Its not often in a persons life that an opportunity arises to drive a 1973 Volkswagen thing from California to Costa Rica and get paid for it.
For me the call came in July of 2007, I had more or less forgotten that I had even put the car up for sale, and I was sitting at my sisters farm in beaver creek Oregon when it did come, I don't remember the exact words that were spoken, but it went something like this; I want to buy your car, will you take 8000 for it? would you be interested in delivering it to Costa?
Yes seemed like the right answer at the time so thats what I said.
Between monsoons, hurricanes, and missed connections, some months passed before we had all the details worked out, agreed on a plan of action, and money and titles changed hands, but somewhere near Thanksgiving of 07 I found myself planning the details for the Sunday drive of a lifetime.
Trying to get out of the country was not the simplest task for me, since having fought a bout with cancer a couple of years ago I have found myself more than a little financially challenged, its only due to the kindness of family and friends that I have been able to maintain the lifestyle to which hard work made me accustomed to, (oh and selling off every asset I owned helped too) so I gave up my apartment in early December and surfed a series of couches for nearly a month, and tried to live on the cheap (something I hardly excel at), I have an eclectic group of friends to say the least, so my couch surfing was a drug, alcohol, and fiesta based month, too much to describe in one post here, lets just say it was a long strange trip that included Kalashnikov's being built for a militia in god knows where, manicuring marijuana for market, and generally celebrating the holiday season with that strange group of people I call friends.
When I finally did hit the road, I had what I thought would be plenty to get me to Costa Rica, well it took a couple three trips to western union, some creative financing and some definite aches and pains along the way, but this was after all the road trip of a lifetime, that was many months in the making, many years in dreaming and many days of driving, Rolling down the road was a ride on Pete Townsends magic bus, 4000 miles of twisting turning roads that ranged from nearly perfect to almost non existent, I met people from over twenty countries, almost used a crocodile as a speed bump, carried marijuana unknowingly through a military checkpoint with a crazed German Shepard and spent time with so many great folks that its just one giant blur of love, light, and laughter. I bought a bag of horse shit (literally) spent Australia day drunk with a bunch of cool kids, scoped out perfectly deserted beaches and drove drove drove, I drove through two wheel bearings, a set of oil seals, three high pressure oil lines and a broken brake line, three speedometer cables, and 2 throttle cables and 6 border crossings. I Played cards with 5 men carrying sidearms in El Salvador (and won) and met a litany of characters, creeps, lovely young goddesses and gods, hung out with artists and surfboard shapers from South America and born again christians from Mexico, and lost a wheel, a knife, and my proto breaker bar in Nicaragua.
When I was just 50km from my destination, I was completely out of money, patience, and oil, the transmission was a bit touchy, and the cd player was on Hiatus, I bummed the use of a cell phone and got my new friend Jim to get me twenty dollars (the new friend I still had not met) this got me the oil I needed and into the mountains I roared, the stereo returned from its vacation, the transmission seemingly smoothed out, I kicked up a live Jackmormons disk and prepared to hand over the car I spent much money, blood, sweat and tears building, the only thing that rang in my head was one of Jim's only questions (will it go fast on Dirt Roads) The stereo blaring, there was no more babying the car down the road, with little or no regard for my safety or the safety of those on the roads, I gripped the accelerator, felt the front wheels lighten, and drove that twisting turning dirt track like a man possessed, through the river, over the hills to Jim's house I go, it was a liberating and free feeling, not melancholy or bittersweet in any way, it was the end of a long journey, and the beginning of another.
When I pulled into the driveway, I realized I may have arrived at one of the coolest beach houses I have ever seen, when Jim and his friend Hazer walked out and greeted me with a Rum and two big smiles I knew I was in the right place, we smoked, laughed and drank rum I knew I had done the right thing, La Chingadera had the perfect new home, I had some amazing new friends, and I didn't need to drive for at least a few days...
For me the call came in July of 2007, I had more or less forgotten that I had even put the car up for sale, and I was sitting at my sisters farm in beaver creek Oregon when it did come, I don't remember the exact words that were spoken, but it went something like this; I want to buy your car, will you take 8000 for it? would you be interested in delivering it to Costa?
Yes seemed like the right answer at the time so thats what I said.
Between monsoons, hurricanes, and missed connections, some months passed before we had all the details worked out, agreed on a plan of action, and money and titles changed hands, but somewhere near Thanksgiving of 07 I found myself planning the details for the Sunday drive of a lifetime.
Trying to get out of the country was not the simplest task for me, since having fought a bout with cancer a couple of years ago I have found myself more than a little financially challenged, its only due to the kindness of family and friends that I have been able to maintain the lifestyle to which hard work made me accustomed to, (oh and selling off every asset I owned helped too) so I gave up my apartment in early December and surfed a series of couches for nearly a month, and tried to live on the cheap (something I hardly excel at), I have an eclectic group of friends to say the least, so my couch surfing was a drug, alcohol, and fiesta based month, too much to describe in one post here, lets just say it was a long strange trip that included Kalashnikov's being built for a militia in god knows where, manicuring marijuana for market, and generally celebrating the holiday season with that strange group of people I call friends.
When I finally did hit the road, I had what I thought would be plenty to get me to Costa Rica, well it took a couple three trips to western union, some creative financing and some definite aches and pains along the way, but this was after all the road trip of a lifetime, that was many months in the making, many years in dreaming and many days of driving, Rolling down the road was a ride on Pete Townsends magic bus, 4000 miles of twisting turning roads that ranged from nearly perfect to almost non existent, I met people from over twenty countries, almost used a crocodile as a speed bump, carried marijuana unknowingly through a military checkpoint with a crazed German Shepard and spent time with so many great folks that its just one giant blur of love, light, and laughter. I bought a bag of horse shit (literally) spent Australia day drunk with a bunch of cool kids, scoped out perfectly deserted beaches and drove drove drove, I drove through two wheel bearings, a set of oil seals, three high pressure oil lines and a broken brake line, three speedometer cables, and 2 throttle cables and 6 border crossings. I Played cards with 5 men carrying sidearms in El Salvador (and won) and met a litany of characters, creeps, lovely young goddesses and gods, hung out with artists and surfboard shapers from South America and born again christians from Mexico, and lost a wheel, a knife, and my proto breaker bar in Nicaragua.
When I was just 50km from my destination, I was completely out of money, patience, and oil, the transmission was a bit touchy, and the cd player was on Hiatus, I bummed the use of a cell phone and got my new friend Jim to get me twenty dollars (the new friend I still had not met) this got me the oil I needed and into the mountains I roared, the stereo returned from its vacation, the transmission seemingly smoothed out, I kicked up a live Jackmormons disk and prepared to hand over the car I spent much money, blood, sweat and tears building, the only thing that rang in my head was one of Jim's only questions (will it go fast on Dirt Roads) The stereo blaring, there was no more babying the car down the road, with little or no regard for my safety or the safety of those on the roads, I gripped the accelerator, felt the front wheels lighten, and drove that twisting turning dirt track like a man possessed, through the river, over the hills to Jim's house I go, it was a liberating and free feeling, not melancholy or bittersweet in any way, it was the end of a long journey, and the beginning of another.
When I pulled into the driveway, I realized I may have arrived at one of the coolest beach houses I have ever seen, when Jim and his friend Hazer walked out and greeted me with a Rum and two big smiles I knew I was in the right place, we smoked, laughed and drank rum I knew I had done the right thing, La Chingadera had the perfect new home, I had some amazing new friends, and I didn't need to drive for at least a few days...
Comments
So glad to see you made the delivery. Be safe coming back and get in touch when you're stateside.