Tuesday, April 9, 2013

The Return of BUG - Will It Ever End?

Who knew "the old grind" could be so literal?
With stiff calloused hands, so very tired of grinding, I am thankful beyond measure that Bug has her 1st primer coat!  It won't be long before she is ready for paint.  Oh, they just grow up so quickly these days...
But wait, was it really that easy?  Oh, no way.  Complicating matters, my young daughter is home for Spring Break, and a beautiful camp trip to the wilds of Mt. Hood sure make coming home to a dank and dusty garage a real challenge...between each pass of the sander, my mind's eye paints vast ancient landscapes and lamenting their passage.  QUIT IT, YOU!  And back to work.  
It really has been a maddening couple of weeks.  There really was no telling what was lurking under old paint: years of shoddy body work and poorly repaired fender-bender damage.  I had hoped for a quick "strip down", but alas this was not to be.  Each panel required hours of loving care, and I am now fully off my rocker.
The worst fender of the bunch, requiring a ton of pounding and grinding.  After all of this, I was only able to save two of Bug's fenders - and neither were original to the car.
Pretty slick, dontcha think?  
Just about there
Bug's last re-tap!  She is now fully threaded.
 And now all 4 fenders are done!  My goodness.

Either it's the fumes, or really encroaching madness (who can tell???), but as I sand, and grind, and sand some more, strange eyes start to pop out of the bodywork.  Lots of them.
It reminds me of Northwest Coastal Native artwork, where it is believed there are higher powers lurking in everything.  It seems appropriate.






Finally, Bug is ready for primer.  It almost seems a shame to cover up all that hard work and weird patterns, but the whole point is for them to disappear.


 No rust in the rear wells!  I applied tar-like spray undercoating for good measure.

DONE?!?!  No but getting there.
And just in time to finish the last 2 wheels.

Today, as I sit writing this and waiting for paint to dry in the cold garage, it gives me time to pause and reflect, and wonder just what the hell I'm thinking.  But once she's a pretty girl again it will be all worth it, and there will be another Volkswagen survivor plying our wet streets.  At least until the oil runs out.

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