Magic Bus

It seemed like a good idea at the time. There was the whole neo-hippy fantasy of a VW bus after a number of years without a car to our names. Biff found a guy in Santa Cruz selling his, for like a grand, and so we got it. It was green and looked like this:


Oh yeah, it also once had a camper top which had been removed and the hole covered up with a removable piece of fiberglass. The previous owner had lost the keys at Reggae on the River or something, and so the ignition was destroyed and jury-rigged back together. It was painted with house paint. Oh and hey, right before leaving, the guy mentioned that quite often the throttle will stick, making the engine rev and rev, so you have to pull over, open up the engine compartment and manually un-stick it.

But I was able to overlook all of it. It looked so sweet sitting there next to the Pan Handle of Golden Gate Park. Bif and I used to just sit in there, light a candle and drink beer. Once, when we had too many guests at our place, we slept in it. We called it the "Bus Bus" and I would often sing, "bus bus, magic bus".

I overlooked the negative things about it until I had to drive the thing anywhere. That jury-rigged ignition could come detached at any moment, killing the engine even if you're doing a flash speedy 53 mph down the 101. Any gust of wind would hit that 10 pound box of sheet metal like a sail, pushing you all over the freeway. It always smelled vaguely of a lawnmower in there, and the trip to San Luis Obispo, which would take about 3 hours in a normal mode of transportation, took near 6 hours.

On said trip to San Luis Obispo, I had forgotten all about the insanely steep incline to the freeway just before it drops down into SLO town. I used to have stress dreams that involved driving up hills that became more and more inclined as I progressed; the dream had come alive. I was doing a robust 3mph, being passed by semis, wind tossing me around the lane and me holding onto the wheel with a grip that rivaled that of a chronic masturbator. How could this get any worse?

Well thick, thick fog, of course.

We reached the destination, and after many relaxing beers and glasses of scotch, I put it behind me as over and done with. When we then blew a tire around King City on the way home, and then realized that the Bus Bus came without a jack, and then realized after walking a couple miles to an auto parts store to get a jack that the lug nuts were fused to the bus, I believe I realized that my brief love affair with the VW bus was over.

While we ended up donating it to get rid of it, I sort of wish I had caused this:


I do though have fond memories of sitting in the darkness within, drinking beer and laughing with Bif. I do have that.