Nevermind

In all honesty, I intended on bringing my blog up to date in my current post, but since so much has happened since last week, I will instead be covering the span of time up until this past weekend. The rest of recent history will require significant time-space to describe.

So, the trip from Charleston to Columbia went off without a hitch, and after sliding my way through the low-country and into the piedmont, I arrived safe and sound at my parent's house. However, my day's travelling was far from over. After gathering with Jacob and Jeffry for some much needed "hey dude, whats up?" we decided that Columbia could not satisfy our appetite for adventure, or our appetite for fried food and milk shakes. There was only one restaurant equipped with a menu which rivals the dictionary in scope and length.

So, equipped with only our hunger and our wits we set out for points unknown to me. Jeffry, as is our tradition, was the wheelman, guiding his truck swiftly and safely towards a glowing paradise of palate pleasing delights, which was but a myth to my mind. I dare not doubt my friend's words, but could such a place truly exist? A diner so popular that our arrival at 1 A.M. involved looking for a parking space. Oh yes, it was true. Papa's got a brand new doggie bag. Long and delicious story short, I ate to my heart's discontent, and grabbed a slab of strawberry shortcake to go. I would go into details about the meal, but I doubt I could finish this post without taking a serious snack break. So I digress.

After feasting, Jeff and Jake and I cruised through Atlanta as we were wont to do. The trip home was smooth sailing and all in all I was sleeping sound in my bus slightly before the sun snuck up behind me. I was awoken, sort of, by my mother and grandmother's voices, who seemed to be intent on finding out if I wanted to come to church with them, though part of me believes they may have been enjoying the process of pestering a weary nocturnal creature such as I had been. I stayed still and waited half-awake for them to leave. I didn't sleep much longer, but awoke eventually to go into the house and enter the day.

Eventually my parents and grandmother returned home, and after lunch I was enlisted, quite happily, to attempt to fix the washing machine. With the help of a handyman over the phone, I was able to get the washer draining and spinning again. It was nice to use the skills that I had developed working with Joe on various projects in Charleston.

I am going to leave off here for now. Stay tuned for my continued adventures in Columbia as well as my harrowing journey into the foothills of North Carolina.

Bon Voyage

After arriving back in Charleston I returned to work with Joe. Knowing now that my bus had what it takes to travel long distances I starting noticing a distinctly itchy feeling on my proverbial feet. For the first week back in Charleston my life was relatively stable. During my second week back in town my roommates at Beaufain street informed me that I had to get a move on away from my spot behind the house. It appears that the landlord was not enthused to have me living behind the house, and they gave me three days notice to vacate the premises.

Some good friends of mine had recieved similar news recently, and they were in the process of vacating their apartment on Rutledge Avenue, a fourth floor apartment lovingly named "The Rut". The owner of the house had begun major renovations on the roof and gave my friends a month's notice that they had to move out. They had found a new apartment on Spring street, which I lovingly termed "The Spring", which at least metaphorically made the move seem more positive and less inconvenient. The new apartment was supposed to have a good deal of off street parking and my friend Charlie invited me to park my bus with them when they moved. The timing was perfect and by the end of the second week of October I was living behind The Spring.

This lovely setup was disrupted rather quickly when my friends were informed that they did not in fact have as much parking as they initially believed. I had to high-tail it out of downtown after three days at the Spring. Luckily, my good friend Wray was more than welcoming to me, and offered me a place to park in front of his house on James Island. While all of this was happening, my job with Joe was undergoing some changes as well which got me thinking about hitting the road in a more permanent way.

For months I had been discussing the possibility of traveling northwards to Maryland, where I could stay with my close friends Nathan and Danny, at their house in Germantown, where they lived with Nathan's sister Meredith and their friend Mark. Work with Joe was slowing down, because on our current job, a major restoration project on a thirty-six foot tri-hull boat, was taking on a new life of its own. Joe was taking on the role of apprentice to a very experienced boat builder, Dave, and so my role as Joe's apprentice was in a state of flux. I took a look at my finances and decided that it was time to go to Maryland. Nathan and Danny had both completed the Recording Industry program at Middle Tennessee State University, and Nathan had been expressing interest in working on an album together for some time. I have wanted to record an album with Nathan ever since before I left Middle Tennessee State University at the end of 2006, and now it seemed like the time had come to take the leap of faith and drive north.

So, I parked my bus at Wray's house for a couple days before leaving Charleston for points only somewhat known. Before leaving I was able to spend some quality time on Wray's BP(backporch) where we discussed magic, volkswagens and the Florida house music scene of the 80's and 90's among other things. Wray got me in touch with a friend of his in Greenville who is a VW mechanic extraordinaire. He was willing to take a look at my bus to allay my fears of some undiscovered mechanical issue that could cripple my plans. So my tentative route fell into place: Charleston to Columbia, Columbia to Greenville, and Greenville to Germantown.

So on Saturday October 16th I left Charleston. In my next post I will record the journey and hopefully bring this blog up to date. Did I make it to Maryland? Did my bus explode? Will I be able to stop the ticking time bomb and save the city from the evil Dr. EvilBadBad? All this and more, next time on this blog!

Radio Silence Lifted

One thing leads to another, thats for sure. It has been almost a month since my last post, so I have alot of ground to cover, because me and my bus have covered almost two thousand miles since I've published anything. I guess I will start where I left off, making brief description of what has been a whirlwind of experience this past month.

The road trip I was on when I last posted went swimmingly. From Beaufort I drove southwest to Alma, GA to visit my grandmother. There I spent an evening talking with my grandmother and walking around the town, listening to the quiet noise of a small town. The next day I drove to Atlanta to visit my brother and his wife and my two nephews, Ollie and Stein. There I was confronted by the loud noise of a bustling city. Slept in the bus because there was no room in the inn(a.k.a. my brother's house which is packed to the brim with him and his wife, their two kids, two dogs, and two cats. It was nice to experience the feeling that I was staying with family, but able to provide my own comfort zone in the form of the bus. I got to sing songs with my oldest nephew Stein, and I became infatuated with my younger nephew Ollister's deep blue eyes, which look as if he knows some grand wisdom that his little developing mind can only share through the look in his gaze.

After staying with my brother I traveled to Columbia, taking back roads that led me through a beautiful pasture-land in eastern Georgia that I had never seen before. In Columbia I caught up with my brothers from other mothers, Jake and Jeff, and saw my parents. It was the next day that the fun really began. Basically the entire east coast had been experiencing a long dry spell which ended the day I left my parent's house to drive to my Grandfather's house in Lumberton, NC. The bus doesn't have working windshield wipers, and I didn't think to buy some RainX at the time (I have since), but I was able to get my headlights working. So I spent a good four hours driving through various degrees of downpour, on the back roads of North Carolina at night.

When I crossed the state line into North Carolina it was already raining pretty steady, and as I was driving I passed a parked police car. Soon after passing it I noticed its blue lights flashing behind me. I knew I hadn't been speeding, but I also knew I was driving the all-time-greatest icon for certain "counter-cultural" movements, so in a sense I expected to be pulled over eventually anyways. It turned out that one of my tail lights was out, and after proving to the cop through my words and actions that I was not a threat to the traditional moral and civic fiber of America, he sent me on my way with a word of encouragement to get my tail light working.

After getting lost for about an hour I made it to my Grandfather's house, somewhere around 10 o'clock. My uncle Josiah is staying with my grandfather now, and he welcomed me, albeit sleepily and I settled into the bus for an all-night rain storm. This was the first and only rain storm where I left the pop-top up in my bus, and a lesson I did learn. It didn't allow significant amounts of water into the bus, but it took quite a while to get the bus to not smell damp and dank after that.

I visited the next morning with my Uncle, and I saw my grandfather only briefly, though the moments I shared with him where exceedingly meaningful. My grandfather is now ninety-four, and I am blessed to have been able to spend the time I have spent with him when he was even just a couple years younger. In 2006 I spent a day with him, talking about what he had seen in his life (he lived through WWI, The Great Depression, WWII etc.) and I learned a great deal from him. On this road trip though I realized that my grandfather did not have time to tell me any stories from his youth. Indeed he has entered into a new phase in his life. I would describe it as a process of fading. While i visited with him on this trip he was napping 90 percent of the time I was there, oddly similar to the way my youngest nephew Ollister lives his life right now.

Speaking of Ollister, I made a most enthralling observation when I looked in my grandfather's deep blue eyes. I felt as if I saw the same wisdom that I saw in Ollister's eyes, a real example of "you have your great grandfather's eyes". I don't know what that means, but I found it to be encouraging. My grandfather is by no means sickly, and instead I would describe him as "fading softly". He naps in the house where he raised a family, on the land where he raised crops for most of his life, and he wakes to dine on fried chicken and rice that my Uncle prepares him. He didn't say more than four things to me while i visited. The first thing he said was "I love you". The second thing he said, was "How are your parents?". The third thing he said was to Uncle Josiah, asking him to fill out a check for him as a present to me. The last thing he said to me was "I love you", just before I left for Charleston, and there's not a bone in my body that doesn't ache with joy when I think of my grandfather, drifting off into a deep slumber, slipping away from us space cadets here on God's green Earth.

Well that brings us up to my return to Charleston from Lumberton, a harrowing journey through rain, over bridges and swamps, which brought me safe and sound back to my house/parking space on Beaufain street in downtown Charleston. I will pick up from here very soon, perhaps later today.

The Family Circuit: Day 1

The bus has carried me safely for two days now. I left Charleston yesterday afternoon, after getting my right rear tire replaced, and stayed the night in Beaufort with my Great Aunt Dorothy. She is a vibrant 89 year old woman, full of vim and vigor. She is my mother's father's sister, and she wears the Boone coat of arms with pride. The general theme of all she said to me goes something like this: We must not lose hold of our dreams. Plans and hopes may seem to rest on finances and practical concerns, but the true potential of our lives rests in our commitment to our dreams. We may never feel that we have arrived at some final resting place as long as our hearts beat, but our time here is not wholly in vain, if only we keep our eyes on our dreams. Yes, I am crazy, but that doesn't mean I'm not a joy to be around, and it doesn't limit my ability to be a comforting and hopeful spirit in a world of confusion.

I only met my Aunt Dot a year ago, but familial ties are disturbingly transcendent of time, and I do not feel as if I have only seen her a handful of times. She does in fact understand me, and though we have had wholly different lives, still she understands my free spirit, and she offers her smile and unique energy to me, as an encouragement for the days ahead, those days that I may likely pass without her smile to inform my spirit.

Today I woke at 8:30, not what Aunt Dot would consider to be very early. I do wish I would have gotten out of bed at 7, when I first woke, for I'm sure Aunt Dot was up and about and I would have loved to spend more time with her in the cool of the morning. Instead, I slept another hour and a half, doing myself perhaps some good in helping me to relax and enjoy the time I did get to spend with Aunt Dot today. I walked with her to the USC-Beaufort library, where I helped her to become more comfortable using the internet on a computer. It is an eye-opening experience to try to explain the proper use of a computer to someone who was born and lived half their life before the microchip was invented. It is not so easy to use a mouse, or to understand the purpose and use of a desktop or internet browser as I once assumed. But by the end of an hour, Aunt Dot had successfully completed a google search and learned some valuable facts about the use of camphor leaves as a topical analgesic. We then proceeded to use the computer catalog to locate books on trees and on gardening.

By noon today, it was time for me to hit the road for Alma. I said goodbye to Aunt Dot, after taking a few pictures of her lovely sky room, a parking space behind her townhouse which she has converted into a lovely garden, complete with a nine foot raised bed, and a dry-stone wall which I constructed for her the day before around a sapling that she is tending to. She really is a wonderful and dynamic woman, and I am proud to share genes with her.

Once on the road, I wound my way towards Savannah, and the bus was running smooth as silk, as it has this entire trip. I am finally getting the hang of operating the sometimes finicky transmission, and only stalled out twice on the road today in traffic, along with once in a parking lot. Luckily my hazard lights work and are easily activated on the dash. There were no major problems on the roadways, and today's drive felt like the ideal training course for driving my bus. Every so often I would hit a small town, with a few stop lights, and this was my chance to practice downshifting and upshifting. US-17 has an impressive bridge over the Savannah River, and i had to take it in 3rd gear to keep up my speed. Savannah is beautiful and I plan to go back for an extended stay in the future. My destination today was my Grandmother's house, the classic destination. So over the rivers, and through the woods I rolled, stopping only to refuel and lose my gas cap. I will have to find another after this trip.

Moving Out, Moving In Pt. 1

Spent the day today cleaning out the bus, and getting it feeling a bit homier. As my current plans go, I am going to spend the month of September sleeping in the bus, while remaining at my current address for the use of household amenities. This seems like it will be a good period of adjustment to my new, smaller home. I spent the rest of the day downsizing my belongings, and man it didn't go as fast as I'd thought it might. I have/had a bunch of stuff. I threw away alot of things today, bagged other stuff for the thrift store, and packed away three boxes of things that I plan to store at my parent's house hopefully. I narrowed down the books I am going to bring with me into the bus to somewhere near twenty, which I feel good about. It looks like tonight will be my last night in this room. Uncovered alot of memories today, discarding some and retaining others. That is an odd process. Especially when the memories are conjured by some object, the only object in the world that could probably conjure up that memory, and you are faced with the decision to keep it and probably run back into that memory again some day, probably on a day much like today, where you would once again be faced with the option of discarding the item, probably discarding with it the memory that it conjures in your mind. Decisions, decisions. Decisions.

Two weeks in

I must admit, I did not know exactly what I was getting myself into when I bought this bus with plans of living in it. But how could I have known really? Things are going well, and plans are being made and remade on an hourly basis. Progress has been slower then I had hoped, but I did not allow for the mental and emotional aspect to this DIY process in my original calclulations. I am picking up my pace as I begin to wrap my head around what I am doing.

Just spending time in the bus, listening to music, sanding sometimes and sitting in the back with a glass of water and a smoldering rolled paper has been really nice. With the curtains in and the windows open the bus takes a very nice nomadic tent feel, with a nice breeze even at the hottest part of the day. The pop-top really gives a good breathe to it.

I'm typing this from the passenger-seat of the bus, which turns a full 180 to face the back part of the bus. Its a nice feature that I just discovered today.

Now I am inside my house. while the primer dries on the floor pan. Finished sanding the floor today, so now I can start shopping for flooring. I want to find a nice blonde wood, or bamboo to put down inside. I figure a lighter wood will give the bus a homier feel and make the space feel bigger.

My next task is to sand down the cabinetry and prime it to be painted. No decision yet on a color for the cabinets, but I'm thinking something light with either a yellow, blue or beige tint to it.

I have been approaching work on the bus in terms of the various systems in the bus and the value that I place on getting those systems up to snuff. The systems in need of attention to my reckoning thus far are:

Engine

Transmission

Brakes

Electrical

Amenities

Interior Surfaces

Exterior Surfaces

The engine is of special importance, as it drives the car, [with my help hopefully(herbert the love bus?)] and my next step in that direction is to change the oil to a heavier weight (30 SAE), but overall the engine seems to be running pretty well, so after I change the oil I am probably going take the bus around the block a couple times to check out the transmission and breaks. All tests on the brakes and transmission have come up roses, but a road test is necessary to cross them off the list of immediate repairs.

The electrical system appears to be in working order when it comes to driving, but I do plan to put in a new battery anyways. All the necessary lights inside and out work including blinkers and all. The only other impediment between my bus and street legality is the front end. There is not a bumper on the bus and the body has a bit of a busted lip along the area where the bumper attaches. I am now on the lookout for a bumper. I also need to get a new rim for the front right tire.

The rest of the body is in decent shape, some parts look new, others have some surface rust or dings. Its water-tight and not rusting out so that is a big plus. Redoing the exterior is far down on the list at this point, except for where the bumper is concerned.

The aspect of the electrical system that I do want to work on is the ability for the bus to use a second battery to power items such as my laptop or a fan, without draining the main battery. It will take some work to get it wired up, but I found the relay wiring, and since this bus was originally designed to be able to have a second battery, the job is a pretty straightforward one.

The interior surfaces on the bus are in need of some love and care. I plan to get that bus very comfortable and livable, even if that means taking out the cabinets and making a new interior.

My next step for the interior is to get the gas stove and sink working. If I can get them working, then the bus will be officially livable.

All in all, I am very much in the process of this bus renovation, and its not especially easy, and it really takes my focus and time like a semester of school. It is similar actually. Each system is like a different class. I am doing well in Introduction to Air-Cooled Engines, but the first test wasn't very hard. The upper-division Interior Design class I am taking is very challenging. It is all about the proper use of space and color in a small room. Wish me luck.

"...not all those who wander are lost..."

For as long as I've spent any time thinking and dreaming about the future, I have doted upon living with great freedom and simplicity. I've considered wandering about on foot or on bike, but have settled upon the horseless buggy as my choice of transportation/accommodation. I am now the proud owner of a 1978 Volkswagen Pop-top Campmobile. She is a blonde microbus with a heart of gold, and veins of steel. I don't really know exactly what I've gotten myself into, but the vibe is strong and I am getting plenty of much-needed help from great people. I would like to take a second to mention the people that have played a role in my buying of this bus.

In the crowd of people that have had a hand in this adventure, my grandma sits front and center. Without her support I would not have been able to get the bus, and her trust and love for me are a constant blessing. When it comes to how I came to even want a bus, my parents have been integral. My mother rekindled the idea of living in a VW bus earlier this year while I was finishing up my last semester at College of Charleston. She told me that she had seen a bus for sale in Lexington, SC(my parents home), and when she saw it, she thought of me and my many talks about venturing about in a wayfaring way. It was months later that I remembered the conversation I had with my mother about the bus, when that seed germinated. My father's part in all that has happened thus far is far more indirect. One of the first and still one of the clearest images I have of what the future may hold as I begin rambling through the world in this glorious contraption, is a scene from one of my father's favorite movies, Field of Dreams, in which Kevin Costner and James Earl Jones are sliding along a country highway with the Doobie Brother's rock masterpiece "China Grove" playing in the background. I cannot wait to get this bus on the road so that if nothing else my father and I can wind our way beneath a sunlit sky as the Doobie's bring us home.

After graduating college with a degree in Anthropology, I returned to working with Earl, a black and white spotted mut. She is the owner of a renovation company. She lets her owner Joe do the day to day work, sanding and painting, building and crafting. She does all the day to day sunbathing and water-lapping herself. It was a windy afternoon on the Bohicket river, while Joe and I were working tirelessly to repair a 36-foot trimaran that we began gnawing on a yarny question that I had been working on since before I graduated college. "What am I going to do now that I've finished college?". "Pass me that sandpaper", said Joe. "Here...but I mean really I don't know what I am going to do. I can't apply to graduate school, if I even want to, until the winter, and I won't be able to go until next August even if I do apply. I don't even have a car. I rely on you to pick me up every day for work, which is great. I feel really dependent on you. I need to get a car. But I don't have the money for a car. And I don't want to live downtown anymore. It was great while I was in school, but I finished school and I want to move on...."(I went on like this for a while). Eventually I ended up with this statement: "Maybe I should do what my mom said and live in a bus". Joe said, "Yea maybe you should." He actually said much more than that, and we kept bouncing the idea around until it really felt like it was a completely ludicrous notion. Over the next month and a half Joe remained a source of encouragement and ideas concerning the bus. Joe also introduced me to a couple friends of his, some really cool guys who love classic Volkswagens and helped me get my feet on the ground about what I was getting myself into. Derek and Robert gave me much needed pointers on how to look for a bus and how to learn about buses. They even went so far as to look over a prospective bus with me, and they saved me from getting in way over my head with a bus that, though beautiful and in need of a loving owner, would have sunk me in a laundry list of intense repairs. Also, to pass along something Derek told me that I may never have considered otherwise, to my buses detriment, is that buses like my 78 westy run on 93 octane fuel only. Good to know.

It was right around the time that Derek and Robert were giving me pointers and encouragement that I found out that my roommate's dad had been a Volkswagen mechanic. He has also owned two buses of his own, and Ben(roommate) and Bob(Ben's Dad) have been great chums. They drove me up to St. George, SC, where I found the bus that I now own, and looked it over with me. We gave the bus a good look over today and even got the engine to turn over, making my $2000 investment look better and better .

There have been countless other friends who have offered their support, and everyone who has shared or will share this adventure with me is hereby thanked, patted on the back, hugged, high-fived, and smiled upon.

Perhaps next I will post some of my plans for the bus, but of course plans are amorphous spectres at best.