Schooled by a skoolie. Part the first.

I came across a video on youtube where a dude converted a bus into an RV, and I fell in love with the idea. With a couple of friends sold on the taking a bus and converting it into an RV for our roadtrip in 2019. (I am the wrong kind of stupid) I began searching for a bus. Yeah, I had to talk other people into this project, as I was already well over my head. More on that later.

I strolled about the interwebs for months trying to land a proper bus with the features I wanted. Flat-nose, rear-engine, 40’ long. There are always a ton of buses available, but most of them don’t really fall into my price-range of super-cheap, while not being about to shake apart in a light breeze.

Because I am either dumb or delusional in my belief that I can find both good and cheap.

I had a list of sites that I checked daily and I began to get really antsy and anxious. There were a couple at a place out in Maryland. I could buy one, take a flight and drive it back through DC traffic the 20 hours across country. Man that sounds like a bad idea. I ended up on facebook market-place as the days ticked by. Desperately combing the ads for a bus that would fit the bill. Facebook marketplace, insert Mos Eisly Cantina reference here. It fits.

But luck was with me, I came across a bus with the features I wanted. And in my price-range. A big red monstrosity that had once been a church bus. And the owner was a mere hour to the north, and had intended to build a skoolie himself and his family. That fell apart and he was now selling, but only after he had put in some of the basic work. Huzzah. I made an appointment for the following Sunday.

He was cash only, as are most of the denizens of facebook so I stopped at the bank and withdrew the cash when we were on our way to comic-con. And then spent the rest of the day weaving through rivers of strangers with one hand in my pocket as my shoulders cramped and my mind was wrapped in a gauze of paranoia. It was a long day.

The following sunday, in the company of a couple friends, we ventured north to take a look at the first real lead in our exciting new world! I was going to get a bus. Maybe. Mostly I was worried that I was going to be robbed and then get Ned Beatty-ed. I don’t have an opinion about the relative attractiveness of my mouth and to this day I am perfectly content to remain in blind ignorance about what the general populace might think.

The bus made me uncomfortable. The breaks were odd, the engine was leaking oil, the front step had rusted out and he had cut all of the legs off the bus seats, leaving the feet that would still need to be removed. We gave it a test drive and told him that I’d think on it. I thought it made me uncomfortable and I would pass.

He sold the bus to some other taker. Good luck to both of them, but I was back where I started. Then I found an auction site for local governments. Hot damn! And they had whole load of buses. All over the country! I bid on one in Eugene Oregon, all my features, and no rust. I was already cobbling together plans to fly out and drive it back. I have a friend who lives in Eugene, I’d like to drop by and see her. Fortunately, as the much shorter Maryland trek would have been an endurance job, the Eugene bus quickly taken away by aggressive bidders.

I ended up buying a bus from a school district in Toledo Ohio, some 3 hours drive from my home. I put in my bid and my nerves grew more and more strained as the countdown ticked closer to zero. How am I going to get this thing? I need a ride over. Do I have to insure it(yes, theoretically, but finding bus insurance is insanely difficult for individuals)? What would happen if I got stopped by the police, as I don’t have a special driver’s license? Did I need a special driver’s license just to drive an empty school bus across state?

I won the auction. $1500. I was already stewing in anxiety. Where was I going to keep this thing? I had already named it. Rowsdower, after Canada’s greatest action hero. I set to trying to work out the details.

Shit. I just bought a bus.

Late June and the weather was a humid 90 degrees, a good day to drive across state. Fuck the Midwest. But with paperwork in hand I set off with a friend across state to go and see my bus for the first time and bring it home. Like a proud, frightened nimrod who makes poor decisions. Like myself.

Rowsdower was in fantastic shape and sitting down in the driver’s seat made me feel excited as I imagined the possibilities.

Buying the bus was a learning experience. Firstly I learned that my bus could hit 70 on an open highway. Secondly I learned how to drive a bus. Did my bus have air-conditioning? That was my first question. And yes it did, when you opened the windows and got onto the highway. More importantly, did my bus have cruise control? I forgot to ask that. The answer turned out to be yes, I discovered on my own a month later. Hey, looking over your shoulder through the rear window? Like you do when driving a normal car, well that isn’t feasible with a bus. You stick to the mirrors buddy and you’re gonna like it.

The drive back was long and challenging. I tried to keep behind semi-trucks as Rowsdower plodded along the highways. That way I was able to keep a constant pace, and maybe even draft a little and ease up on the fuel consumption. What seemed like a week later, we finally got back into town just in time for rush hour traffic.

Another friend had offered to store the bus on his property north of town. He was in a residential neighborhood, but off the beaten path. I had never been there, but the friend who had gone on the Toledo adventure with me, he knew where it was.

Mostly.

We passed the driveway. I learned something new, backing up a school bus in a quiet suburb is not easy. It is very hard. Especially for yours truly. But alas, Rowsdower was safely ensconced in his new home! I had accomplished a major feat and achieved a goal.  And the rest of the night was mine to relax. Soon the deconstruction would begin.