We always had one on the farm. It basically was our pickup. Had no idea it was underpowered, either. My dad would load it full of strawberries or plums, and then pull a trailer full to market at least once a week......
Yeah they're all remembered with romance and wow-wow now. Personally after having to depend on a 1966(?) unit in the mid-70s I wouldn't give you a dime for a dozen if I had to use one. Always wanted to somehow get enough dynamite to blow that thing back to Hell where it came from. Absolutely couldn't fix it fast enough to stay ahead of the next breakdown. Ya'll can have em all.
Colossians 3:17 (New King James Version) "And whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him."
Our main vehicle, the only one I can recall bought new, was a '69, by then they were squarer in profile with a one piece windshield..
We transported a good-sized pony in it once, had to take out the middle seat of course, put down a tarp and IIRC sawdust.
I learned to drive on those two VW microbuses Of course they were slow compared to most, but a teenage kid could still keep 'em floored and work through those four speeds so they could be scary fast at times
Birdwatcher
"...if the gentlemen of Virginia shall send us a dozen of their sons, we would take great care in their education, instruct them in all we know, and make men of them." Canasatego 1744
Wouldn't it be amazing if foresight were a common commodity?
In hindsight it seems so easy to envision that a common item, like ordinary guns in their time, would soar in value. What if somebody had said "Hey, lets not junk those P-51s, etc., they'll be worth six figures someday"? Or the bought-new 1966 Toyota Landcruiser I sold a few years later.
It seems so simple...
Paul
If you really want a good laugh and eye opener, check the original retail price on some of the guns you're buying or already own. It's an education in real economics in itself.
Not the derivatives of the meltdown(s).
Slaves get what they need. Free men get what they want.
OTOH, I wish I had my Dad's old Crosley, Isetta, 52 yellow Willys Jeepster and several others that we drove when we were living rather frugally.
Norman Solberg International lawyer, lately for 25 years in Japan, now working on trusts in the US, the 3rd greatest tax haven. NRA Life Member for over 50 years, NRA Endowment (2014), Patron (2016).
Oh for a bit of foresight....Back in the 80's it would have been so easy to find several of these buses in good shape and put them in the barn under tarps. Now they'd be a big boost toward the retirement program.
“In a time of deceit telling the truth is a revolutionary act.” ― George Orwell
It's not over when you lose. It's over when you quit.
Forty years ago in my '64 microbus, bunch of people in the back, late on Saturday night in that era when driving drunk and minor in possession didn't have all the legal penalties they (rightfully) do today. Following some guy in a worked-over Chevelle to a party. The steering box was worn out so it actually weaved slightly side to side and needed constant corrections on the wheel (), hard right at a stoplight.
Hand over hand quick on that big flat wheel (how many turns was it lock to lock anyhow?), microbus leans outside at a crazy angle, inside rear wheel way unloaded, maybe off of the ground. Dim headlights sweep the windshield of a car waiting at the light, wide-eyed look of horror on the faces of said occupants clearly remembered.
It nearly died coming back from a trip up the Gaspe Peninsula along the St Lawrence after my freshman year at college, but got me safely back home before it did (on three cylinders at the end IIRC, and I had stretched the funds so far on that trip that the bridge toll coming back west across the Hudson near home woulda been a deal-breaker if they had charged east to west instead of just west to east ).
I cant imagine now why we sold it, looking back it actually worked like a champ on dirt tracks through the mountains crossing the Gaspe. To us at the time it was just an old and wore-out vehicle is all, I had nowhere to keep it at college, and my brother was already in to a new Datsun B210, plainly the next generation of vehicles. I think we needed the money for something else, disposable income being generally short.
My next vehicle was a rusted-out AMC Scout. No complaints except it was so rusted that the driver's side door lock fell clear out (the holes in the floor had been of minor import, folks was used to seeing the road through holes in the floorboards back then). Anyway, no worries on the door lock thing, I would just run my belt through the inside door arm rest and around my thigh to hold it closed ( ).
Then came the little '69 Opel Kadette wagon, my home for some months in New Mexico, before I left for Africa. We didn't expect cars to go 200,000 miles back then, not even 100,000, and took for a given the necessity for frequent wrenching on 'em merely to keep 'em running. But they were simpler machines back then, and easily wrenched on.
Birdwatcher
"...if the gentlemen of Virginia shall send us a dozen of their sons, we would take great care in their education, instruct them in all we know, and make men of them." Canasatego 1744