HANG TIME
The Ageless Bruce Meyers is Still Flying High with a New Version of an Old Favorite—the Manxter
By Steve Temple
PHOTOS BY STEVE TEMPLE
If we were to name the most influential figures in the growth of sand sports, Bruce Meyers would likely be on the short list, if not at the very top. After all, no self-respecting sand enthusiast could claim to be “in the know” without acknowledging the influence of Bruce Meyers’ and his ever-popular Manx.
The Meyers Manx is arguably one of the most significant vehicles of the last century. It’s far more than just a VW-based sandrail; it’s iconic, a cultural waypoint of the Sixties that captures the feel and look of a generation, a vehicular version of Beatles music and Peter Max art.
Following the familiar line about imitation and flattery, this fun-and-friendly dune buggy is probably the most copied car in history. Since the vehicle’s creation back in the early Sixties, literally hundreds of companies have tried to imitate its simple, carefree lines. Among all these Johnny-come-latelys, though, who’s your Mac daddy? Bruce Meyers, of course.
Not only that, the Manx set numerous benchmarks in off-road racing. A pair of Meyers Manx’s won 39 out of 41 slalom races, and a Manx also took home the class trophy in the Pike’s Peak Hill Climb, beating Corvettes, Cobras, and most open-wheel sprint cars!
Note that the roots of off-road racing were the old motorcycle elapsed-time records. The very first Meyers Manx, “Old Red” (driven by Bruce and Ted Mangels, and shown here with Bruce manning the wheel), beat these bikes by over five hours, culminating in the first Baja off-road races. Meyers Manx’s came in first overall and second in their class in the first official race, the Mexican 1000 - 1967. This amazing feat sparked the off-road revolution and clearly helped to inspire the Score’s Baja 1,000 off-road race.
Let’s take a brief look back at the origins of the car, and also how he’s now brought it forward, making it more relevant than ever for sand sports. After a stint in the fledgling fiberglass boat business, it was in 1963 at Pismo Beach, California that Bruce first became acquainted with dune buggies. Meyers and a few friends were mired in the sand in a chopped-down, V8-powered Plymouth sedan. He spotted a Beetle floorpan with no body, just an engine, seat and rollbar, effortlessly whipping all over the beach with hardly a care.
“What if that rig had a sleek, lightweight fiberglass body?” Meyers mused. It would be far more comfortable and still just as capable in the dirt and sand. So Bruce took it upon himself to design a lightweight version by modifying a VW Kombi bus with wide rims (called “Little Red Riding Bus”). He later drew on his expertise in boatbuilding to design the first fiberglass-bodied dune buggy, the Meyers Manx.
The first dozen vehicles had a steel-reinforced, monocoque fiberglass body with VW running gear. This early design proved to be comparatively expensive, so Bruce redesigned the body to fit on a shortened VW floorpan, which ultimately reduced the price as well. The combination was lightning in a bottle, and the Meyers Manx took off, being featured on the covers of numerous national car magazines.
That’s hardly a surprise to Meyers, because as he points out, “When you create something with an original thought, and grace, and a sense of balance in its form and function, it’s timeless.”
The ensuing flood of orders overwhelmed the small company’s production capacity, and other manufacturers sprang up overnight to produce copies of varying degrees of quality. Bruce tried to stop the imitations through patent infringement laws, but to no avail. In subsequent years, B.F. Meyers & Co. built 5,280 Manx kits, several hundred Manx 2s, about 1,000 Meyers Tow’ds, a couple of hundred Manx SR’s, and 75 Resorters—a total of nearly 7,000 vehicles.
The legacy of the Manx and all its variants continues today. In recent years Bruce Meyers has revisited his early success with a revamped version. Now in his eighties, at an age when most folks would be content to sit on the porch in a rocking chair, Meyers’ fertile imagination has spawned a neo/retro variant of the Manx, called the Manxter. Instead of using a shortened VW pan, it has a full-length Beetle chassis, allowing for four seats instead of two, and creating a more contemporary, flowing form. (The sidepods are optional, and also serve a functional purpose in some instances, depending on the engine choice.) More significant, the ever-popular air-cooled VW Type 1 engine is not the only engine choice. On the Manxter S model, a modern, water-cooled, turbocharged Subaru EJ25 engine hangs off the back end.
The Manxter takes the Manx to a new level of performance, using modern mechanicals, such as the optional long-arm off-road suspension (on the DualSport). And whatever engine you prefer, just do the math—a 250 horsepower engine stuffed into an 1825-pound car. That’s the power-to-weight ratio of a Dodge Viper, but for a pittance of the price.
Meyers offers the Manxter as a kit, with the base model starting at less than $5600. The next step up, for $7700, includes polished stainless bumpers, a hardtop and gelcoat color. Nearly all still use the venerable VW Type 1, but increasing numbers of sand enthusiasts are looking to the Subaru-powered platform.
Meyers teamed up with Mendeola, a company well known for its transaxles for sand-rails and other off-road vehicles (and more recently a new street unit for mid-engine exotics). The company’s large factory in San Diego builds a variety of turnkey versions, either VW or Subaru powered.
The Manxter comes in several models: the R, RS, S, and DualSport. The R and RS use the air-cooled engine (with the RS including non-vented sidepods). The S has the Subaru engine with the necessary vented sidepods. At the top end, the DualSport can run either motor and features a tubular chassis and a long-travel suspension for off-road use. Turnkey vehicles start as low as $21,500, but a Subaru-powered DualSport goes for about $50,000.
The engine is typically mated to either an upgraded VW Type 1 transaxle or a stock Type II with a Kennedy adaptor. The shift action feels a bit weird in contrast to a conventional muscle car, but you get used to it pretty quick. The slightly heavier DualSport version that we drove has more suspension travel and softer ride. In either model, the takeoff from the Subbie feels like your butt was launched from a slingshot. You can easily hit 60 mph is less than five ticks.
Not only that, the exhaust doesn’t have that flatulent, air-cooled braaap-braaap sound. It’s still loud, but in a more gutteral, authoritative note. The turbocharger muffles the sound enough so all that’s needed is a straight pipe for an exhaust. This gives the engine a nice growl that turns into a mean bark under hard throttle.
Given all the barely-used JDM (Japanese Domestic Market) powerplants imported stateside, the Subaru makes a lot of sense. You can get a basic, used lump for around $1000, but a refurbished, turbocharged, show-quality engine, will cost you $8000 or more (which usually includes the adaptor and computer). Not cheap, but considering that a tricked-out 2300cc air-cooled VW engine with around 135 horsepower will run you $5000, it’s not a bad price—and the Subaru engine isn’t even stressed at this level.
“Once you drive a Subaru, it’s the end of any thoughts of a Volkswagen,” Meyers says. “They could probably stay side-by-side in an offroad race, but the VW is killing itself, while the Subaru is breathing easy.” And with a few upgrades, you can pull as much as 450 horses.
But you might not need all that much power to have fun in a Manxter. Bruce Meyers was more than game to blast off a berm in order to demonstrate the car’s capabilities, in a VW-powered version warily provided by its owner, Mark Miller. And this octogenarian proved that he and his Manxter can still hang it out there with the best of ‘em.






