On Der Bus

Part nitty-gritty education-style How-To, part Reality Television, and part murmurs on What It's Like. Mixed and blended with two cups of Ice in the video-upload-frenzy-Facebook. Serve with a mint sprig and curly orange rind.


Friends, photos, videos and more available on Facebook: Gus Bus

Making RV Living Hip

Bus contains kitchen, fireplace, shower and music studio.

By Asher Price

AMERICAN-STATESMAN STAFF

Updated: 11:41 p.m. Monday, Jan. 11, 2010

Published: 11:00 p.m. Monday, Jan. 11, 2010

As temperatures dropped into the teens over the weekend, Dave Weaver and Thomas Ruble had no problem keeping snug by the fireplace in their East Austin school bus.

The 1979 Bluebird International, which can rumble up to 55 mph on recycled vegetable oil, sleeps six; contains a hot-water shower, kitchen, fridge and freezer; sports floor-to-ceiling wood paneling; and features a music studio with a stand-up piano.

In the galaxy of off-the-grid living, their pad is cooler than yours.

Combining all the chi-chi style of world-class yachts — Weaver’s father was a carpenter with a Seattle-area yacht manufacturer, and the bus is outfitted with fancy scrap wood — and the environmental sensitivity you would expect of two recent college graduates from Washington state — thus the bus’s conversion to run on used vegetable oil from restaurants — the Bluebird sets a new standard in RVing.

And then there’s the penthouse, a bolted-down shell of a 1979 Volkswagen camper bus that piggybacks on top of the Bluebird. Yes, the penthouse gets great light, and opens, hatchback-like, to the bus’s picket-fenced “yard,” also known as the back half of the roof.

Looking for an adventure with an environmental bent, Weaver, 24, and Ruble, 23, friends from college, drove the bus to Austin in the late summer. At the time, they had already spent roughly $20,000 to outfit the bus, which Weaver had bought for $1,500 on Craigslist.

They picked Austin because that’s where Weaver’s brother, Ben, who had started graduate school at the University of Texas, was living.

Ben Weaver, having suffered from bus envy himself, also now lives in a veggie-oil-powered bus, adjacent to the one occupied by Dave Weaver and Ruble.

The group pays an East Austin homeowner $150 per bus per month to park, semipermanently, in the backyard. Right now both buses are plugged in, getting electricity and water from the home. They make use of beds, couches and a toilet in a next-door garage apartment, which they furnished and get to use for free for now.

When they’re on the road, “we’re like stars, especially at gas stations,” says Weaver, a tall, drawn and earnest saxophonist who records in the back of the bus.

“We have to break a picket line to get back to the front of the bus,” said Ruble, also a musician. “Everyone’s pulled out their cell phones and cameras to take pictures.”

Some of the details: The 40-foot-long, 13½-foot-tall vehicle has four 50-gallon tanks — one for conventional diesel and three for vegetable oil — and gets seven miles to the gallon. It carries a 50-gallon water tank and two 10-gallon propane tanks that power the water heater, fridge, stove and fireplace.

Besides two starting batteries on the engine of the bus, the Bluebird has solar panels and two golf-cart batteries, which power the fluorescent lights, guitar amps and computers when the bus is on the road.

For now, the pair has built a wooden fence to keep it out of public view and comply with city code. Ruble just left town with a friend on a band tour, and Weaver seems happily ensconced in his studio.

The bus serves as a test for green living, Weaver said.

“We wanted to live cheaply and lightly,” he said.

Las Vegas Boulevard.  U.S.E. + B.U.S.  Mayhem.  Mannheim.

Let’s just say we got lost in Canyonlands.  It makes our adventure more understandable….and exciting! We hiked 25 miles on accident and therefore ran out of water 1/3 of the way through. c’est la vie. we got some good photos of a river (colorado & green) running into another one!

After two weeks in Moab, I couldn’t leave without paying a visit to Slickrock - the world’s most renowned biking trail.

After two weeks in Moab, I couldn’t leave without paying a visit to Slickrock - the world’s most renowned biking trail.

Oh Happy Days!

September 9

Sitting up on the back yard, I watch the stars twinkle in the black sky and the desertorange horizon glow still chasing its brightshining mothership…A breakthrough.
No more sleepless nights nor desperate experimentation nor nightmares about yet another clogged fuel filter. We have driven 2500 miles and changed the filter about 10 times already. Now we know why.
This morning we rotated the suction pipe sticking into our oil-filtering barrel just a little upwards so that it is a few inches from the bottom rather than a quarter inch. LIttle did we know a revolution was at hand. This allowed for a much freer flow of the vegetable oil through the pump and into the centrifuge. The countless times in the past that we have cleaned the centrifuge, there was a thin layer of black residue. When I returned from a canyon hike seeing the three peaceful giants that are Siapu, Kachina and Owachomo Natural Bridges, we took apart the centrifuge to see what magic had occurred. Sure enough, a great greasy wad of chicken fat, nearly an inch thick and the texture of silly puddy, was crammed against the rotor walls, much beyond its capacity.
O great grease Gods! O Queen of quagulated animal fats! O superior spiritual leader of the oil kingdom! Praise Ye, for Ye have sent miraculous wisdom and great knowledge to these ignorant sophomores. Now, at Your behest, we will continue our jolly journey without fear that the great mountain passes will ceaselessly suck yet another $12 filter from the weary womb of our champion iron horse they call Gus.

We also saw Mesa Verde last night. It was enchanting.

BUS + BARACK = LOVE

Neo Cowboys

AUGUST 24

DAY 24873

MoAb UtAh

Faint memories of the old life: wetness, hard work, family, long necks, grass, popcorn, more work….have turned into new mental images.  Those have left in my head and my vision is full of Orange.  They call it red but it is truly an orange landscape of sandstone canyons, mesas, arches, needles, every-liths and flowing-salt-formed valleys…..And how well I blend in when the blue sky meets the orange earth…..but at the perfect time, on the perfect day in this desert land, the eye sees naught but six wheels and a cloud of white smoke trailing a blinding beam of 55 mph light. The inland, heartland of the west is not the pretense of california or the contentment of the northwest; soft light is not shed in these parts.  driving through yellowstone, i figured that was the devils playground.  with the sulfur stench permeating hundreds of square miles of bubbling, boiling mud water and earth (and buffalos!), it’s hard to imagine that Mr. Beelzebub is very far underground.  He didn’t hide his hideous hideout deep enough below ground.  After setting eyes on this molten, massive, desert land that slides vertical miles in the blink of a lizard’s eye, i get to thinking that this just might be his playground.  tourists got to it first.  that’s what Dre says.  If i had a nickel for every guy who comes up to our bus and talk of how he has all the same plans for his bus, Dre wouldn’t have made me a cent richer. he lives with his wife Karen in a 30 foot school bus with a second story made of one 1977 Westfallia and a 1949 Jeep melded together.  quite a trip.  40 trips to Burning Man to be exact. Truly a Burner for Life.  will tell you stories about the old moab without the Euro-hordes romping around demanding larger motels and cuter boutiques.  at his place, he hands us a beer from an ice cooler as we step out the back door of his Burning Bus and he gives us a fair warning that, while tripped and tricked out to no end, it is meager when sized up to other Burning Buses he’s scene at Burning Man.  ok Dre.  we’re just enjoying bus livin.  this Maschine-Haus of his is two steps from the creek and he’s put in his bid at having made the best little hippie hideaway ‘round these parts.

days here are spent filling up with awe and modesty.  and i haven’t seen any of the good stuff yet (except hanging out with a mother beaver and here shy lil beaverette).  nights are spent parked in a vast orange valley under an even more vast sky, trying to deny the glory/celebrity we have when in a city.  living in the astounding orange void, as close to anonymity as we have found, we travel by neo-horse, through America’s neo-town, ever under the same ancient sun, the same eternal sky.  We are Neo-Cowboys.

D

Gus ♡ Uncle Bob
SLC for Life!
Aristotle

bus ♡ montana

day 6

odometer: 775 miles

belly: yum. i eat dirty vegetable oil.  

time: n/a. i carry within me 2 clocks. the one by the captain’s lair jumps around at random. right now it is tomorrow, 2 hours ago it was yesterday. The other clock is replica of a piece of toast.

head: full to the brim with an entourage of black light puppet actors that karl’s mom gave to the boys. old sunday school show to teach children about the wonders ecstasy.  

light: bright yellow evening sun hovering just over Mt. Montana, fighting its falling fate. typical weather of our Big Sky Weekend. i like sun. mine shines the darkest of hues.

stove: falling apart like all of my metal devices…anything metal has a greater propensity to drip into disrepair. i like wood. mine glows golden.  

adventure: on the rise, i hope. i have never ventured through the missoula valley, nee: missoula glacial lake, the great patron of the columbia basin and the giver of its shape. when the ice dam holding the mgl broke, a mega-flow of H2O came and washed away the sinful lands of eastern wa, idaho and oregon to form the columbia basin. it spared not a soul in its massive kinetic carving of the gorge and its epic surroundings….except Dave Matthews.  

karl’s parents: the sweetest.

♡D

let’s ketchup

AUGUST 4

maybe it’s not just another drive through seattle but it sure seems like it. stop at noah’s. julie cooks signature chicken noodle. the boys eat. wine spills. bacchanal ensues…

highlights of the evening:

1: costume party

2: http://tinyurl.com/neg6rn

3. communal happiness

D

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

“Hey! This song’s perfect!”

- Thomas

Goodbye At the End of the Road

Starting a new life today! Warm in the sun and the presence of friends today is push off day! Finishing touches are being made and Gustav is getting cleaned, with a hoped for afternoon send off to Seattle, where U.S.E is playing at the Croc. What else can I say? I’m on the most beautiful bus I’ve ever seen, and knowing that it was created by my favorite people just warms my heart beyond words! Here’s to what we have yet to write, the stories we’ll soon read, and the adventure that begins today!

xo Mary V