Rusty

I have been working at The Bank for awhile now. In fact, my contract does not allow me to work there longer than 18 months without taking a contiguous 6 months off. Since I started in November 2008, that 18 months is now. It's kind of a relief to have an expiration date. It's a date everyone knows is coming and we can all plan for it. There is a chance they can arrange to have me work longer, but I've been looking forward to having at least a couple of months off this summer, so I'm taking the time off regardless.

I have tossed around some ideas for places to go during my time off. One friend said she might go to Madagascar. That sounded intriguing. I still want to visit Japan. Now that I have some money saved up, I can consider trips to places with slightly larger price tags.

But it occurs to me sometimes while I'm traveling, that I am flying so far from home to visit foreign countries, when I have never even really explored my own home country that extensively.

So I toyed with the idea of a cross country road trip.

After mulling over possible routes, I decided that the most pleasant place to drive during the summer might be the Northwest, including Oregon, Washington, and British Columbia. The weather is likely to be nice and mild and I hear that part of the country is striking, to say the least.

It occurred to me that, although I have grown up and lived most of my life in California, I have never been much north of Mendocino in my adult life. It seems like a crying shame. So I should. I will.

I haven't owned a vehicle in a couple years now. I have liked living car-free. It has been surprisingly easy. The only real drawback is when it comes time to leave the city. I'm helpless... stranded. I can rent a car. But it's tough to justify spending $60 to go visit a friend just to say hello. I knew I'd have to rent sometimes, and in the long run I'm still ahead budget-wise. But still.

Taking a trip for a month or more in the Northwest seemed like it would be expensive. Accommodations can cost upwards of $100 per night, at least around the Bay Area. That would drain my savings too quick. So I thought maybe I could get a vehicle I could sleep in.

Once an Australian friend of mine told me how common it is down under for young people to buy a van, take a trip for several months, and then sell the van. I had never considered such a thing, but it made so much sense. A used car is worth more or less what it was a few months before. So, besides gas and repairs, the use of it is essentially free. It made renting a car seem outrageously expensive by comparison. I wondered if I could do something similar.

Because of the economic meltdown over the past couple years, the RV market was the first and most deeply affected. RVs and the like are the first luxuries to get sold off when folks need extra money. The market had been flooded with cheap ones.

That's great when you want to buy one and hold onto it. But what if you want to sell it in a few months when you're done? You can't. Craigslist is flooded with them.

There are other problems with an RV I couldn't get over. One is that most of them are pretty big and cumbersome to drive around. They don't seem especially "cool" to drive. Maybe for a few days, but not day in and day out. Storage is also a problem. Where would I park the thing? I live in the middle of a dense city. Parking is difficult, and though I have a garage parking space, an RV wouldn't fit in it. I'd have to store it somewhere... for a fee.

I focused instead on the VW Vanagon. I have always thought they were super cool, and the Westfalia conversion turns them into a mini RV. Best of all, it might even fit in my garage.

After some research, I realized a couple of things. Westies are old. The last Vanagons were built in 1991. They are also popular. Even though the Bay Area has a higher than average concentration of them, they still aren't super easy to come by. And when you do see them, they can be pricey. Prices range widely, from about $7,000 to $15,000. There is even a company that specializes in fixing them up and selling them for as much as $60,000 or more. Mind you, these are 20 year old cars.

The good news is that, if I could somehow scrape together the cash to get one, I could, in theory, sell it pretty easily when I was done with it.

I watched Craigslist closely for weeks to get an idea of values, and one Sunday in April, made some appointments to see them and asked my good friend Michael to come along since he has a better eye for mechanical issues than I do. He was enthusiastic about helping because he really likes VWs. He had a couple old buses of his own, so he knew what to look for.

Mainly I just wanted something in reasonable shape mechanically that would work well to camp in. I was beginning to form a fantasy in my head of parking it on the edge of a cliff somewhere overlooking a lush valley, and chilling at places like that for a few days at a time.

We saw a couple of vans that were in various states of disrepair or discomfort. I was ready to give up for the day, but Michael found a couple more listings and called them since they were on the way home.

We met Moishe to see his rust colored 1981 air-cooled Westy. It was parked out on Telegraph road in Berkeley. He popped the top for us and we got in. As soon as I walked into it, I knew I wanted it. After Michael gave the thumbs up on its mechanical state, I immediately offered Moishe a little less than he asked, and he accepted.

I knew that I was taking a risk. This was, after all, a 29 year old car, and I had not had it checked out thoroughly by a mechanic. But a car that old will always need something. If it drives well now, that's good enough for me. It had a few blemishes. The sliding door and hatchback had been replaced. The paint job on them wasn't exactly professional. The pop top worked well, but was painted black for some reason, and had some of the canvas patched in spots. But his phone rang several times from other prospective buyers. I knew I might not have Michael again so easily, and I also knew the closer we got to summer, the more scarce these vans would get.

So I pulled the trigger. For better or for worse. I handed over $5,500. It felt like a fair price to me given the supply and demand.

And so I drove her home, with Michael following behind on the Bay Bridge (just in case). I had resolved myself to the possibility that she might not fit in my garage. I had measured the height of my garage door and the height of the van. It was close. Very close. Any my driveway has a slant which makes it hard to tell what will really happen on entry. Before deciding to buy the van, I asked myself, "If you didn't have a garage at all, would that prevent you from buying the van?" It wouldn't. I would still buy it. So I did. And guess what... It fit. Just barely.

Hallelujah! That makes my life so much easier.

Now she needs a name.

What better name for an ancient rust colored cutie pie.

Rusty.