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