In the summer of 2002, when the wind noise through the gaping rust holes in my 1988 Toyota Camry became annoying, I started looking around for a replacement. I basically needed a car for commuting a few days a week, but if I purchased something big enough, then whatever I bought could become the family car, and I could commute with the Ford Focus wagon we'd bought a few years earlier. So I had options. Searching through Auto Trader online one night, out of the blue, I did a search for the Volkswagen Vanagon, having always liked the way they looked (they had hippie-cred, after all, being sort-of associated with the Greatful Dead, and also Arlo Guthrie, who drove the rounder type 2 in the movie "Alice's Restaurant") (and having driven one exactly one time, a handicap conversion model modified to accept a chair lift). Bingo. There it was, the car of my dreams. A handsome looking 1986 model, available for viewing only 30 minutes away from where I work.

Long story short, I bought the van, and drove it home proudly.

A wee bit of history and description

The Vanagon was Volkswagen's third attempt to create a people-mover/tradesman's vehicle, and a direct descendant of the air cooled minibus. The Vanagon has a water cooled (Wasserboxer) horizontally opposed 4 cylinder 2.1 litre engine. The engine is mounted in the rear of the vehicle, and drives the rear wheels. The transmission sits in front of the engine, allowing both to sit rather low. The whole engine works is accessible by opening a hatch in the "trunk" area. What this essentially all means is that there's a tremendous amount of space in the Vanagon. Aside from a roomy trunk area, there's enough space for three rows of seating. The back row will fit three comfortably. The middle row will fit two comfortably, and there are two bucket seats up front, slightly elevated on a little platform. The driver and front passenger sit on top of the front wheels, and there's virtually no "nose" to the vehicle. All there is in front of the driver is a heavily reinforced front bumper, and a radiator cooling off the engine. Strangeness abounds. The battery sits underneath the front-most passenger. The access cap for the windshield washer reservoir is underneath the carpet by the driver's foot. Some key hoses for the coolant are made out of plastic, and notoriously brittle in cold weather. The head gasket has a habit of developing terminal leaks, but this design flaw was never fixed during the production run of the Vanagon.

Certainly, the Vanagon could have been a delightful car, a worthy addition to our family fleet.

But it was not to be.

My experiences with the Vanagon

The following pieces of the vanagon needed extensive fixing or replacing during my ownership of same:

- The muffler
- An expensive bit of pipe between the muffler and the tail pipe tip.
- Transmission seals (I had the automatic transmission, which apparently was more reliable and durable than the manual transmission)
- The starter motor (oath-filled essays could be written about this) required new brushes and armature (sp?)
- The CV boots
- The front wheel bearing
- The front brake caliper seized, and had to be rebuilt.
- The oil pressure switch.
- The rear gas shocks that hold up the rear hatch.
- The ignition switch
- The water pump

I think you get the picture. After each major expenditure I hoped in vain that "this would be it", that the car had tested me, and I had not been found wanting. I had this theory, you see, from owning a Honda Civic Wagon. The theory goes that whenever you buy a used car, that car tests your commitment, your willingness to stick it out, by having a bunch of stuff break down. Expensive stuff. If you could stick it out, and cheerfully pay for that stuff, then the car would reward you with perhaps a year or two of relative calm. With the Vanagon, there was no relative calm. The whole process of breaking down was occurring so fast there was no breathing room, no chance to enjoy the obvious rewards of the short wheelbase, tall interior, and relatively even weight distribution.

I was having serious reservations about the Vanagon even before it tried to kill us.

The Fire

Driving home after visiting friends one snowy evening a few months back, we noticed some odd electrical activity in the Vanagon. Odd, like the headlights wouldn't come on unless I flicked the passing lights, or odd, like the wipers and rear heater wouldn't work. That kind of odd. But after driving for a bit, everything seemed to be working again, so we continued home. About 5 minutes before we got home, everything electrical flickered on and off a few times, which worried me, but we were almost home, a snowstorm was in full bluster, and I was ready to throw the Vanagon in a ditch anyway, so we drove on. Parked in the driveway, I tried to turn the car off, but the key wouldn't turn off. Every time I shifted gears, a little spark would jump in the gear shift area. My wife got the kids out of the car while I pulled fuses for all I was worth, trying to kill the power to the engine, until it died by itself. Everyone was safely in the house when I saw a little fire start in the engine area, reflected off the fresh snow underneath the car. I grabbed the fire extinguisher, and put it out (not without a moment's hesitation about whether I really wanted to put the fire out, but it was too close to our power line for safety). The fire was almost directly under my son's car seat.

I resolved, right then, that I would get rid of the Vanagon.

And I did. For an evening, I thought about trading it in on a 1992 Eurovan, until I saw that the Eurovan shared one characteristic with the Vanagon that killed that idea: gas mileage.

I should tell you that your experience with the Vanagon might be better than mine. There are loads of people who are happy with their Vanagons. These people are usually wonderful and generous (I spoke with one (thanks David!) for about 45 minutes the night after the car fire, and he gave me all sorts of suggestions as to the causes and the likely fix for the fire), hooked on the benefits of the Vanagon, and willing to put up with or struggle through the bad times. There's a cult built up around the Volkswagen buses, and I think I was attracted to that, as well as the quirky bits of engineering, and the massive amounts of space. The Vanagon would be a lovely vehicle, if it was reliable. I had the pleasure of driving into Algonquin Park to a remote cabin in the northern end of the park with two co-workers, and thoroughly enjoyed all the good stuff inherent in the Vanagon's design. The problem is that it's not reliable, and parts are either hard to find or very expensive, or both. If you rely on this vehicle for daily transport, as I did, you will be stranded at home, or renting cars while yours is being fixed. You'll get to know the Chevy Cavalier quite well, as it seems to be a fixture of most rental car companies (fine car, by the way, but a bit buzzy).

Also, and not to be belittled, is the massive amounts of fuel that the Vanagon needs, on a daily basis. This 2.1 litre engine uses twice the fuel that my Focus station wagon uses. That's 14 to 16 litres per 100 km. Or about 15 to 17 miles per gallon. That's really pitiful.

I can really only recommend the Vanagon if you buy one of those reconditioned vans available through some of the VW aftermarket dealers, like gowesty.com. Otherwise, buyer beware!
Amount Paid (US$): 3000
Condition: Used
Model Year: 1986
Model and Options: Automatic