I rolled my ’71 Beetle. It ended up on the passenger side. The driver’s door was crimped in, and I had to climb out through the window. I didn’t have a back seat in it, so battery acid went everywhere in the cabin. A couple people who saw the accident from the highway came over to see if I was okay. We got it back on its wheels, it managed to start, and I continued on to work. I kept driving it for a couple years after that, until the engine cracked. I had to leave it on a side street in Denver, and when I was able to get back to it, it had been stripped.
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See we all have a lot in common - yesterday my Father’s Day treat was a trip with the fam to Tate Britain in London, and they are holding a phenomenal exhibition of van Gogh and his influences (both pre and post). I’m not a big art chap, but nothing comes close to real life van Gogh. Maybe the Canadian 3d rendering that got lots of attention - and I’d pay good money for that! But nothing else.
The painting that arrested me and held me for 10 minutes? Starry Night.
I think Bug owners buy a ticket to the metaphysical when they first turn that ignition on.
Bugs and Stars. My new band name.
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Too bad about the dismal end, but bravo for being able to just tip it back on its wheels and driving away.
Edit to add:
My '70 microbus had been rolled by a former owner. The reason I finally had to let it go was (I think) a complication of it having some odd residual stresses. I went through generator pulleys and cylinder heads about as fast as motor oil.
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The Hate Bug?
He would make it as heart-warming as a trip to Mainstreet USA.
Herbie the Love Bug is a decent guy, but you don’t want to meet his infamous grandfather Helmut das Völkermordauto.
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1956 roll top. Tiny rear-window. Mechanically engaged reserve tank. That means when the car starts to sputter you kick a lever with your foot for another gallon of gas.
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The levers were hand operated in the VW and Porsche, iirc. Zu, Auf and Res, baby.
That was no dream. Except your cabriolet is in my garage waiting for you.
Oh, and she’s a '73.
And there’s some storage fees we need to discuss.
(I’ve needed to find her a good home for many years but have not worked up the fortitude to deal with the craigslist buying public.)
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Which US State is that in?
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I enjoyed it up to 3:18… then the only-tedious-to-me small sized racism started.
Who is this plonker? Ee’s a fookin raycyste geeza! 
America, get some new words in your Mockney impressions of Brits, it just sounds ignorant and lame. And it’s always the same impressions from ancients times. A whole heap of lard has happened to the UK since you all decided one impression will do in 1814. What did happen that year? Something must have annoyed ya or something? Better still, come to the UK and learn some modern culture from there, so you’re just as relevant again to the UK the same amount as the UK is as obviously irrelevant to you.
Come visit and correct the ignorance by just 1 person. We don’t bite Americans… well… not the ladies we don’t. We take your ladies for a cor blimey guvvna cup o tea in the landan fogge, or summin.
Fookin raycyst car enfuse-ee-ass farkwhit,
I’m not serious & I’m getting my coat.
Toodle pip.
PS : Beetles are cool.
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Don’t stay out there for another ten months. The weather is fierce mild.
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Yeah my parent’s VW van had that.
I remember being in a restaurant in Panama City when a VW beatle in the car park spontaneously caught fire. My dad said at the time that the battery could be shorted out by a heavy person sitting on the metal sprung rear seat.
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Best book ever, it saved my ass from getting fired many times. I delivered pizzas in my 73 Bug!
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I’m sorry for your loss. I totaled my ‘73 when the master cylinder disintegrated and I rolled down a large hill, crunching into the back of massive 70’s era Lincoln. I cried and cried.
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Well that’s an interesting picture.
Foot lever on the firewall in my mums '63 beetle -the car I learnt to drive in.
Owned a '72 for years. Great cars. Simple as. Beetle aka dakdak (the sound they make).
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Yikes! I hope you got through it okay.
That reminded me of the time I was trying to drive up a hill, stopped at a red light half way up, and both my seat lock popped and my parking brake cable either slipped or snapped. So the only thing keeping me in place on the hill was my leg stretched out as far as it could go, and my toes pushing in just enough on the brake pedal. I couldn’t get to the clutch, and ended up rocking in my seat over and over to get it back up a couple notches, against gravity, while people were honking at me. It took several light changes, and at no point did anyone come see what the problem was.
Fun times.
ETA I was in my early 20s when I had my bug, just out of the Air Force. If something like that happened to me today, I would just roll back into whoever was behind me and pay for the damages. Life’s too short for that kind of stress.
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