At 11:04 AM 7/7/96, Mark Janello wrote:
>was admittedly mostly junk.  This proved to be the case, as heavy wire baskets
>of rusty old pistons and rods were loaded into my bus, as well as an engine
>which had seized sometime in the 70's and had sat outside since then (it had
>a "B" on it but no serial number, a replacement case?).

        Mark, you're too modest; that 2/3 of a long block came at a price.
We first had to hack our way through the dense undergrowth with machetes.
There!  Sticking up through the tangle of poison ivy vines was an oil
cooler, bone dry & a bit rusty, but still standing tall and proud.
Mustering all of our strength we wrenched the power plant free from the
earth & rolled it over onto its side.  It was already lunchtime, but we
pressed on.  All seemed to be going well, but little did we know that this
venerable long block was now home to thousands of huge, mutant
hairy-chested mosquitos.  They demanded to be called "sir" or "madam" (as
appropriate) and would not let us continue on our mission without
payment--in blood.  There was no question in our minds--we knew what we had
to do.  No sacrifice was too small.  Mark brought the Kombi around and the
vines which were growing through the lone heater box (itself becoming one
with the earth) were hacked off.  Mark was clever enough to come up with a
technique for approximate engine dating there in the field:  hack through a
vine & count the rings.  Brovo, Mark!  Lost in the wilds of Michigan, we
got directions to the nearest burger joint from one of the locals.  "Go
right, then left; left again at the signal.  We've got *four* signals now!"

        I've recovered from the burgers, but I fear that the mosquitos have
scarred me for life.  (Thanks for the fuel pumps, Mark.  And Dan--that
radio bracket is definitely '70-down Type III.)

-Greg
'71 squareback
'63 Beetle