don’t skip this

I’ve seen a lot of buggy builds come through and the front-end alignment is almost always the last thing people think about, or they skip it entirely. Then they wonder why their car darts all over the place, wanders at speed, or gets a shimmy going that scares the daylights out of them. Most of the time it comes right back to alignment. Let’s go through it.

Caster is the inclination of your kingpin or ball joints relative to each other. Top leaned back behind the bottom is positive caster, and that’s always what you want. It’s what makes your steering return to center after a turn and keeps things tracking straight down the road. Stock VW runs 3 to 3.5 degrees, which is perfectly fine for a standard Beetle at normal speeds. But you’re building a buggy, shortened wheelbase, driving faster, and that stock setting isn’t going to cut it. You want 5 to 6 degrees positive caster. Most quality buggy frames like Berrien already have 5 degrees built in, so you may be good to go right out of the gate.

To check it, make sure the car is on a level surface with all four tires on the ground and properly inflated. This matters more than people think. You need a straight edge about 12 inches long and a digital protractor or inclinometer. Place the straight edge vertically between the upper and lower tubes on the beam, zero your protractor, set it on the straight edge and read your degrees. Simple as that.

If you’re working with a shortened stock pan you’re probably sitting at 3 to 3.5 degrees and need to add some. Jack the front up under the frame head, not the beam, and loosen but don’t remove the four bolts holding the beam to the frame head. Slide your caster shims in between the lower tube and the frame head, snug everything back down and re-check. You’re shooting for at least 5 degrees, no more than 6. One more thing: it doesn’t matter if your frame is level, nose up or nose down. Caster is the relationship between the kingpins or ball joints and the road surface, not the frame.

Camber is how vertical your wheel sits when pointed straight ahead. Factory spec is zero degrees, perfectly straight up and down. A slight negative camber, around minus half a degree with the top of the wheel leaning inward, is acceptable and actually works well with wider modern tires. To measure it, place your straight edge vertically against the rim, the rim itself and not the tire sidewall, and put your protractor on that. Whatever it reads, that’s your camber.

How you adjust it depends on what front suspension you’re running. Ball joint front ends use an eccentric adjuster at the top ball joint. Look between the upper suspension arm and the spindle and you’ll see a large hex nut. Turning that moves the top of the wheel in or out until you hit your target. It’s pretty straightforward. Link pin and kingpin fronts are a different story. Camber is adjusted by moving shims on the link pins from one side to the other on the carrier, which means pulling the wheel and some brake components. It’s not terribly difficult but there are enough steps that you’ll want a VW service manual in hand before you dig in.

Toe is the relationship between the front and rear measurements across your tires. Stock spec is 1/8 inch toe in, meaning the fronts of your tires are 1/8 inch closer together than the rears, slightly pigeon-toed. On hard surfaces this keeps your tires tracking straight and true. Toe out does the opposite and will have your buggy wandering all over the road. You might hear guys running the desert or dirt ovals say they run toe out, and they’re probably telling the truth, but that’s for loose surfaces and has no business on your street buggy.

To measure, car sitting on the ground with all four corners down. Mark the center of the tread on each tire so you come back to the exact same spot every time. Take your measurements at the 9 o’clock position on the front of the tire and the 3 o’clock position on the rear, and use the same tape measure for everything. The total difference between the two measurements is your actual toe. For example, 50 1/16 inches at the rear and 49 15/16 at the front gives you exactly 1/8 inch toe in. If you prefer to use toe plates bolted to the wheel studs with tires removed, just make sure the suspension is loaded and that your measurement points are the same distance from the spindle center as the outside edge of your tire would be.

None of this is overly complicated. It takes a little time and patience to do it right, but at the end of the day you’ll have a buggy that actually drives the way it’s supposed to, and that makes all the difference.

– John Mickle

getting the basics right…

I’ve been around old Volkswagens and dune buggies long enough to tell you, once everything’s bolted up is when most folks get themselves into trouble.  I always take a minute and look things over.

You’ve got the calipers mounted and centered on the discs, lines run, and a new master cylinder and reservoir in place, that’s all fine. But none of it means much if the basics aren’t right – now its time to bleed the brakes.

First thing I check is the brake pedal free play. There needs to be about an eighth to a quarter inch between the push rod and the master cylinder plunger. I don’t guess at it, I make sure. If that plunger can’t come all the way back, the master cylinder won’t refill properly from the reservoir. I’ve seen perfectly good brake systems act faulty just because that adjustment was off.

Then I look at the calipers. The pads should already be sitting against the discs on both sides, and the pistons should be up against the pads. If they’re not, you’re wasting time trying to bleed air out of a system that isn’t even positioned correctly yet. If I need to move the pistons in, I’ll usually disconnect the hose at the caliper and use a little shop air to bring them in. Quick and effective.

Once I know everything is where it should be, I fill the reservoir — but only with fresh brake fluid from a sealed container. Brake fluid doesn’t tolerate being left open. It pulls moisture out of the air, and moisture is what ruins brake systems from the inside out. I don’t take chances there.

Before I get into any pressure bleeding, I like to let gravity do some of the work. If the setup allows it, I’ll open all four bleeders and let fluid start working its way through the system on its own. Catch cans under each wheel, of course. Once I see fluid at each corner, I close them up. That step alone saves time and makes the rest of the job smoother.

From there, I bleed the system. I’ve used every method over the years —manual two-person bleeding, vacuum pumps, pressure systems, even reverse bleeding setups. They all work if they’re used properly. The method matters less than the consistency.

What does matter is the order. I always start with the wheel furthest from the master cylinder—right rear, then left rear, right front, and finally left front. That’s not a suggestion, that’s just how it’s done if you want all the air out.

If I’m doing it manually, I make sure the pedal is worked slowly and allowed to return fully every time. When pressure builds, I open the bleeder, let the pedal drop, then close it before the pedal comes back up. No shortcuts. Rushing that step just puts air right back into the system.

When I get a firm pedal, I don’t assume I’m done. I top off the reservoir, then take the car out and use the brakes enough to seat the pads. After that, it comes back into the shop for another look. I check fluid level again, and I look carefully for any signs of seepage. Even a small leak will show itself at this stage.

Most of the time, I’ll do a quick final bleed at each wheel just to confirm there’s no air left — just clean fluid.

Bleeding brakes isn’t complicated, but it does require patience and attention to detail. I’ve always treated it as one of those jobs where you either do it right the first time, or you end up doing it twice. When it’s done properly, you’ll feel it immediately — a solid pedal, consistent response, and a car that stops exactly when it should. That’s the standard I’ve always worked to.

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Alright now, the brakes are bled, the pedal feels good and firm, and you’ve checked over everything with no leaks showing up. You’re close—but don’t hang the tools up just yet. There’s one more step, and it’s an important one: bedding the brakes.

Old timers like me call it “burnishing.” Same thing. What you’re doing is using a little heat and rotor rotation to transfer a thin layer of brake pad material onto the rotor surface. That helps the pads and rotors get acquainted proper-like. It improves braking performance, helps the pads last longer, and keeps those embarrassing squeals and screeches to a minimum.

It’s simple enough, but it takes a little patience.

The best method is what we call the 30/30/30 method:

• 30 slow-downs
• From 30 mph down to about 10 mph
• With about 30 seconds of easy driving between each one so the pads can cool

Notice I said slow-downs, not full stops. Don’t come to a complete stop. You want that rotor still turning so the pad material lays down nice and even. Sitting still with hot pads pressed against the rotor can leave uneven spots, and that’ll cause chatter later.

There’s also the quicker method, the 10/65/30 method:

• 10 slow-downs
• From 65 mph down to 10 mph
• With 30 seconds of cool-down driving between each one

It works fine and gets the job done faster, but finding a safe place to do that can be a challenge. Around here, slowing from 65 to 10 on the wrong road might get you introduced to the front bumper of a dump truck—and trust me, that’s not part of the brake procedure.

A lot of folks skip this step because the brakes feel “good enough” after a quick driveway test. Don’t be that guy.

Take the extra time. Bed them in right.

That way, you won’t be the fellow at the cruise-in with the nice buggy and the screechy brakes everyone hears before they see you.

– John Mickle

the one that got away 🙂

I ended Part 1 by saying that, in many cases, a complete rewiring simply makes more sense—and if you’re paying a shop to sort out a compromised system, it can often be the less expensive route in the long run. With today’s aftermarket harnesses, the process is far more straightforward than it used to be. With some planning and a methodical approach, there’s no reason you can’t produce a clean, reliable result.

Before starting, make sure you have the right tools and materials on hand: wire cutting pliers, a proper wire stripping tool, quality crimping pliers, a heat gun or butane torch, heat-shrink butt connectors, heat-shrink tubing, eyelet terminals, a supply of 10-gauge black wire, dielectric grease, wire ties, and basic hardware like 1/4-inch bolts, lock nuts, and flat washers. Having the correct tools is not optional—poor connections are the root of most electrical failures.

For harnesses, I’ve worked with several over the years, and I consistently come back to Rebel Wire. Their VW Bug and VW Bug Deluxe kits are both well thought out and user-friendly, particularly for buggy and kit car applications.

When it comes to mounting the fuse block, I prefer placing it high on the passenger-side firewall. The exact location is flexible, but accessibility matters. At some point, you—or someone else—will need to service it, and convenience counts.

Now, the most critical aspect of the entire job—and the area where I see the most consistent mistakes—is grounding.

A fiberglass-bodied vehicle does not provide a natural ground path. Every electrical component—lights, gauges, accessories—must have its own dedicated ground path to the steel frame. The battery must be grounded to the frame, and the engine must also be grounded to the frame. These are not optional steps.

Grounds should never be daisy-chained from one component to another. Each ground should be intentional and direct. Wherever you attach a ground to the frame, remove any paint or powder coating down to bare metal to ensure proper contact. Once secured, protect the connection with dielectric grease to prevent corrosion.

If necessary, use buss bars or dedicated ground studs to keep things organized—but do not take shortcuts. A poor ground will create problems that are difficult to trace and even harder to diagnose.

As you begin wiring, work one circuit at a time. I keep a 12-volt battery nearby along with a pair of jumper wires fitted with alligator clips. As each circuit is completed, I test it immediately. This confirms proper operation before moving on and prevents compounding mistakes. Always establish the ground connection first before applying power.

Routing is equally important. Plan where the wires will run before securing them. Once everything is verified, bundle the wiring cleanly and protect it with split loom. A well-routed harness not only looks professional—it prevents future wear and failure.

At the end of the day, wiring can either elevate a build or undermine it entirely. But if you approach it with patience and a structured process, there’s no reason it can’t be done correctly.

And when it is done right, everything works the way it should—no surprises, no crossed circuits, and no situations where turning on the radio makes the left front turn signal blink.

– John Mickle

the one that got away 🙂

I’ve been around race cars and shop floors long enough to know that some mistakes never quite leave you.

My first car – this would’ve been the early 1960s – I was about 14 years old, was a 1955 MG TF with a 327 Chevy engine fitted into it. It was raw, overpowered, and completely impractical… which is exactly why I loved it. To this day, it’s still the car I measure all others against.

At some point I decided it deserved a proper paint job. So I started disassembling it—methodically at first—until I got to the fenders and the lighting. That’s where experience—or the lack of it—caught up with me.

I cut the wires. No labels. No notes. No diagram. Just assumed I’d remember how it all went back together.

But I didn’t remember…..

What followed was frustration, second-guessing, and eventually walking away from the project altogether. I ended up trading that car for a 1956 Buick Roadmaster convertible, which was a fine automobile in its own right—but it wasn’t that MG. And even now, decades later, I still regret not finishing what I started.

After years of building and maintaining sprint cars and specialty vehicles, I can tell you with confidence: wiring is one of the most common reasons good projects stall out. Not because it’s impossible – but because it demands patience, discipline, and attention to detail in a way that mechanical work often doesn’t.

When I’m dealing with a car that’s already wired but poorly organized, I approach it the same way every time.

First, I stop and assess. There’s always a tendency to start pulling things apart immediately—that’s a mistake. You need to understand what you’re looking at before you change anything. Even bad wiring has a pattern to it.

Next, I look for obvious weaknesses. Loose connections, poor crimps, corrosion—these are often the root cause of larger issues. One compromised connection can create symptoms that look far more serious than they are.

Grounding is critical, especially in fiberglass-bodied cars. Unlike steel-bodied vehicles, you don’t have a natural return path through the chassis. Every ground must be deliberate, clean, and secure. If it isn’t, you’ll spend hours chasing intermittent faults.

From there, documentation becomes essential. Every wire that’s disconnected gets identified. Every wire that’s cut gets labeled on both ends. A simple method is to use masking tape flags with matching numbers—quick, effective, and reliable.

I also make a basic diagram as I go. It doesn’t need to be formal—just clear enough that I can retrace my steps later without relying on memory.

Because ultimately, electrical work comes down to time and patience. There’s no shortcut for either. And when you factor in labor, there are times—especially in a professional shop—where it’s more practical to remove a compromised wiring system entirely and install a new one.

That approach isn’t about taking the easy way out. It’s about recognizing when starting over is the most efficient and reliable path forward.

We’ll get into that in more detail in part two.

– John Mickle

a Hard Riding Buggy

“I’M SHOCKED AT HOW HARD THIS BUGGY RIDES !”

if I had a nickel for every time I heard that roll into the shop, I’d have a fresh set of whitewalls on every car in the lot.

You know how the story goes. You finally button up that dune buggy you started way back when the world was spinning a little slower and gas was cheap. Every nut and bolt is just right – fresh bushings, new bearings, clean seals. Sharp wheels, brand-new rubber, and a set of shiny gas shocks that looked like they came straight off a race car.

Then you take her out for that first cruise… and wham! Feels like you’re bouncing down a country road in a wooden buckboard wagon.

Now don’t go blaming the build… the answer’s simple, and it’s right there in the numbers. That old Volkswagen Beetle you started with tipped the scales around 1,850 pounds. Your stripped-down buggy? Closer to 1,300. That’s a whole lot less weight pushing down on the suspension—nearly a third lighter, and that changes the whole ride.

See, those gas shocks you bolted on? They’re fine for a full-bodied Beetle, but on a lightweight buggy they ride stiff as a brick. First trick I tell folks: swap ’em out for a good set of old-school oil-filled shocks. Nothing fancy—just honest hardware that lets the suspension breathe a little. Heck, some of the smoothest rides I’ve seen came from a decent set of used shocks with a little life left in ’em.

Next thing…. your tires. Air ’em down a touch or a lot 🙂

You don’t need to be running sky-high pressure on a featherweight machine like this. For street cruising, try about 10 pounds up front and 15 in the rear if you’re rolling on 70 or 75 series tires. Got those lower-profile 60s? Run them at 18 to 22 at most, but keep ’em no lower than 18 all the way around – they’ve got shorter sidewalls and don’t flex the same way.

Now between softer shocks and dialing in your tire pressure, you’ll feel a night-and-day difference. Smooth, easy, like a Sunday drive instead of a rodeo.

Sure, if you really want to get fancy, you can start reworking torsion leaves or adding adjusters, but that’s getting into deep wrench territory. Most folks don’t need all that.

Start simple. Let the car work with you, not against you. And before long, that buggy’s gonna ride the way it was meant to… cool, comfortable, and cruisin’ just right.

– John Mickle