Meet Muddy

When you’re a kid, there are often things that get burned into your memory for good. For me, the thought that most got into my head was that someday I would own Volkswagen Beetles in every flavor I could think of. The first family car I can remember was our ’68 Beetle which we named Herbie in honor of the famous film star of the same name. I would spend hours “driving” Herbie in the garage and my Dad would take me down to the Rose Bowl parking lot on the weekend to let me steer Herbie from his lap and actually drive Herbie when I was big enough to reach the pedals and see over the hood. Sadly, when I was in sixth grade Herbie burned up after one of my Dad’s botched attempts at repair failed and set the rear seat on fire while my Mom was driving Herbie. She tried her best to pull the flaming seat out but she couldn’t get it in time despite burning her hands pretty badly. Herbie’s Viking funeral pyre exit was my first real experience with death and grief and it shook me badly.

Another Beetle that left an impression was a ’63 or so Baja Bug owned by the father of my good friend and babysitter Brad. The Baja was a kind of faded yellow and had big wide tires on the back that were worn enough to let Brad hang the tail out at will around the corner at the end of the block I grew up on. We’d skid around dozens of times and it just never got old to hear the tires scuffing along the pavement as we wagged back and forth up the hill.

With that memory in mind, I decided I needed to build myself a Baja to relive some of those good times and also to give some local rallycross events a try. What better vehicle is there than an old Beetle to hit the trails and rip up some dirt with?

The search began and I looked at many sad Bajas that all had led pretty hard lives. Cracked fiberglass, bent up frames, and rotted floorpans were the norm for the cars I found on Craigslist. However, during one of the searches I came across a ’70 Beetle up in the Sierra foothills that had no engine but came with a transmission and didn’t have a ton of rust. It hadn’t been made into a Baja yet but it had some damage to both the front and rear aprons that made me think it wouldn’t be a crime to slice them off as is the custom when one creates a proper Baja Bug.

I struck a deal with the seller for $700 and asked him if the road he lived on could accommodate a truck and trailer as it looked a little sketchy on Google Maps. He assured me the road was in fine repair with plenty of room so my son and I hitched up the trailer and headed out into the woods on a rainy December Saturday.

Unfortunately, when we turned off the highway to get to where the Beetle was the road went from not great to really bad with plenty of slick mud and huge ruts everywhere waiting to stick us in the soup. We managed to get to the house without too much drama but the car was down a hill and there was no good way to winch it up using the trailer. Luckily the fellow who was selling the car had three burly young men in the house so after some grunting and straining the Beetle was up on the road. I knew the car was missing a steering wheel so I slapped on a spare I brought along and we gave the car one last shove to get it up on the trailer.

There was no way we could back out the way we came in so we started our trip home down another road that was even worse than the first one. With some judicious application of throttle and popping the truck into 4WD low range we managed to make it back to I-80 but the entire rig and the little Beetle were all covered in mud from the bogging we had to do on the way out. And that, sports fans, is how Muddy the Baja Bug got her name…