In the summer of 2021, I got a tip from a friend about an old Beetle sitting in a barn just outside Sacramento. The owner had passed away, and the family was cleaning out the property. I drove out there with low expectations—most barn finds turn out to be basket cases.
But this one was different. Under a thick layer of dust sat a 1968 Standard Beetle in original L87 Pearl White. The paint was faded and the interior was shot, but the body was remarkably solid. No rust in the heater channels, minimal floor pan damage, and the original engine was still in place.
The Plan
I knew from the start I didn't want a perfect restoration. This car had character—the kind you can't fake. My goal was simple: get it running, make it safe, and keep as much originality as possible.
The engine needed a complete rebuild. The fuel system was toast. The brakes were seized. But mechanically, it was all there. Over the next three years, I worked on it every weekend, learning as I went.
What I Learned
These cars were designed to be repaired. Every bolt is accessible. Every system is logical. There's no computer, no proprietary software—just honest engineering.
The community was incredible. Forums, local clubs, swap meets—everyone was willing to help. I traded parts, got advice, and made friendships that went beyond the car.
Today
She's not perfect. The paint still has patina. The interior is a mix of original and period-correct replacements. But she starts every time, drives beautifully, and turns heads wherever I go.
This isn't just a car to me. It's a connection to a time when things were built to last, when a person could understand and fix their own vehicle. That's worth more than any show trophy.
“These cars were designed to be repaired. Every bolt is accessible. Every system is logical. There's no computer, no proprietary software—just honest engineering.”