Date: Thu, 24 Jun 1999 00:33:04 -0700
Reply-To: Steve Hoge <steve_hoge@WHO.NET>
Sender: Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@gerry.vanagon.com>
From: Steve Hoge <steve_hoge@WHO.NET>
Subject: Defeat snatched from
victoryıs jaws [FS: 89 Syncro Westy] (long!)
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
It was 10PM and I was humming along I-70 through the empty desert of
southern Utah, driving my new Syncro Westfalia with the cruise control
set at 70 and the tunes cranked up on the Alpine CD changer. I was
disappointed to be missing that fantastic southwestern landscape, but I
needed to be back in California in a couple of days. I consoled myself
with self-congratulations for having pulled off the Vanagon deal of the
century: snagging this incredible vehicle - a clean 89 with 90K miles -
for only $12,000. Whoo-hoo!
And thatıs just about the time that the oil pressure light came on.
Turns out Iıd be seeing that desert landscape by the light of day after
all...
But Iım getting ahead of myself. Just a few days before, Iıd been
visiting my girlfriend in Boulder, Colorado, when around the corner from
her house my Vanagon radar (perpetually on seekı) detected an 89 Syncro
Westy parked on the street. An appreciative comment solicited the info
that it might be for sale. Hmm! From the maintenance records, the owner
seemed not to have used it much (only a few thousand miles, but enough to
have replaced one head gasket) and it was too wimpy to haul his growing
family around. Extensive test drives confirmed that it wasnıt as peppy
as the non-Westy 89 Syncro I already owned, but no more sluggish than
Iıd expect due to the extra camper gear. I got more serious.
A local VW shop in Boulder did a thorough pre-purchase inspection on it
and gave it an A+ rating. Good compression, CVs, and 4-wheel drivetrain,
clean coolant and oil, and the brakes, steering and tire wear all checked
out (spare had been rotated with the rest.) A/C cooled, sink pump
worked, stove lit up and the fridge got cold. Check, check, check and
check!
The only scintilla of doubt I had was focussed on that oil pressure
light. After one long test run on the freeway, I had been idling in a
parking lot and I caught a *brief* flicker of the warning light out of
the corner of my eye. *%@?*!! I shut off the van and immediately
restarted it (hey, Iım a computer guy: reboot at the first sign of
anomalous behavior) but I never got it to light up again, nor at any
other time during the next couple of days. It was unnerving enough,
however, that I paid the VW shop an extra hour of shop time to give it a
thorough oil pressure check. Again, it passed with flying colors - musta
been a faulty sender. So much for due diligence.
After some dickering with the owner, during which I convinced him how
much trouble he was saving by not having to advertise the car, detail it,
deal with the barrage of phone calls and tire-kickers, etc., we settled
on a price of $12K. I moved heaven and earth to generate a cashierıs
check and cash from my out-of-town account by a local bankıs
close-of-business on Friday, and Saturday morning we sunk the deal.
By Sunday morning my girlfriend and I were on the road, climbing up over
the continental divide on I-70 through the Eisenhower tunnel, over Vail
Pass and cruising down beautiful Glenwood Canyon. Performance was
as-expected: poky but steady, no hiccups at altitude, and temperature
needle solidly mid-gauge. After a celebratory dip at Glenwood Springs, I
put my girlfriend back on the bus to Boulder and headed west towards
Utah, passing Grand Junction, Moab and Green River...
Now, perhaps I was pushing it a *bit* too hard - for sure, I wasnıt
babying it: drove it just like I do my van at home, topping out a little
above 4K RPM. Or maybe the gods just looked down at my happy ass and
decided a little comeuppance was in order. In any case, I was climbing
up a grade in the darkness about 90 minutes west of Green River when that
oil light came on, and I knew in my heart-of-hearts it was all over. The
strident oil warning buzzer came on too (didnıt even know there *was* a
buzzer), adding to the overall atmosphere of catastrophe - I wouldnıt
wish that sound on anyone! Providentially, at that very moment a ³Scenic
Viewpoint² sign appeared on the right, so I peeled off, coasting in
neutral into a deserted, service-less rest stop.
A peek with the headlamp under the engine didnıt reveal any oil leaking
(nor did it the next day) and the dipstick showed the oil level square
between the dots. Everything *looked* right in the engine compartment.
And while the engine seemed to idle OK, pulling it up to about 2K RPM
generated a frightening clattering sound and relit the warning light. I
shut it off, popped the top, and spent a grand first night in my new van.
Oh boy. Between the stress, the caffiene Iıd pumped myself with in
Green River and the cycling compressor of a big-rig reefer that pulled in
behind me at 3AM, you can imagine how much restful sleep I got.
The next morning, the cooled-down engine exhibited pretty much the same
symptoms. I experienced the joy of my first van-cooked breakfast - that
Westy kitchen is sure great! - and caught a ride with a long-haul trucker
70 miles west to the nearest telephone, in Salina, Utah. A frantic 9AM
Monday call to my insurance company in California - God Bless you, State
Farm! - connected me with the local agent, who was suprisingly sanguine
considering heıd last heard from me at 4:55PM the previous Friday to
confirm that the new van was indeed covered under my existing policy. He
made a comittment to cover the towing charges 200 miles back to Grand
Junction, Colorado, where I was confident of finding a competent VW
mechanic.
The tow driver and I had quite a pleasant ride back through the high
desert with the Westy on top of his flatbed, and we dropped it off in the
yard of Foreign Aid, the best little VW shop in Grand Junction, Colorado
run by the gracious (and loquacious) Steve Stewart. His aural diagnosis
confirmed the ones Iıd gotten by describing the symptoms to other
mechanics over the phone: a salvageable core, but otherwise useless.
Complete rebuild or replacement. I left him awaiting further
instructions, and a combination of busses and planes actually got me back
to California by my deadline. And there the matter rests.
SO, Vanagon Listees: I open up the floor to any and all advice,
suggestions, and purchase offers that could help me dispose of this
diamond-in-the-rough. You can see pictures of it at various stages of my
³adventure² at <http://www.cruzers.com/~steveh/> At this point, Iıd just
like to get my $12K back out of it, so I'd have to consider that a firm
bottom-end sales price (the other expenses I incurred in the purchase go
into the karmic write-off column.) In the interests of full disclosure,
here are the particulars:
1989 Syncro Westfalia
Pros:
* Metallic blue, blue westy top
* 90K miles
* Power windows,locks, mirrors
* After-market awning
* Alpine 10-CD changer
* Brand new battery
* All working camping gear, A/C and cruise control
* No rust, no leaks, good boots, clean interior
* Prepurchase inspection reports (ha ha!)
Cons:
* Dead motor (but the core's good for full credit!)
* No rear diff lock
* Partial service records only (last 3 years)
* Plastic sunroof cracked
* Missing rear wiper, dead motor
* Passenger-side mirror non-motorized
* Slight 2-foot crease rear driverıs side (maybe possible to buff out -
see pix)
* Scuffed rear bumper corner pieces
* 2 inch tear in corner of pop-top canvas, some torn mosquito netting.
* 49-state emissions means $300 smog fee for Calif registration.
This would be a most practical purchase for someone already living in the
Colorado/Utah area, obviously, but Iıve also gotten quotes in the $750
range (one as low as $500?) to transport it to California. Foriegn Aid
seems like a very competent - though busy - shop, and they would be
willing to do an engine replacement there. And of course, this vehicle
is probably the *ideal* candidate for one of the engine transplants weıve
all been dreaming about lately. Anyone interested?
-Steve Hoge
'89 Syncro Westy (RIP)
'89 Syncro (128K miles and cranking!)
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