in a VW bus, and explained he belonged to a VW fan club. “They’ll love this!” he said with a big grin on his face, snapping photos like he was with the paparazzi. He also showed us the sticker he had on his bus, which celebrated the journey. It read, “I Survived the North Road!” I wanted one for the bug, but didn’t get around to finding the right shop.
The super clean lines were calling, so we waved to the guys and headed down a little ways to the next of the four points. The rocks and the swell were intimidating for me, so I took a flow on the beach while Edgar climbed down and paddled out. It was breaking clean, at waist to shoulder high, and he reported back that it was super fun.
The sun came and I had plenty of time to salute it repeatedly and then work on hand stands on the beach. I can only hold for a second or two, but it feels like forever. I’m always hesitant to practice on hard surfaces since I know I’ll tumble, but the soft sand was perfect and the bug was also kind enough to offer a steady assist.
As we got ready to leave, we ran into a Japanese surfer with a board tucked under his arm. He was so excited he was running for the beach. “I am at the end of my surfing trip,” he told us. “I think I will go to America and work some more, save up more money, until I have enough to go again.” Living the life.
We needed to get moving to stay on schedule for the ferry, but we wanted to stare at the lines a while longer so we grabbed some fish tacos at a beachside restaurant. While we waited for the food, I pet a tiny dog, who didn’t mind the interruption to his afternoon nap.
Then it was time. We put the bug in gear and headed for La Paz, about six hours away. The road was all pavement, and smooth-sailing, quite the change from our bumpy ride in. Even though we were cruising along with one headlight and two fog lights, we were greeted with quick waves and the “move along” motion at the checkpoints. We found the La Perla hotel for sixty USD, a safe place to sleep right by the water. When we pulled into the turnout for valet parking, the attendant said it was okay to just keep it right there. The workers all regarded our rig with a little smile on their faces.
We walked to a nearby Italian restaurant and ate sandwiches for dinner and watched people cruise down the main strip. For dessert we had cheesecake, which we thought was going to be carrot cake. We could tell the waitress wasn’t sure when we ordered, and when she delivered it she was looking sheepish. “My English is not so good,” she said. But that was okay because the cheesecake was.
You Are Here
Miles traveled on day six: 242 smooth ones on the best road so far
On day seven: We conducted a dry run for the ferry, and annoyed a surf shop owner who tried to lure us away from “her” waves.
Note: This is a recap of Day Five of our journey driving a ’68 bug from Sacramento, CA to Sayulita, Mexico. You can catch up on day four here.
The first thing we did on Day Five, was get out the toolbox and give the bug some attention. Well, the very first thing we did was get coffee. I ordered from the hotel restaurant, and used my weak but growing Spanish to say “Cafe con leche. Dos. And….(I mimed walking fingers) vamose!” It’s rough, but people seem to appreciate the attempt. The waitress returned with two coffees to go and asked me for 35 pesos. I handed her 40, and she handed them back to me and shook her head. I looked down and noticed I had given her $40 Canadian. Travelers’ problems
We spent about an hour in the hotel parking lot checking oil, reattaching fenders and getting the LED bar to work. Then it was time to set our sights on Scorpion Bay. We drove for a while before deciding to stop for lunch at a roadside restaurant. Tacos, a torta and two coca lites really hit the spot. The bill was a whopping 131 pesos, or $7.
At a gas station stop, Edgar filled up the tank and I went inside the little store for snacks. I spotted a little bag of something called Choco Retas and decided we needed to try them. They tasted like tiny little peppermint patties. Addicting!
On the way out of the store I spotted a small dog, and of course stopped to pet it. “You like dogs, amiga?” the man sitting in front of the store asked. I admitted I did. “I have puppies for adoption. You want one?” I said no thank you and held firm, but I had to speed walk it out of there.
We’d spent some time researching the drive to Scorpion Bay, so we knew we would be a while on a dirt road, then take a left at a fish camp, and then we’d have the option to take the salt flats, or the north road. There were warnings included with both. Don’t stray from the path. Don’t go alone. Take a short wave radio…. and so forth.
Super salty.
We decided to go alone and take candy and a good attitude. The north road needed a grader and it needed one badly. It was washboard the whole way. We tried to weave to a “better” part of the road, but better never really came. A few times we would run into really soft sand, and we’d have to get a run at it to stay unstuck. Other times we had to slowly rock crawl and rattle our way across stretches with no sand at all. It was pretty exciting and we always made it up and out.
A few hours in we spotted a van coming the other direction, and the driver slowed to talk to us. It was a couple from California and they were coming back from Scorpion Bay. The driver offered us directions that included go straight, pass a goat farm, keep going, drive through the creek bed…. “How much farther is it?” we asked. “Oh at least two more hours,” came the reply. We waved our thanks and put the bug in gear.
All told, we were about seven hours on the north road. We passed lots of cows, and a group of wild horses. Of course I wanted to get close, but they were skittish and had foals with them, so they stuck around long enough for a couple long-distance clicks and then took off. The scenery changed from the salt pools to sand to brush and then tall cacti. We got a good long look at all of it, since the road conditions only allowed us to go about ten miles per hour. (by ear)
One of the wild, wild horses.
Finally, we saw lights, and Scorpion Bay was just a right turn away. The town is lovely… small, and developed just enough to have a few places to stay and one selling gasolina. The Scorpion Bay Hotel still had rooms and the upstairs restaurant was open. One note about the temperature – because Mexico is typically hot, the places we stayed had air conditioning but not heat. If you travel during cooler weather, you might want to bring along an extra blanket.
After dinner, we took a walk and craned our necks to see a sky lit up with stars.
Miles traveled on Day Five: 194, including a decent section of the Baja 500
Coming up on Day Six: Scorpion Bay delivers on its dependable reputation, and we meet a group of VW enthusiasts with an enormous amount of stoke. Stay tuned (bro).
Note: This is day two of our adventures driving a ’68 bug from Sacramento, California to Sayulita, Mexico. If you missed day one, you can read that recap here.
We woke up to find a thief had been at the bug and gone again, and the only thing he or she wanted was the “travelsurfyoga.com” tape on our window. Sometimes even a cheap marketing ploy gets recognized for its value. With a shake of our heads we piled back into the bug and set our sights on Sunset Cliffs, the birthplace of the fish surfboard.
Sunset Cliffs is beautiful. Pictures don’t do it justice, but I’ll give it my best attempt. Something about the clear blue water juxtaposed with the rocks and sky… I couldn’t stop saying how lovely it all was.
As we drove through town, we spotted two gentlemen and a golden retriever lounging outside a surf shop. The guys smiled at our rig, and we swung into a parking spot. Mark and his friend shook our hands and we checked out their boards for sale. They told us about the nearby surf spot, not working that day unfortunately, and we chatted about a couple of places we planned to see on our way down the coast. Mark told us about Richard, a local surfer and VW enthusiast, who was selling coffee out of a bus down by the water. “It’s a blue VW bus, and he’s a surfer guy with long blonde hair. Stop by and see him,” they encouraged us several times. We promised we would and took our leave.
Sure enough, we stumbled upon Richard and his buses down by the shore. He gave us a nod and his permission to park the bug next to his green VW bus for sale. (It’s priced at 30k, in case you have the interest and a little pocket change.) We ordered coffees and stretched our legs, and after a little chat decided to get back on the road.
Except, the bug wasn’t ready to move. We pressed the button, and it wouldn’t start. Hmmm. Tried again. Richard had ideas and so did his buddy, and we all got out to talk them through. The buddy grabbed a can of starting fluid and gave it a go. Still nothing. After a little more tinkering, we discovered a loose wire in the ignition system. Richard’s friend grabbed a crimping tool and viola! It worked. While it was running, we threw out one more question. The first day the bug stayed in gear just fine, but on day two it was wanting to jump out of fourth, especially when pulling uphill. Richard said it sounded like we needed to check the transmission fluid, and we drove off with that mission in mind, and directions to the nearest Auto Zone.
We pulled into a side lot to add the fluid, check the oil and tighten whatever we could access and turn, even just a smidge. When we went to fill the bug with transmission fluid, the fill port was only hand tight, so the fluid suggestion turned out to be a good one. It didn’t cure the popping out of gear part, but the bug drank a bottle of the stuff and we certainly wouldn’t want to run it dry.
Back on the road, we decided we should adjust our original plan, and cross the border the next morning. Our mechanic stop was well worth it, but it did cost us some daylight, and night time is not the best time to get into Mexico and get paperwork sorted. We pinpointed the best place to stay just this side of the border, in a town called Chula Vista. The El Primo Hotel had a confident name and a friendly manager/owner, who professed to be 79 years old “plus tax”.
I didn’t catch his name, but he was willing to share about his journey from the Philippines to the states when he was just 19 years old. He joined the navy right away, and volunteered for submarine duty. He told us he could see the sides of the hallways down below, begin to curve under the pressure at 3200 feet. We could have swapped stories with him all evening, but we were hungry and not the only guests, so we said good night and walked down the street to an Italian restaurant, with 200 more miles under our belts.
On Day Three we required the services of Smack it with a Hammer Mechanics, and found out beach hotels that appear abandoned sometimes offer the best accommodations. Stay tuned…
To really tell this story, I must first tell you how the Green Meanie came to be. Edgar and I had been to Sayulita quite a few times, and each time paid a pretty steep amount to rent a car. You pay for the rental, but also for the Mexican insurance (check out VdM), since your insurance in the states is not accepted there. This addition doubles the cost of the rental. We talked about how it would be nice to have an older car there just to run around to restaurants, surf breaks and the airport… maybe something like a VW bug.
The idea sounded good, and it quickly moved from mere conversation to an internet search, and to a specific seller who appeared to have just the thing posted on Craig’s List. It was green, mean, a little beat up and a lot loud. It was a baja bug. Our new friend had been working on it with his grandfather, and had even taken a trip to Mexico in it already. It fit our needs and the price was right, so we made the deal. The seller even towed it to my house, since my stick shift driving now is weak at best, and at that time, was non-existent.
I kept the bug at my place for a while, and taught myself to drive it on weekends. I practiced taking it to the gas station, waving folks around me as I stalled at lights. Edgar came to visit and we added gas and water cans, a high-lift jack, shovel, pick ax and all-terrain tires. We ordered a few spare parts, and then a couple more, and stocked up on zip ties and black tape. A stall mat made for a handy back seat cover, and I got my first drilling experience putting in some second-hand head rests. We threw in some floor mats, ammo boxes for the glove compartments, and made sure we had a gallon of oil at the ready.
The Green Meanie was ready to go home.
Day One:
We left Sacramento with a back seat filled with tools and backpacks, and a roof rack topped off with surf boards. I thought people might give us a second glance, but we were surprised to see how much people were really digging it. We saw lots of thumbs up and plenty of cell phones out for photos as we rumbled down the highway.
Our first stop was Santa Cruz and the Ripcurl store. Edgar wanted to pick up a wet suit for the cold pacific water, and I found a shorty that would be perfect a little farther south. Our rig was drawing attention in the parking lot, so we figured we’d let people know where they could read more about our travels, and borrowed a sharpie from the shop. We wrote our web address on masking tape and slapped it to the back windows on both sides. Cheap, but effective. (We actually have TSY stickers, but I neglected to bring them along, so the tape had to do.)
Marketing at its finest
We stopped every couple of hours for gas and to check the oil. The gas gauge was sort of a guide, but not an exact one. If it got to half, that was more like empty. Did I mention we had a big gas can on the side? We were prepared for long stretches without a gas station, and for pretty much daily guesses at how much we had left in the tank. For a trip like this, the proper mindset is key. Even though we had a mechanic go through it before we hit the road, (thanks FIDS of West Sac!) we understood there might be challenges, and we were ready to roll with them.
The first evening was a chilly one, and we threw on a few extra layers as we cruised into Ventura. We knocked out about 400 miles for our first day, and we were pretty pleased. We had hoped to find a restaurant open, but Saturday night was surprisingly sleepy, and we ended up ordering pizza in.
Day two began with a shocking theft, and moved on to a strange encounter with a surfer who sold coffee out of a VW bus. Stay tuned….
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