i remember when the odometer on my '67 deluxe rolled over...i had just returned from the tour of kansas city, and was cruising down university avenue to the bagel shop, 41st and uni, and i rolled to a stop, just to admire it--00000--and to quietly wonder how many times before that old speedo had seen all 00s, and how many times it would see it again. i bought that particular vw bus--the quintessential hippie bus, split window, walk-through front seat, seven-passenger with a 1600 dual port and a two-barrel webber carb, and a slightly lowered stance--in 1992, after my 76 bus caught fire, also shortly after a trip home from the tour of kc during which the accelerator cable snapped [that one was a handicapped van with an automatic transmission--not a good vw combination, by the way]--and over the course of two full race seasons i put on over 60000 miles, driving to superweek twice, to new york, arkansas and oklahoma several times, and all around the midwest in that sweet old bus, to superweek and ragby in july and cyclocross in rockford, illinois, in cold december--never with any heat, but always with really loud music, and generally two or three dogs, several friends, lots of bikes, and countless road stories. here we are, the ordinary racing team, stopping for a smoke on the way home from another successful weekend of racing somewhere in middle america. we fucking COOKED, that team. rock racing has NOTHING on us: bentleys and escallades? who needs 'em? we had a style and class that money couldn't buy, in a manner of speaking.
thanks for visiting, you hundred thousand people.