The World’s Most Impractical Van?

As a workhorse, a van’s entire reason for even existing is based around practicality and functionality. Without that, one could argue that a van is nothing. Yet for ever rule, there is of course an exception. And in the world of van’s, that exception may well be the 1972 Brubaker Box.

Now please don’t over interpret any of the above. Granted, “practicality” and “functionality” hardly resonate with style and sexiness, but I actually do hold a very real appreciation of classic vans – and pickups for that matter. I find them entirely charming and there’s certainly no denying their importance for our general motoring heritage. Furthermore, while they were of course designed, developed, manufactured and sold purely to haul goods as best possible, many still managed to have well-balanced and harmonious designs with interesting or even outright stylish details and design elements. While I haven’t owned a classic van yet, I sense that day will eventually come.

But all that said, they all still offer those essential qualities of practicality and functionality. Yet up through the seventies we were treated to the era of customised vans where style was most certainly a bigger factor than usefulness, as van owners went to extremes to personalise their vans in an attempt to impress. It was this customising craze combined with the many old and often run-down VW buses of the surfing culture which inspired Curtis Brubaker to design this funky little van: the Brubaker Box.

Curtis Brubaker was no stranger to design as he had studied car design at Pasadena’s Art Center College of Design. He worked with Learjet before moving to GM’s Advanced Research Group before finally setting up his own design studio in Los Angeles. With all of this experience he sketched the rakish and still rather timeless lines of the Brubaker Box.

The body was constructed from fibreglass and as with the many beach buggies and other kit cars of the seventies, it was to be assembled on a VW Beetle chassis. The chassis and entire drivetrain was left unmodified and then 13 pieces of fibreglass were riveted and bonded onto it thereby creating the floor and not least the entire bodywork of the stylish little van. Due to the interior space of the Brubaker Box being somewhat longer than that of the original Beetle, the foot pedal assembly was both raised and moved forward while the fuel tank was moved further back and positioned roughly in the middle of the chassis. There were two separate seats at the front while the rear – as was so popular among the custom vans – offered a lounge like seating arrangement. Oddly, a large van-like sliding door on the passenger side was in fact the only entrance into the van, which didn’t really offer any space for hauling goods at all. So the question presents itself: Was this really a proper van? Or should it perhaps be viewed more like a cross between a beach buggy and a custom car? Either way, I suppose you could strap your surfboards to the roof and then look immensely cool as you arrived at the beach in your Brubaker, which is of course much more important than moving goods from A to B.

The concept was well received and Curtis Brubaker managed to raise US $ 160,000 from investors. In 1972 he leased a 17,000 sq. foot factory and announced that they would start producing complete cars from here rather than just kit cars. The Brubaker Box would sell at just under US $ 4,000 and for a while it seemed to all be coming together very nicely. Then VW refused to sell Brubaker the Type 1 rolling chassis which he needed and suddenly the whole project took a turn for the worse. The only way forward was for Brubaker to purchase complete VW Beetles, disassemble them and then attempt to sell off all the parts which weren’t needed. Needless to say, this was hardly a cost-efficient way of producing the Box and after completing only three cars, Curtis Brubaker filed for bankruptcy.

However, the story of the Brubaker Box doesn’t quite end there. One of Brubaker’s investors, Mike Hansen, was convinced that the design still had potential. It was just the business model which had failed. So he bought the rights to the design and set up a new company called Automecca. In 1974 they started producing new bodies which were now renamed the Roamer Sports Van and sold them in kit form. This of course overcame the whole issue of not being able to source new Type 1 rolling chassis from VW. In this format, Brubaker’s stylish Box managed to find a little more success – though not overwhelming. By the time production ceased in 1979 it’s believed that they had managed to sell approximately 25 of these kits.

But while it’s a perfect product of the seventies, I feel that still to this day the overall design is both sharp and fresh – even if it’s not much use for lugging goods and boxes around. But what say you dear ViaRETRO reader; how do you feel about the Brubaker Box? Did it deserve more success? Would you drive one yourself (if you could find one)? And can you think of another van which is of less use as a workhouse?