Young's Ole Volks Home

I was supposed to be up at 8 this morning in an attempt to find a fuel pump, but have found that a five a.m. bed time coupled with the relaxed atmosphere created by never setting an alarm makes this a near impossibility. Finally stopping myself from hitting snooze at 10:30 I groggily made some calls around town and found a place called Young's Ole Volks Home that sounded promising.

Making a quick call I was soon chatting with seemingly Young's whole work force until I was connected with Jerry, the resident expert on Vanagons and the proud owner of an '81 Westy himself. He wanted me to drop the van off later in the day but I explained my situation and we agreed on a quick stop around 11:15 that should allow me to be back on the road by noon.

Retracing my drive from yesterday I realized I had just missed the shop in my searches as its address was misleading; it turns out the shop was not directly off of Third and instead was tucked away in a grove of trees up the hill a block. The lumbering drive up the gravel road showed promise, an abundance of old VW Jettas and Bugs and Vanagons lining the driveway. I Walked in and met Jerry, a short, skinny guy of about 50 whose pony tailed gray hair tucked awkwardly under his backwards white baseball cap reminded me of an aging rock star. His appearance belied his kindness and his eyes gave away his excitement upon sight of my Westy.

He asked me to drive it into his shop where he lifted it up on twin ten ton hydraulic jacks. Once the van was off the ground I started to make my way to the waiting room, as this was my typical experience when dealing with auto shops, but I didn't make it more than two steps before Jerry started asking me a number of questions; it seems he was going to let me sit in on the whole operation.

To say that Jerry had ADD would be unfair since I have known the man for less than ten minutes, but with the abundance of phone calls answered and perpetual questions zinged at him from his shop assistant - a shorter, pudgy 40 year old named Chris whose sole job it seemed was to hang out and follow Jerry - I was impressed that Jerry was able to keep his focus. Jerry was a joy to watch, a comedic display of knowledge and folly wrapped into one. His genial nature ever present, Jerry spent the repair session asking me questions and testing me on my knowledge.

To sit in and watch a repair first hand with a guy who was more than willing to teach and to share was invaluable, I was able to learn more in that hour than I could have taught myself in a month. It was funny to watch this little man in action, his actions were sporadic but calculated. Though obviously gifted, his 20 plus years of repair work did not keep him from bumping his head on my back tire on the way out from under my rig. His reaction was priceless, you could sense that this was something that hurt like hell yet something he has done so often he half expected to be impervious to the pain.

Getting to a fuel tank is a thankless job, easy to accomplish but downright dirty. No matter how good of a mechanic you are, spilling gas on yourself is a guarantee. It seems 28 years of use had deposited a large amount of sediment in my gas tank, something confirmed when we disconnecting the fuel filter and found it backed up even though it was less than a week old. Switching out the fuel filter we then disconnected the pump and cleaned it out, the idea being that since it was workable enough to transport me here it would provide me with a spare should I need one in a pinch.

Connecting the new pump and filter Jerry and I went over all of the basics of the fuel line, from pump to engine, in case something should happen down the road. Lowering the van down, Jerry took the time to show me how to set points in the distributor, change and locate all the filters, belts, and hoses and even went so far as to show me the hydraulic and brake operations - it seems that finding a mechanic who has a true appreciation and love for the vehicles he is working on is an unbelievable bonus. Perhaps the biggest bonus was learning that the Germans, in their infinite engineering prowess, purposefully geared the engine to rev high. I now know what the three sets of red dots on the speedometer are for - a target line for shifting, the van's higher revs optimizing gas mileage.

In awe of this man and his generosity I left Young's with a new fuel pump, an infinite amount of new knowledge and an appreciation of sharing. The van drives beautifully and I turned south onto 97, my van's compass finally aimed towards my first night of solitude.