Sunday saw a massive Beetle invasion in Jefferson County’s Clement Park, mercifully of the sort that revved the heart rates of Volkswagen fans, not the frayed nerves of forestry officials.
About 400 vintage Volkswagens were on display, from Beetles to Karmann Ghias to Microbuses.
But the original Beetles — the beloved Bugs no longer manufactured anywhere — were the stars.
Fans crawled all over the cars, photographing the engines and purring over the interiors. “Oh, this is a great specimen,” one crowed, sounding like some sort of vehicular paleontologist turned loose in a rich fossil field.
Despite America’s penchant for muscular Detroit iron, drivers swooned over Germany’s Bug when it landed on these shores after World War II. Boasting a stubby body and a glorified lawn-mower engine, it became the greatest frog prince in automotive history.
Six decades later, vintage VWs enjoy a cult following.
“It’s like you’re in a family the minute you drive one,” said Joey Lamare, owner of Joe’s Cool Cars in Denver. “Other VW drivers wave at you. You can’t meet anyone who didn’t own one, have a friend who owned one or learned to drive a stick shift on one.”
Lamare’s own 1963 Beetle was a showstopper. Painted gulf blue, it featured a nifty roof rack, rear fender skirts and something I hadn’t seen in years: an evaporative cooler mounted atop the passenger window. Made out of galvanized metal, it looked like a howitzer or a jet engine, take your pick. Load it with water, and the air intake delivers a breeze, albeit one that might leave frost on your passenger’s right ear.
Beetles always were quirky.
Retired minister Dave Miller came upon his 1964 Bug as if by miracle. “I bought it off a farmer,” he said. “It was just sitting out in a field. It looked awful.”
But Miller had faith. Beautifully restored and glowing with an aqua paint job, the car was one of the show’s beauties.
“I’m just having a picnic with it,” Miller said. “And I’m laughing all the way to the bank. They’re cheap, easy to work on, and they have these little idiosyncracies you get used to.”
The rally was an exercise in automotive self-expression. Some Bugs looked straight from the showroom. Many were modified into dune buggies and racers, others converted into low-riders and street rods with DayGlo paint.
“One thing about the VW is that everyone has a vision of what it could look like,” said Jeff Price of Volkswagen Enthusiasts of Colorado, which mounted the rally. “People like to personalize it.”
Price is a purist, with a mint 1957 Bug. The car was as old as me but in far better shape: jet black with lovingly restored maroon upholstery, a juiced engine with dual carburetors and the trademark 6-volt battery.
Mark Cherven is on his third Beetle, a tan 1970 model that he bought when it was a literal shell of itself. Cherven tricked it out, packing the trunk with a gut-rumbling stereo system. “It was 1,200 watts until yesterday, when I blew out an amp,” he said.
At 47, Cherven’s VW story was a familiar one. “When I was 16 years old, my dad handed me a Bug with a blown engine. He said, ‘Fix it, and that’s your ride.’ ”
Cherven did. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
“I just love these cars,” he said.
The Bug had caught him.
William Porter’s column runs Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Reach him at 303-954-1977 or wporter@denverpost.com.
