Classic Story – I Fought The Law And The Law Won.

Being a poor car guy can be very frustrating. I spent a lifetime dreaming about cars that I could not afford, and chances are I never will. Perhaps, writing about those machines helps to cope with the frustration.

Instead of owning memorable cars, what I have are some memorable moments driving ordinary cars.

In a long list of clunkers and uninspiring cars I have owned throughout the years, there are a couple that will always have a special place in my heart, one of them is a 1969 VW Beetle.

Unfortunately, I lost all the pictures I took of that car and what you see here are pics of Beetles that resemble the one I had.

This story starts on a Friday afternoon, the year was 1988, I was 18 years old and had recently joined the Brazilian Air Force. That day I was very happy indeed, the Base commander gave the afternoon off for all nonessential personnel and I, with two of my friends, were going home riding a car instead of taking the bus, like most of the other guys from my platoon.

That Beetle was my pride and joy, I had installed a set of 13-inch, magnesium rims, wrapped with some second-hand radial tires. That alone considerably lowered the car, but not happy with that, I altered the front suspension, really slamming the poor Beetle to the ground. The engine was the original 1300cc but the exhaust was pretty loud. The color was Beige Claro, code L-1075, factory original.

According to Brazilian traffic laws, owners are not allowed to modify the stock suspension of any automobile and also is not permitted to alter the final diameter of the wheel-tire assembly. I knew I was riding an outlaw car and the police could, at any time, impound it.

Ok, back to that promising Friday, when we were proud to be wearing the Air Force uniforms and so happy that our weekend started a bit sooner. As you can figure by now, my day was just about to turn sour.

Just a little bit before hitting downtown, we ran into a police checkpoint, and to make things worse, they were the traffic police. With the regular police, you even have a chance to fool them about a car like mine or even bribe them, but not with these guys, they do not take bribes and they know their stuff.

When the officer saw my Beetle approaching, he immediately signed to stop. He came to the car, put his two hands on the front fender, and tried to push it down. The suspension didn’t move an inch.

Officer – “Locked suspension?“

Me – “Yes”.

Officer – “OK guys, get out of the car, and bring the keys and documents”.

I looked at my friends and said: – “Shit, they will take the Beetle”.

Jean Claude, one of my friends said: “Tell the guy we need the car, tell him we are scheduled for armed service tomorrow morning, I don’t know, just lie to him”.

Yes, this is my best shot, I thought. I called the officer: “Look officer, we are scheduled to be back to the base at 7 o’clock tomorrow morning, and we need the car. Can you let us go? Come on, as a favor from one soldier to another”.

Officer: “Why don’t you guys take the bus? You know what? I don’t call the shots anyway “. “Hey Sarge, these fly boys here wanna talk to you”.

And here comes the Sarge, with an angry face that only sergeants can make: – “What seems to be the problem”?

Then I started to tell him my sad (and fraudulent) story. When I finished he looked at me and with the kind of wisdom that only sergeants can have he said: “Let’s cut the crap, I have more important things to take care of”. “I will give you a 24-hour permit, which means you have 24 hours to get your Beetle back to the original standards”. “And remember, this is my area, if I catch you again driving a car like this I will impound the car, and you too. Then I will call your sergeant to come and get you out of jail”. “Am I being clear, private”?

Me: “Yes Sir.”

The first thing my dad and I got done on Saturday morning was unlock the front suspension, which was, by the way, pretty easy. Then I spent the rest of my weekend hunting for a set of 15-inch rims and a decent used tires. Thankfully that 24-hour permit meant 24-business hours so, I had just enough time to get the car ready for the inspection.

I had totally forgotten how comfortable my Beetle was before the modifications. With a properly working front suspension and soft bias ply tires, the car was ridding like a Cadillac (a little exaggeration here…). On my way to the police HQ, on Monday morning, I was seriously considering leaving the car in the way VW intended it to be.

Upon my arrival at the HQ, a corporal, sitting at the reception greeted me: “Hello, what can I do for you”?

Me: “I brought my car for an inspection”.

Corporal: “That is easy, I will inspect the car myself”.

Then he looked around, trying to find someone who could replace him at the reception. He didn’t find anyone, then he grabbed a pen, signed my papers, gave one copy to me and said: “You are good to go”.

Me: “Aren’t you going to see the car”?

Corporal: “Nah. I trust you”. “Besides, I don’t think you would show up here with an irregular car”. “Have a nice day”.

Have I learned my lesson? Nope. Ten years later I ran into another police checkpoint, driving a lowered VW Gol (not Golf). This time it wasn’t the transit police.

Officer: “License and registration”. “Your Gol is lowered, isn’t it”?

Me: “Just a little bit, officer”.

Officer: “That is wrong, my friend”. “Although it would be a shame to take such a nice car to the HQ”. “Here are your docs, get out of here. “Go, go”.

He and his fellow officers were holding assault rifles, perhaps they were after something more menacing to the society than lowered cars.

If memory serves me well, that VW Gol was my last modified car, I never tried again to make a boring car look cool. That means it was my last brawl with the law.