Erin & Lucy
Model:
972 Super Beetle
Name:
She was originally yellow and named Daisy, then she got painted and needed a new persona. When I was fifteen, “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” was my die-hard Beatles song.
Color:
Pink and purple—chosen for me by some biker dudes.
Mileage:
43,000, and she has turned over once.
Motors:
It’s a stock engine, but it’s been rebuilt a handful of times.
Owned since:
2007—legally driving since 2011.
Owners:
I was told one of the previous owners used to tow a trailer with a lawn mower on it. He would throw his dog on the floorboard, strap the lawn mower to the back, drive over to the church and mow the lawn, and then pull the lawn mower back. The car was only driven on Sundays.
Location:
Texas
Favorite driving song:
“Whatever Blows Your Hair Back” by Hey Steve.
My grandmother taught me to drive stick when I was really little, out on the country farm roads. She was sitting next to me, my mom was in the back, and I kept popping the clutch. It would not go for anything. At some point, my grandma reaches her foot over the console and just slams down on my foot—the tires squeal, I scream, she screams, and we take off down the road. Once I figured out how to get it going in first gear, everything was good.
I’ve always wanted a Volkswagen, for as long as I can remember. I was paid for getting good grades, and I saved up any little bit that I could. We also sold some cattle. My aunt lives in Texas, and she told us, “There’s a little guy who is selling his Volkswagen.” I said, “Please, Mom—can we go?”
We were living in Colorado, so we drove down to Texas and we bought little Lucy. I was twelve, so I wasn’t old enough to drive it back. Lucy made it the whole way, a 1,200-mile trip, and about an hour from our house, the engine blew. Oil was coming out of everywhere. So she went to have a little restoration done.
She was originally yellow and named Daisy, then she got painted and needed a new persona. When I was fifteen, “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” was my die-hard Beatles song. She was this pale baby yellow, and I wanted her to be blue. A bunch of old biker dudes were painting the car for me, and they said, “No way. No little girl’s gonna run around here in an ugly blue Beetle. We’re not doing that. We will upgrade your paint job to a custom paint job, but we get to pick the colors.” They picked purple and pink. I got to pick the shades, but the two-tone was their idea. The Beetles usually have the two-tone down the middle, but they wanted something different. They also put my name across the back.
She was my daily driver all through high school and a little bit of college. I took her everywhere. I drove her through the mountains with a biker gang as well. They were on motorcycles, and I was struggling to keep up with them. They’re going through these mountain passes, and I’m just sitting there chugging along. I was probably seventeen years old then.
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I tent-camp out of her with my 150-pound dog. I’ll throw her in there with me, and we’ll just end up somewhere and set up camp. I have driven her through downtown Austin, downtown San Antonio, downtown Houston, downtown Dallas. She’s been to the beach. She has been in the mountains and in the fields in Colorado. When I was learning how to drive, I would just take her through pastures. Anywhere and everywhere.
My eighty-two-year-old grandma still drives antique cars and still fixes any car you put her in. She can fix just about everything with those old cars—she hears more noises than my grandpa does, and she’ll tell him what’s wrong with it. My mom fixes just about anything and everything too.
I do work on my car, and I’m getting more and more proficient with it. I can do the valve adjustments, I learned how to do the points the other day. I can do belts and oil changes, obviously, brake jobs, those sorts of things. My boyfriend’s also a Volkswagen guy, so he’s teaching me a whole lot more. They are the best beginner car if you want to be a mechanic. They are user-friendly, easy to start on, and they’re fun. It’s like driving around in a little go-cart.
I started working as a VW mechanic’s apprentice as a hobby. I did my first complete teardown and rebuild of a 1641 cc engine to go in a friend’s Double Cab. Learning all the ins and outs that only experienced engine builders know is hard, like lining up the piston rings, weighing out all the bearings, things like that. But getting it on the run stand for the first time and seeing it all come together and run due to all the hard work was worth it. I’m excited to deliver the engine back to El Paso in my boyfriend’s ’56 Panel Bus in May!
Volkswagens in general attract so many people who fall in love with them. You can show up at a Volkswagen event, and you’re instantly one of them. That whole community helps each other out. Here in Central Texas, we have a pretty good group of women, especially in San Antonio, but we have to fend for ourselves and fight for ourselves. Even though Lucy is pink and purple and I’m standing next to it, if there is a man sitting next to me, someone will ask him about my car before they ask me. We need more women behind the wheel, and we need to teach more women how to work on their own cars. They can be self-sufficient and feel good about getting out in their car and driving.
On a nice day, I love to roll the windows down. I start pumping some tunes, put the dog in the back—it is happiness. It doesn’t matter where I’m going. I could go to the grocery store two blocks up the road—it just puts me in a good mood no matter what. When I picture myself, it’s always with a little Beetle, never a new one. She’s my baby. I’m not selling that for nothing. That’s my car. I hope Lucy takes me everywhere for the rest of my life.
