Over the last few years, Marsha and I have become enamored of the Pacific Northwest. We love its rain, trees, running water and open spaces; all very different from southern California. We've explored various areas of Washington State and British Columbia in springtime, camping in our trusty VW Westphalia.

This year, other commitments delayed our trip until August, and we only had time for a quick visit even then. Just to add a little extra challenge to travelling in a high-mileage, air-cooled vehicle, our trip coincided with a record-setting heat wave. Temperatures in California's central valleys easily exceeded 100 degrees F., cooling only slightly as we crossed Oregon's mountain passes.

The purpose of our whirlwind trip was to explore the Portland area, and we had little intent of stopping much along the way. This changed at the insistence of Cameron Lovre, our long-time E-mail friend, fellow Volvo enthusiast and Associate Editor.

"If you can possibly spare the time for a quick stop in Eugene, you've got to check out Bob's shop!" Cam enthused. "I'll run down from Portland and meet you at his place."

"Bob" is Bob Moreno, owner of The Works. When Cameron had previously written to us about Bob and his Volvo, I had imagined his place to be the usual Import Car Repair sort of affair, but Bob sounded like a nice guy and I was eager to see his outrageously quick PV, so I agreed. We were in for a surprise.

The Works is on W. 11th Avenue in Eugene, about three blocks east of the Beltline Highway. It's easy to get to, but hard to spot from the road -- a gold 544 with a "For Sale" sign by the driveway tipped us where to turn, and a cluster of classic Volvos told us by which door to park.

We were wearing our ratty traveling clothes (the shoulder of my T-shirt had had a close encounter with a glob of grease at the last gas station), I had a few day's stubble on my face and we both had road and wind burn. Eugene was in the mid-nineties, and Marsha was on the border between simply overheated and definitely parboiled. So much for making a good first impression.

As we decanted ourselves from the cab of the bus, we were greeted enthusiatically by several people. The first proved to be Cameron (wearing a Wallace & Grommit shirt) followed by his friend and fellow Amazon owner Teague Oviatt, and finally Bob Moreno himself. They immediately made us feel comfortable, temperature notwithstanding, and Bob invited us into his tidy shop.

My eyes were first drawn to a lemon yellow car on stands, obviously well along the way to immaculate reconstruction. Hmmmm -- smallish, exotic, empty engine compartment in the rear, right hand drive -- I couldn't identify it. Bob informed me that it was an Abarth Simca.

The second thing I noticed -- gratefully -- was that Bob had fans running in the shop. Not just any fans, though: vintage fans with ornate guards, sculpted bases and gleaming chrome, all humming along like brand new and doing a fine job of moving air. It began to dawn on me that Bob knew a few things beyond how to turn wrenches.

Lifting the edge of a large drop sheet in a corner of the shop, I unveiled an axle stub and brake backing plate. Now, this one I recognized: elderly MG architechture. Sure enough, removing the sheet completely revealed most of a '53 MG-TD. The springs had been powder coated and reassembled with rubber strips to prevent squeaking. Hardware gleamed. A new, finely finished wooden dash hung on the wall above a stack of perfect wire wheels. The MG's body looked as if it had been dipped in British Racing Green chocolate. Bob admitted to completely rebuilding the underlying wooden structure -- I added "cabinetry" to Bob's growing list of skills.

After a tour of a well-lit paint booth (inhabited at the moment by an early Austin-Healy 3000), a shiny red 122S pulled up outside the shop. After meeting its owner, Boris Kort-Packard, I thought it time to check out the Volvos. Marsha and Bob stayed inside talking about restoring and collecting fans for a bit.

Under the hood of Boris' 1966 122S lives an example of '70s ipd performance: a 2200 cc motor with dual SU carbs, "R" cam and a header. This setup makes lot of power [Fastest SU-equipped car I've EVER driven! -- Cameron], but is either "on the cam" or "off the cam" with no transition. Sitting on 70-series tires and fitted with 20% stiffer, but stock length, springs, the car sits tall -- Boris enjoys mountain biking and uses this daily driver on dirt roads -- but does well as an autocrosser. The gray cloth interior sets off the exterior paint and chrome -- all in all, a very nice car.

In contrast, Cameron's tan 1968 122S employs a later approach to performance tuning: ipd 2130 cc kit, Street Performance cam and Weber DCOE sidedrafts. With full ipd suspension, lowering springs, Bilstein shocks and fat, 50-series tires, it's a definite "sleeper." We'll take a closer look at Cameron's cars in a later issue.

Bob emerged to give us a look at his taxi-cab yellow 544. There's nothing subtle about this car's color or stance, but even at that, it goes faster than it looks -- Bob's recent demonstration on the parade lap at Portland International Raceway (with Cameron in hot pursuit) had the actual racers running to the infield for a look under the hood. This 2130 motor has been worked over far beyond the "kit" stage -- I was struck at the long manifold for the Webers and the velocity stacks under foam air cleaners; the forward carb breathing through a cutout in the fender well.

Bob was too soft-spoken to say much about it, but Cameron maintains that this is the quickest classic Volvo he's encountered -- he's seen the front wheels off the ground under acceleration. This has been Bob's daily transportation for nine years -- a blend of speed and reliability.

I added "performance engineering" to Bob's list.

It was time for us to start moving on up the road if we were to get to Portland in time for our reservation at the Hayden Beach Resort campground. With firm resolve, we began our farewells...

...and Bob brought out his portfolio of "before and after" photos. There was Cameron's car as he bought it, with the rear smashed in and the tail lights facing each other. Pictures of straightening the frame, welding in new panels, shaping new holes for new tail lights -- no one would guess any of this from looking at the car now.

There followed photos of other Volvos, a variety of more exotic repairs and restorations on assorted Lotus models and some very rare Ferraris. I was struck by a Maserati Biturbo with custom bodywork that completely transformed the car -- it no longer looked anything like a 1980's Honda Accord; it looked the way Maserati should have designed it. OK, "stylist" got added to Bob's list.

About an hour and a half later, we actually managed to get rolling. Well, it's not every day we get to have our own private Volvo mini-meet, after all.

That night in Portland, as the temperature fell into the eighties and some kids raced a couple of pickup trucks around the Toys-R-Us parking lot directly across the street from the "resort," I couldn't help but fantasize what the results might be if we turned Bob loose on our two Volvos.

We'll be back, Bob -- I promise.

Next: Inside ipd.