Date: Sat, 2 Aug 1997 13:52:03 -0800
From: Charlie Ford <cford@mindspring.com>
Subject: Detroit Breakdowns and Shakedowns

Posted from Cincinatti........

After finishing the workshop in Detroit I was heading out of town on one of
the bumpier interstate highways I have ever had the privilege of driving
upon.  Interstate 75, along with every other interstate, mainstreet, and
side street and alley in Detroit is nothing more than a long series of
potholes.

I bumped along going south looking for a place to exit and make the calls
to Gary Gibson and Ed Gould who, as I mentioned had dropped me some mail to
contact them before I left town.  I finally found an exit that looked
reasonably safe.  Detroit is one of those cities where crime is rampant and
a white guy getting off at the wrong exit could become dead or mugged
really quickly.  I really didn't feel like meeting the local coroner today
so I passed up couple places that looked a bit like Beirut.

Finally, after an exhaustive search, I eased over to the outside lane and
prepared to make my exit.  I attempted to downshift into third, and the
Mothership was just not going to have that at all.  I sort of cursed a
little swear word, thinking that the clutch had loosened once again, just
as it had on my way to Fountain City, Wisconsin.

I finally nursed her off and found a place that I could crawl underneath
and adjust it once more to the right place.  "Hmmm".........I said as I got
underneath.  The clutch didn't appear to be in any different adjustment
than it had when I adjusted it in Wisconsin.  The clutch pedal seemed to
have the right amount of clearance and play to it.  I couldn't figure it
out.

I got to a pay phone in a truck stop, that by the way, was filled with
ladies of the night.  I thought this very suspicious since it was
mid-afternoon.  I quickly summized it must be the first shift.  The truck
stop was a pretty rough looking place, so I decided I would stay near my
bus as much as possible and not venture to far away from my trusty
jackhandle.

I pulled up right beside the phone booth and made the call, constantly
aware of all that was happening around me.  First I called Ed, but no one
was home, then Gary.  Gary answered on the second ring and after I told him
of my problem he said he could come to me in about 45 minutes.  I settled
back into the Mothership and pondered what my problem might be.  I must say
for a while I was at something of a loss.  But then I often am.

As I pondered the great VW mystery, I had a hooker come up and ask me if
she could help me out.  I didn't figure she knew a whole lot about
Volkswagens so I had to turn her down.  Her body was ugly, her face was
fair, and she was wearing black spandex with and cotton blouse.

Please let me explain, I love sex, I love it almost as much as I love food,
but there are some things I won't eat, and therefore there are some things
I won't have sex with, especially a woman so far out of vogue with fashion.


I am sure she was a great individual, and probably some fellas would find
her attractive, and she surely fills a void in someones life, but my void
was not that large, so I passed her favors on to the next guy or gal,
whoever that might be.

I sat there and finally came up with what might be my problem.  You know
that little shift coupling that sits between the linkage and the tranny.  I
had changed one at Doug's, and that had to be the culprit.  By George it
might be it.

I got out my trusty, crusty Bentley Manual (provided me by Jack Stafford)
and started reading a bit.  I was just about to get out and crawl
underneath when a little brown Peugeot drove by.  A red-haired guy inside
the little French car looked at me as he passed.  I figured it was Gary or
maybe a gay male hooker looking for some action.  Sure enough it was Gary.
I can't say how much that pleased me.  I would have hated to break two
hearts in one day.

Gary pulled up and we introduced ourselves to one another.  I explained
what I had already troubleshot out, and explained about the little
coupling.  He said "well...lets take a look at it."  he slipped on his
coveralls, which he kept in the back of his car, and slid underneath.  He
immediately said, "yep, here the problem".  I crawled underneath and took a
look.  Sure enough the entire innards of the gizzard were gone.  The rubber
bushings had just disappeared.  Somehow swallowed up by many miles of
highway travel.

This little piece is what holds the shifter in place and directs it while
you are shifting.  As I mentioned, I had changed one while working at
Doug's a few weeks before, and new it wasn't a tough job, just sort of
cumbersome.  At least it wasn't my clutch, but now we were presented with
the new problem of getting it somewhere to work on it, and then finding the
part itself.

Gary said that I could go over and camp at his parents home a few days.  I
asked if they would mind.  He explained that they were not at home when he
left so we would have to find that little tidbit out when we got to his
house.  I followed him there.

We took the backstreets along an area called Rough Park.  Yep, just as you
would expect, it looked pretty damned rough.  Trash all over, cars with
windows busted out sitting here and there.  Folks just sitting in there
cars in the middle of nowhere for no apparent reason.  All in all the road
through the "Rough Park" was one of the smoother I had driven since
arriving in Detroit.

Gary drove along at about 30 mph, mainly because the only gears I was sure
of getting were first and second.  After we got going I did actually get it
to fall into 4th, but only with some sweet talk and prayer.  We made it to
his parents home an hour later and settled in for the evening.

Gary's parents are lovely people.  They welcomed me in and told me that it
was no problem at all.  very nice folks, both of them.  The nicest I had
met in Detroit thus far.  I felt very comfy with my new surrounding's.

I felt somewhat relieved that I was somewhere I would be safe.  I was also
relieved that once again there was someone there that knew the area and I
could count on.  It re-iterated the fact that the "list" has been my
community while I have been on the road.  Community is something we
sometimes take for granted, but it will be a long time before I take that
for granted again.

The next morning we got up and after having some breakfast, Gary called the
parts stores that he knew might have the part.  Finally he found one in
Royal Oak, or "Dead Oak" as it is called these days.  This is the city
where Jack Kevorkian lives.  You know "Dr. K" the death Doc.  Oh, it is
also said that he drives a type 2 bus, I wonder if he might be on the list
as a lurker.  Maybe he puts up a ghost post every now and then.
Maybe..........

The parts guy explained to Gary that he would have to order the part and
that it would be the next day before he could get it in.  Gary said that
would be fine and hung up the phone.  I felt very relieved that we even
found the thing in such short order.  I mean, I was in Detroit, the womb of
all American cars.

Gary then said that he had called a friend of his named Carl to see if he
could give us a tour of the city.  Carl, as Gary explained is a
millionaire.  He used to work for GM but because of cutbacks had left with
something of a sum of money which he quickly started investing here and
there, eventually making it rich.

Carl was a trip to say the least.  He is a world traveler, a plain guy,
hyper as an ant on a hot stove, and a "capitalist pig".  Gary labeled him
as the Capitalist Pig prior to me ever meeting him.  I can now see why.

Carl is a good guy, but all he does is make money.  He is sort of a
smartass, but a likable one.  I am not sure he was impressed at all with me
or with what I am attempting to do with my trip around the country.  he
just didn't seem to relish the "common man's dream" as much as I.  That is
OK, I can accept diversity of thought.

He still lives at home with his Mother, he still drives a beat up VW Rabbit
that in all honesty should have died years ago.  He drives it like it is a
dune buggy, which is what most drivers need in Detroit because of the holes
in the road.  He loves money, and doesn't spend much of it.  He only wants
to make it.  And make it he does.

After Gary and I drove over to Carls in the Peugeot, Carl took us in his
car to see Detroit.  I am still not quite sure what all we saw, but I can
assure you we saw the city.  We drove down side streets doing 90 miles per
hour, and all along the way Carl was pointing out the points of interest.
We flew along interstate highways at 80 mph.  We drove through gangbanger
hoods like we belonged there.  Most of the points of interest Carl pointed
out consisted of now abandoned building's left from the days when Detroit's
economy was booming.  The auto industry thrived here once, but now it has
subsided and left only the skeleton of it's greatness.

It was a very depressing site to see what was once a center of industry,
now reduced to nothing more, at least in some areas, to a ghost town.  The
people looked so tired and depressed, and angry.  The jobs have all left
and the folks that remain are either wealthy or poor.

In my opinion it is this separation that causes riots and uprisings.  The
frustrations that come with being poor are real.  Folks don't feel like
they have any hope, therefore they lash out.  Rather than being a violent
move, it is more of an attempt to do "something", "anything".  As we drove
I was saddened by the "shape of this once great city".

The most positive and inspiring thing I saw on the "Carls Hurricane
Deathride Tour" was a place called the Hiedelberg Project.  It is a common
city street in Detroit that an artist has chosen as his canvas.  This fine
African American gentleman has created an entire street of art.  He has
taken houses donated to him and made them into modern day pieces that
depict social distress and culture.

As you walk along the you see dots of different colors painted on the
roadway, this depicts the diversity we all share.  You see a row of shoes,
portraying the suffering of the homeless in the soup lines.  Another pile
of shoes tells the story of the Jewish folks that suffered at the hands of
Nazi Germany.  In another part you see trees with dolls hung from them.
Some of the pieces are very haunting, and seem to devour your senses they
are so large and so strong in statement.

I was amazed and touched by this outcry of distress, at the same time I was
inspired by the fact that one man had made it his passion, his delight, to
portray such atrocity thereby bringing an awareness that fosters hope and
action in the people that see it.  If you get to Detroit, don't miss
"Hiedleberg Street" and the "Hiedelberg Project".

We had the privilege to meet the artist himself, and speak with him about
his cause.  He is a true gentleman of good nature.  He explained that the
work is meant to build people up, and bring the people of the city together
to rebuild a more positive way of life.  The people make the city, it is
not the building or the government, it is the people, and only them.  I
left feeling much better to have seen it, than to have missed it.  What a
work in progress!

The next day Gary and I worked on my bus.  I got the coupling in and oh,
what a difference.  The Mothership shifted like a new bus.  Although, I
personally have never driven a new bus.  If I were you guys I would take a
look at that part and change it before it gets bad.  It could leave you
sitting one day if it rots out really bad.  The part only cost around
$10.00 and can be changed in about thirty minutes.

That evening we went to see the Detroit Tigers play baseball.  They lost
something like 134 to 2, a slight exaggeration, but it was pretty bad.  The
Brewers put a whuppin on them that Ajax might not would take off.  back to
back homers, and several RBI's.  It was a great game, at least from
Milwaukee's point of view.  The fireworks after the game were stupendous
and had all of the crowd applauding in the end.  The bleacher seats are
where we sat and that was also an outstanding part of the game.  A good
time was had by all.  The fans of Detroit are fans of baseball, not
necessarily the Tigers.  A good time was had by all.

In my next post I will tell you of the Milan VW Meet where I met several
new list members, and actually entered the Mothership in a car show.  She
was the prettiest damn one there, although the judges didn't think so.
Ain't it a shame they judge them on outer beauty and not function or
spirit?

Thanks for tolerating my rambling's.

Charlie Ford


"79" Transporter, dressed for the road
The Mothership

 The"Turning 40 Nostalgic VW Service Tour, and
Search for the Beginning of Wind".

http://www.armory.com/~y21cvb/charlie/charlie.html

"Wider still and wider.....shall thy bounds be set"