The Art of Volkswagen Maintenance

Eight years ago, way back in 2001, Serenity and I took a 40-day journey around the western United States. We traveled to 18 National Parks and 22 states. We made it as far east as Kansas City and even went for a swim in the Gulf of Mexico. It was a graduation present for me basically. I was to be done with my Masters degree in teaching (not really a masters, just an extra year of school at an astronomical price to see if you are really serious about sitting in staff meetings about literacy for 4 hours) in May, and I figured I didn't really need to start looking for a job until July or so, so we planned for about a 4-5 week journey. We purchased a 1976 Volkswagen Westfalia pop-top camper van that we then had a rebuilt engine put in. It was 2000 cc of pure power - a minimum of 25 miles per hour up the Rockies - guaranteed!

He purred like a kitten. We nicknamed him Bernie. Volkswagens from this era are actually a lot of fun to drive. Air cooled, so the heat just barely comes out of the vents. In winter I was seen quite frequently driving to school with mittens a ski cap and a down jacket on.

As soon as it looked like I wasn't going to kill any of my professors and graduation was actually something that would likely occur, I began to plan the trip. I laid out every detail, possible scenic routes, roadside attractions, nearby national parks, cool history or scenery. I didn't want to miss out on anything. If we were close, I wanted to go see it. We set a budget and began working on reservations in campgrounds from Yellowstone to the Grand Canyon and Yosemite. We would stay in Walmart parking lots when the money was thin. We rarely ate out, mostly relying on the storage space in the VW, and the 3 burner Coleman stove we brought along. It was seriously a precursor to our current trip - a trial run of sorts without kids and in a smaller vehicle.

We left before 6am on a Monday morning in May. The excitement of the trip was nearly too much to contain. We had loaded up the VW, stacked wood above the front cab for our campfires the first few days, and brewed some coffee. Every detail was accounted for - maps, phone numbers, campsite reservations, cash, etc. The first day we drove east on I-84 through the Columbia River Gorge and then headed north across the river into the apple orchards of eastern Washington. By mid-afternoon we were driving through Spokane and into Idaho. We began to cross the Rockies into Montana for our first nights stop at Beaver Tail Falls in big sky country. The first day of driving was a success - 10 hours of driving, no problems, and we drove through three states.

Next morning Bernie wouldn't start. I had bought this VW repair manual that read like a comic book - everything in it was hand-drawn with funny commentary from the author. After diagnosing the problem, the book told me to take a wrench and tap on the solenoid.

Seriously? Just hit something with a wrench? The book said it, so I did it, and Bernie started right up. However, over the next 5 days, Bernie broke down 6 times. At one point I was so frustrated by it all, I left him running as I filled up with gas - I know, not the smartest, but you weren't there.

We literally coasted into a Walmart in Idaho Falls and I pushed it through the parking lot as Serenity steered it into a good place to stay the night just in case we were stuck there for a few days - it was Friday of Memorial Day weekend. I figured it was the starter, so I got under the back end (most VWs the engine is in the back) and pulled the starter out, which was just simply unscrewing the wires leading to the alternator and solenoid and ratcheting out the bolts keeping it on the engine. I put the starter in a box and began walking down the road in the general direction I thought an auto parts store might be. About a half mile down the road I catch in my peripheral a red truck slowing down with a large bearded man inside who begins to roll down his window. "You need a ride?" he says. I said sure I did and he drove me the rest of the way to the auto parts store. His truck had AC, which was nice since it was nearly 90 degrees outside and even hotter when you are under a Volkswagen. We made small talk while waiting in line, his name was Mr. Robinson, he lived just outside of town was married and had 5 kids. In the near future they were all going to move to Eastern Europe to open an orphanage and share the gospel with the people in a small community in Romania.

His wife and him were on a date night when they saw Serenity and I in the corner of the parking lot. He told her that he wanted to see if I needed help and by the time he came back outside of the store, I was gone, so he went looking for me.

After purchasing a new starter Mr. Robinson gave me a ride back to Walmart where I installed the new part and . . . it still wouldn't start. So, Mr. and Mrs. Robinson invited us to stay at their house until we got it all figured out. He towed us over to his driveway down a long country road in front of an old farm house and then fed us a barbecue meal along with some hospitality and some good conversation. The Robinsons said we were welcome to stay over as many nights as it took - as long as I would help him pack! We didn't roll out of Idaho Falls until the following Monday - after another new starter, new solenoid and some alternator repair. The Robinsons took us in as family, showed us hospitality, gave us encouragement when we needed it and really, didn't ask for anything in return except moving a few cabinets into storage.

One night as I worried about how much the repairs were going to cost, and if our plans would get messed up for staying too long in Idaho Falls, I sat around a square table in the middle of the kitchen of a guy I had only met a day or two earlier, Mr. Robinson said something so simple, yet so true that I have not yet forgotten it: "Andy, its not about the destination, its all about the journey. You've got to find God in the journey."

Sometimes we get so caught up in our schedules, our plans, our calendars, that we forget to live. We are always thinking about what is next, did I plan out next week, or next month, or even next year? What about today, what about this hour, what about this minute? What about the journey? I'm afraid that we are so focused on what is next that one day we will wake up and think, where did it all go? Where was God in all this? Even though I only knew Mr. Robinson and his family for one three-day weekend eight years ago, his words gave me a glimpse of how to truly live and find God - today.