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Date:         Sat, 5 May 2001 10:19:07 -0500
Reply-To:     wilden1@juno.com
Sender:       Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@gerry.vanagon.com>
From:         Stan Wilder <wilden1@juno.com>
Subject:      Ex Mercedes
Content-Type: text/plain

Many years ago I purchased a 1956 Mercedes 190SL Convertible.

It was a very pretty car and quite expensive compared to the average American made cars at the time.

This has to go down as the second worst car I've ever owned (first worst GMC Diesel pickup1980) it seemed to have a hex on it or something. The ring and pinion failed, very rare. The dual carburetors were impossible to tune. It didn't stop very well. It was one of the first with an overhead cam and the valves needed adjusting regularly as the drive chain or the glider shoes on the chain wore.

I think you've got the picture.

One day I had my girlfriend take me to the dealership to pick up the car and it wasn't ready so I took off walking down the service bay. My girlfriend, walking behind me, noticed the car before I did and she commented "Gee that car must be broke a lot, they have a service stall named Stan".

The car was broke a good portion of the time but the mechanic occupying the stall was also named Stan.

As luck would have it they were waiting for parts so I didn't get my car that day.

That evening my girlfriend and I were at an Exxon station and there was a 190sl Mercedes there in the drive.

We were driving my girlfriends Pontiac and while paying for my gas at the cashiers counter my girlfriend commented that there was Mercedes in the drive.

The man standing behind us started talking and was just beaming with pride saying, "that's a Mercedes 190sl, it's quite a car, I just love, and it's really fun to drive and Yada Yada so forth"

I turned and said "really?"

He said "yes"

I said "I always wondered what mine would look like, hardly ever seen it with the hood closed".

----------------------------------------

One sunny afternoon my brother and I were riding around in the 190SL with no particular destination in mind and I turned onto a nice winding road to take some corners.

My brother noticed a Triumph TR4 in front of us about two hundred yards away. There was a blond and a brunette in the car and being young men we weren't going to be satisfied until we got a better look at the women in that sports car and sports car owners were generally friendly people.

We put on the chase but the Triumph was really hard to catch, they apparently were enjoying the mild joy of making some corners too.

In the few minutes devoted to the case my brother mentioned that he'd take the brunette driving and I could have the blond. My heart racing and my Mercedes straining we raced to catch up to the Triumph after they turned back on to a heavily traveled boulevard.

We caught up with them at about the third red light and my blond turned out to be a Russian wolfhound with long blond hair. ------------------------------ Another sunny afternoon my brother and I were cruising the exclusive part of Dallas called Highland Park.

As we were almost always exceeding the speed limits there were often times when we would only catch a glimpse of events around us.

On this particular day I noticed something lying next to the curb and commented that it looked like someone had lost a fur coat. Were we going pretty fast so rather than stopping and backing up we just made the block and came back around to the same spot. My brother was driving and he geared the transmission down so we were going about eight to ten miles an hour in second gear, I leaned out of the car as far as I could and grabbed the fur as we passed.

Well folks that wasn't a fur coat, it was a big black chow dog and boy I got to tell you he was some mad a being dragged from his sleeping place next to the curb, not to mention that I was holding a hand full of his fur in my hand.

I'm yelling at my brother to speed up and he's not responding fast enough for me, I deliver the message that the fur was a badass chow dog and he's trying to come into the car with us.

He was pushing throttle, changing gears and laughing and after the better part of a long block the chow dog just gave it up!

Stan Wilder 83Westfalia Air Cooled


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