Y’all. I’m just now realizing that I yammer on about cars, but have never actually proven that I own anything to back it up. So, an introduction?
The first, and the best. My 1971 Super Beetle. It was the very first Beetle I looked at when I was in the market, and it has been a perfect car. I’ve never looked at another Beetle since.
The engine has been pulled, poked at, disassembled, and then put back in by yours truly. When I first bought this car, my dad was adamant that I could do all the work myself, and he’s held me to that for the last five years. This car gifted me a slow-building foundation of patience and skill that I wouldn’t trade for the world.
Ownership status: 2019 — present
Beetle #2 — A 1972 Standard. Didn’t I just say that I’d never buy another Beetle?
This one was bought from a friend for about the price of a Happy Meal. She didn’t run, she had no brakes, and she was probably losing her clutch as well.
I once stalled her on a hill while Chic’s Le Freak was blasting from a speaker that had no volume buttons. She failed to start for about a solid minute, and after my pleading and begging, apparently got enough gas in the chamber to splutter embarrassingly up the hill.
It was the height of COVID, and I was bored out of my mind. The brakes took a few days, the engine needed a new fuel filter and carb float, and then that was it. She was back on the road. I sold her away, and I still look for her occasionally on Marketplace.
Other than the paint, she was completely stock, which made her good for stealing parts off of. I’m pretty sure she was sold without sidemarkers.
Ownership status: Spring of 2020 — summer of 2020.
My dad’s 1976 Transporter. When I got my Beetle, my grandad and dad started going on about “the good old days”, when they’d pile into one of my grandad’s buses, and go camping in the South of France.
So, enter VW Bus. She’s a Transporter at heart, but the previous owner stuck a Westfalia interior in there, and now we’ve got a camper! We bought her non-running, had a crisis about buying a lawn ornament, and then realized that the problem was merely a main vacuum line. She’s run fine ever since.
She’s got about 10 more horsepower than the other Volkswagens (62hp), which makes her particularly good in freeways and long-distance travel. She’s the most reliable of the fleet, and has made it down to the California border (from Northern WA) and back without a blip. She’s never broken down. Not yet.
Ownership status: Spring of 2021 — present
One of these is not like the other: 1990 Miata.
The Beetle -> Miata pipeline is real. I know of at least three people (myself included) that’ve pulled this trick. She’s got 300,000 miles on the clock and counting. This car was meant to be a cheap summer commuter, maybe do a little track racing, and be gone by the end of the summer. Unfortunately, I fell in love. This car has had more money poured into it than any of the other vehicles, despite her terrible paint and high mileage, no OBD system, and about fifty other problems. But I love her.
This is the car that has forced me to reckon with fuel injection, and the one that has taught me the most about “racing” (quotation marks because I was the slowest 1.6 NA at the last Auto-X).
I had to learn about rollbars, hardtops, tires and wheels, coilovers, radiators, rolled and pulled fenders, and how to handle a car with more than 60hp. All my other cars are completely stock in the engine department, so the Miata is where I started experimenting. Racing intake, performance radiator, the usual suspects. Rumor (fact) has it that I tried to ship a cheap hardtop from my university to my house. It did not work. I had to tuck my tail and go to Canada for a hardtop that’s genuinely worth more than the car. I’ve become a snob, I think.
This car has only failed me once, about two days into ownership. The clutch master went out, and I panicked, thinking I’d bought a lemon. I had not. However, she’s had to save me only one time, but it was quite possibly the greatest save known to Miatakind. A clutch disc spring exploded while I was out and about, rendering shifting to become harder and harder, and then impossible. She drove me 84 miles home in the middle of a bitter winter rainstorm at 10pm. She only refused to go into gear once on my driveway. So, I owed it to the car to fix the transmission, I guess. I cashed a lot of luck that day.
I replaced the clutch disc, plate, pilot bearing, throwout bearing, and hydraulic system in February 2025, and she drives now! It was my very first transmission pull and put-back, and certainly not the most fun I’ve ever had. But I did it, and it works (so far).
Ownership status: Fall of 2022 — Summer of 2025
"You need to get a reliable car," my dad said. "The Miata is getting tired, and you need a car that will take you to work without issues."
I listened to him for about a week, did extensive research on early Toyota trucks, and then bought a car two years older than the Miata. Meet the 1988 Porsche 944. Full of quirky German engineering (timing belt + old = engine explosion), this is the most expensive thing I've ever bought in my life. That being said, it costs much less than any car built after 2010, so I was between a rock and a hard place.
I absolutely adore it. It has electronic everything (seats, windows, sunroof), so in my eyes, this thing is the height of luxury. It has maroon interior, teeny tiny back seats, and an engine that has fifty more horsepower than the Miata, and that's something I haven't really tested yet. There's yet to be work done, but this is a very new car to me, so I'm sure it'll start to bring up issues any day now. But I don't care. I love it.
Ownership status: Summer of 2025 -- present
Honorable mention: My dad’s 1978 MGB. This is the car that taught me how to drive stick! My dad bought it when my family moved from California, and he was probably longing for a little bit of his British roots. The car was his daily for its entire ownership, and drove in commuting traffic every day for years with a cracked cylinder head. My dad pulled the engine on it multiple times, probably just for fun.
Just kidding. The clutch blew up twice. The soft top would leak, and moss grew on the carpets. My dad used to tote a gallon bottle into work to fill with water because the car would lose coolant throughout the workday. He would place a small bowl to collect oil because the company had just finished the underground parking, and he didn’t want to leak oil onto the new concrete. It had three windshield wipers! What a brilliant car! I say that with zero sarcasm. What a silly, beautiful, funny car.
Ownership status: 2006 — summer of 2021
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I learned everything from my dad, who used to rally his Mini Cooper for pinks back in the 80’s. He learned everything from his father —my grandfather— who is exactly who you’d think of when you hear “Mancunian backyard mechanic”. He smoked like a house on fire, refused to spend more than 2k on any car ever, and was quite possibly the greatest, kindest man who ever lived. He never had a car for longer than 6 months, but always had a soft spot for aircooled Volkswagens.
If you’re genuinely curious about my mechanical misadventures, I go by @lowbutstillslow on Instagram, where I actually put money where my mouth is. It’s subpar work, but it is work.
When I'm not fixing the tin cans on wheels, I love to watch F1 and Le Mans, and I'm getting into NASCAR and Indycar. I'm astounded by the abilities of drivers and mechanics that're far more talented than I can ever dream.
If anyone has questions about anything -- mechanical things*, car brands, F1, or even non-car stuff, let me know!
*If you ask for it, my advice might not be right, but it will be free, and that's certainly something.
<3!
