There is a faint and pleasant chirping noise to a well-tuned Volkswagen air-cooled engine. A well cared for Bug that is over half-a-century old is perfectly capable of running as though it rolled off the factory floor in Wolfsburg, Germany just yesterday. It takes work, patience and a certain level of devotion to keep an old car running that well. But the VW’s pared down and simple 36 horsepower engines are so approachable that even novice mechanics can get some grease under their fingernails and get one up and running again.

Defined as any Volkswagen engine that uses air to cool it rather than the more modern and popular water cooling radiator system, the Volkswagen engines of the 1940s through 1970s are some of the simplest and most mechanically approachable engines ever made. On top of that, because virtually the same engine was used in almost every model from the famous beetle and the bus, to the sporty Karmann Ghia and the boxy thing, the engines are as abundant as the people who love them.

In Provo there is a group of die-hard VW drivers called the Wasatch Vintage Volkswagens Club that gathers the second Wednesday of every month to show off their restorations of the classic cars and go for a ride together. Even on frigid January nights they fire up their automobiles and drive together without heat, because these cars simply didn't come with heat fans like modern cars.

Carlos Ramirez is an Orem body shop owner who drives around all year in an impressive replica of the famous beetle from the "Herbie" movies. Ramirez's version of souped-up speed demon Bug was salvaged from a wreck and has been outfitted with a custom engine and transmission that makes it faster than many modern VW models.

"I got it for $300 with a smashed front from an auction in Ogden," explains Ramirez. "It was white in color already so I though I should put some Herbie stickers on it. It puts a lot of smiles on people. They see it and think of the movie."

Ramirez is not a mechanic; he does strictly body work on damaged cars and restoration of classics. Most of the classics that come through his shop are old VWs that friends of his need fixed or that he is restoring to sell later. On any given day, there are at least 10 classic Volkswagens in various states of disrepair parked in or around his shop.

"My first car wasn't actually a Volkswagen," Ramirez said. "But after I got one and I decided to restore it, I went to the extreme to paint it piece by piece, one fender or a door. I took the whole thing apart because I wanted a really nice Bug."

When the job was done and the car was perfect, Ramirez realized that what he really loved was the process of restoring the car, not the final product. So he decided to sell it and use the proceeds to start a new project. He expected to get $6,500 for the fully restored beetle, but was underestimating how much people were willing to pay for a mint-condition classic VW.

"The first guy to see the car offered me $11,000 for it without even driving it."

Ramirez loves the simple and utilitarian engine of the old cars saying, "It is the most simple vehicle that I have ever worked on. Without having extreme knowledge of mechanics you could take one apart and put it back together and it will still run." But what he really fell in love with was the style and look they have. The funky shape, the oval headlights and the classic rag-tops are what really do it for Ramirez.

"The look of these cars isn't intended to be fast. They are interesting enough to be driven slow so people have the time to turn around and look at it," Ramirez said.

Dave Gilchrist owns a mechanic shop in Orem called Vintage German Motors that works exclusively on classic VW's.

"All I do are air-cooled Volkswagens! I don't do anything that is water cooled," Gilchrist said. "No Rabbits or Jettas or Passats. Just air-cooled Bugs and buses."

The entry into the world of Volkswagen mechanics for Gilchrist was a little more by force than by fascination, but the end result was fulfilling enough to wrap his life around it.

"My wife bought one just before we got married so I got stuck fixing it and it kind of went down hill from there," Gilchrist said. "I had to learn how to fix that one, and from there I started fixing them for friends and strangers. Eventually I started doing this full time."

Gilchrist's wife still drives an old Volkswagen. Of his seven children, the three that are still at home drive vintage VWs as well. In their house they always have at least as many Volkswagens as they do people. His other children have left the safety net of having a mechanic for a dad at home. And in moving away they were forced to buy more modern cars, yet most of them stuck to the Volkswagen family tradition.

"One of my children drives a Volkswagen Jetta and I have another son who recently bought a new Jetta," Gilchrist said. "I have another son that drives a Saturn -- that was kind of a break but he married into it so it is cool."

Even if Gilchrist was pushed into the life of a vintage Volkswagen mechanic by his wife's impulse to own one, he doesn't regret his choice to turn it into a profession. He has a steady stream of customers coming through his Orem shop with at least one car a day needing work. His customers (many from the Wasatch Vintage Volkswagens Club) call him a miracle worker. But for Gilchrist it is just another opportunity to work on the cars he loves and knows inside and out.

"Anybody could fix them but many people don't want to, so I get to do it for them."

Martin Schetselaar runs the newsletter and Web site of the Wasatch Vintage Volkswagens Club and is as close to the club's leader as they currently have. Schetselaar owns two air-cooled VWs: a 1965 bus converted into a camper and a 1959 single-cab pickup style that looks like a classic Volkswagen bus in the front with a pickup truck style bed in the back.

"I hate new cars," Schetselaar said is his reason for driving old Volkswagens. "They all seem puffy. The inside of a new car to me looks like someone who has been throwing rocks at a bee's nest. Swollen. I don't think there is a car on the road that is worth $20,000. I got my car for $2,000 and people still stare at it and tell me that it is cool."

Schetselaar may be extreme and his transportation is certainly unique, but it works for him. He gets around Provo in a 50-year-old truck with a half-sized engine and plans to keep it going as long as possible.

"You buy a new car and try to convince me it will still be on the road 50 years from now," Schetselaar said. "My truck is 50 this year and I guarantee you that if there is still gas in 50 years, my truck will still be running."

Schetselaar is not alone in his crusade of fahrvergnügen (driving pleasure). There are typically anywhere from 10 to 20 air-cooled Volkswagens at the club meetings. And as long as there are people around the world who love their cars, there will be people like Gilchrist and Ramirez who keep them running and looking great decades from now.