One hour later up in the sandy hills I see a For Rent sign. Shaking hands with the owner we agree to a remodel conversion, making it a legal dwelling, in exchange for living there. As soon as I had finished it, he broke our agreement and sold it. Feeling discouraged and betrayed I looked to my possibilities. Parked there, was the old school bus I had just purchased with my earnings. So tired of landlords claiming my efforts, I thought, well, no one can evict me from a home on wheels.

On the road with the bus to lovely Idaho, I realized what I had in Grace, a home. I was excited to be investing in my self, our ideas, my sense of beauty, our future. Grace was born in Bonny Doon. Friends brought materials, tools, support, ideas but also doubts. However, everywhere we went, we found open doors and hearts. My young artist partner and I learned many skills that sustained us on the road, the main one bring trusting in the now. Gasoline was .89 cents a gallon and there were very few bus conversions or house trucks. Only an occasional white Winnebago box with ‘very old people’ in them. We were unique and loved the path we were forging.

In the years 1974 to 1986 we traversed from Jasper B.C. to the southern deserts in search of hot springs and beauty. Since then, the bus has been remodeled and modified three times, the third just now finishing. Grace showed us how little water, propane and electricity we needed. She was off-grid. She taught us less is more, and freed us to be present and available for life.

For the last twenty five years the bus has remained in her berth as my quiet refuge. I am now ready to move her down the road. It is my intention, considering the uneasy times we are in and the acute need for housing, to offer this bus as a sheltered stationary home rather than a touring vehicle.

May Grace, grace you with her many gifts of simple sustainable living on this wondrous earth.

Two of Many Stories

1. Arriving in Taos N.M. in late June fueled only by the flow and our trust, we went straight to the Chamber Of Commerce and asked the events person if there were any upcoming fairs. When she saw the bus she said we could be the entrance featured artist at the First Annual Taos Arts and Crafts Fair which was a month away.The fee was $5.00. When I admitted we didn’t have the money, she smiled and said we could pay later.

Up into the Sangre de Christo mountains we went, looking for a place to park and create. Parked next to a meadow with a stream I found a 55 gallon trash burner. Eureka! On board I carried acetylene torches. I welded structures for weavings, magic wands and shields as my girlfriend wove from her loom with fleece given from a farmer up the road. We gathered chamisa for coloring the wool in our dying pans which we carded and hand spun.

We made $785.00 that weekend, a fortune for us. We were invited to a fine piece of land overlooking Taos where we continued to get work until the first snow drove us into warmer climes.

2. Arriving in Ketchum Idaho after our usual 500 mile a a day drive, we found a small pond off the road. It seemed ideal. I started the wood stove while my girlfriend, in her cute apron began to bake some cakes. We did not believe in chemicals or additives so we just left them out of our recipes.

Great…here comes the sheriff from one direction and another car from the opposite direction. They converge at the bus. George, who owns the pond and road gets out of his car to the scent of wafting baked goods. He tells the sheriff, ‘it’s ok, Roy I got this” so the sheriff takes off. George, clearly charmed by the smell of baked goods, the bus, and my girlfriend, just starts grinning ear to ear. She offers him a cake which he takes with love in his eyes. He bites into the cake, with no sugar, no baking powder, no baking soda trying to act normal “Oh”, he says,“ heavy cakes”. He then says, “you kids, follow me. I got a much better place for you on a sand bar next to the Wood River, where you are welcome to stay for the summer”. George became our friend, a great man, a gold miner panning for his fortune. We had many heavy cakes together.

Final Notes:

After all these years I believe this is what the bus could offer you: A way to slow and balanced living, with minimalism as its theme. With Grace it is possible to pull away from the cult of speed. It can be a safe haven from tech intrusion, a center for meditation and inner dimensional exploration. Grace could also serve as a great home for a caretaker, a writer’s retreat, or a shaman’s hut.