another day in the life...of the Whale

So, perhaps i had jinxed myself by having written that lovely post about how i had everything in the whale dialed and perfect and life was grand and nothing broken and....

well, she's broke

in the scheme of things it could be worse, but hot diggity i was unsure of the two of us making it home together today

let me set the scene, it's 9:30 am on a saturday morning, late enough i don't worry i'll disturb all the sleeping beauties of the neighborhood with the roaring engine of the bus as she warms up (i know, courteous right?)
so i flip the all powerful switch that on/offs the battery, check the battery charge gauge...nothing...
being optimistic, i slip the key in the ignition and give it a turn. nada.

ok, so i've been here before, dead battery, bus that needs to move, 'shit'/shit to be relocated, so i get out my handy dandy jumper cables (remember the ones i've been so proud to NOT use), pull my truck up nice and close to the bus and charge that bad boy (that's right, i'm sure the battery must be male while it seems that i tend to say 'she' when it comes to the bus, quick, someone call freud stat!)

ok, so now she's running. see, there i go again..SHE...
what i have forgotten to mention, which may have no consequence as to the proceedings, is that prior to even attempting to start the bus, i noticed a small pool of something that does not seem to be gas, but does not smell like oil underneath the bus, fishy i says to myself...also have i mentioned this is a sparkly new enormous battery that should not be failing. double hmmmmm.

La ballena and i make it to WA rest area MP 11 (as per the usual) to 'unload' without much worthy of note (except it's a gorgeous day out might i add)
While there, i decide...for reasons only 76% knownst to me...that i will NOT shut the bus off while emptying it though i feel it should be charged enough by this point (score: 1 point for self).

I stop at a nearby gas station to buy some oil (what can i say, she's a whale, SHE needs it ) and i turn the key, kill the bus and low and behold, she's dead. Not even a lil' glug glug when i try and get her to start again. well shitballs i says to meself.

So i coerse an innocent guy with a truck to help me start my bus. He is not happy about this but begrudgingly agrees. thank you oh grumpy one. He pulls up his Truck with a captial T to my bus and after a few minutes of grumbling and yelling at how he's late and about to run out of gas and how i should just get this thing towed and fixed...she starts. YES! Challah for Allah! i will not be stuck in Washington on this day of days when i'm supposed to be finishing my final prep to leave for Burning Man!

The minute she jumps to life, he throws off the jumper cables and slams my door shut and drives away, slightly acknowledging my continued thank yous and sheepish looks of IOUs.
and like that, he's gone and the bus is running.

So out i pull onto the highway and head back to ptown, basically praying the entire time to the marine gods of land that me and the whale just make it home to our street spot on alberta.
...and we almost did.

but wouldn't fate have it, that a measley 6 blocks from home, while waiting to turn left, she just up and dies...i mean sure there were a few sputters but mostly just straight quit, poor old girl.

So now i sit, ridiculously close to home in the middle of side street. Time for friend making hooray~! Luckily this time i met a portlander, damn they're so nice! So Steve, thank you thank you steve, fellow graduate from Missoula Montana. Jumped my bus (this time it took WAAAAaaaAAAYYY longer and i fearerd that mr tow truck was not far in my future) but she hummed to life and brilliant wonderful caring Steve followed my home to make sure she didn't die on me again. I hugged him. I was so grateful at this point that just straight up told him i HAD to hug him and ran around his car and did it.

And now she sits, 12 hours before leaving for Burning Man, with 2 days between my return from the desert and departure for india... oy what a whale.

in the end here's what i think

Dear Steve, you were the rockstar of my day and savior of my faith in jumper cable humanity.

Dear mean guy from the Washington gas station, thank you soo much for getting me the fuck out of there. i hope i did not cause you too much inconvenience and that my consistently overly niceness atleast helped to dull the knife wounds that helping me with the bus was so obviously inflicting. but all the same, Thank You.

Dear La Ballena, i still love you, but damn if you don't give me a run for my sanity sometimes.

Dear alternator, let it be so simple as that you are broke and need fixin and are cheap cheap cheap.

Dear Japanese Maple Tree outside my house, Thank you for having the most amazing sunlight glistening through your leaves that i lay under this afternoon to regain my sanity and sense of wonder and calm.

Otay, to the Playa! to be a shenanigangsta!

11 months and change

Holy moly how time flies when you're having fun, freezing yer ass off, listening to the pitter patter of rain or the louder than life hoodlums walkin down the street in the weeee hours of morning...

...when you finally conquer most of the things that are broken on your home, find a driveway next to a garden you can tend, learn just where on the roof feels the most solid, have a sharp eye for finding that fantastic symbol on park signs that means you can totally 'lose your shit' here....somewhere ...


...when driving the beast to WA mile post 11 is a seamless trip that equates more to rockin out and karaoke time in the sunset than a 2 hour stint of white knuckles and carefully calculated wheel-lane position...

...when your adorable kitty kat knows that 'Home is where the Whale Is' (and her collar/tag says so too!), when you haven't used the jumper cables (a most AMAZING gift, thank you Snapper and Scoot) in months!

...when summer months make for the best sleeping weather, early morning wake ups to the sun and breeze inches from your face, and perfect evenings spent with the front door wide open, when housesitting for your parents actually feels claustrophobic instead of spoiling because you're occupying a structure that's so HUGE-MUNGOUS!

...when you've wintered nights cold enough and/or wet enough that almost any temperature between the months of april and september will seem DIVINE! and when your head hits the pillow in the back corner of the sleeping mats on the uphill side and your body knows it's home...

...when telling people you live in a small motorbus comes naturally but still evokes a grin, when you've more than broken even with the costs you would've paid renting an apartment all this time (repairs included, but maybe not gas...hmmm), but you have a sweet WHALE to show for it...

...when you realize you've spent nigh a year living mobile-style AND haven't gotten towed yet (knock woood!)....

...when you realize that most people (in portland) are totally into your self-experiment and support your adventure completely...or atleast support your level of crazy perhaps...

...when ideals fade into realism and survival and then find their way back to ideals with a slightly different flavor, when there is a slight wait-list for 'whenever i decide to sell that beautiful beast'...

...when you are so busy and engaged in real life, and not simply surviving, to feel it unnecessary to blog about La Ballena...

that's when time has found its wings and you realize you've been a bird with sky high views all along.

cheers to 48+ weeks in La Ballena!

Nothing to do with the cutest bus ever, but needing to document that I don't belive I've ever walked as far barefoot as I did tonight and oy my soles

Is it sad or awesome to put on bugspray before going to bed? I vote awesome.

More fun photos!

So, for those who haven't taken a tour of the interior of my bus, here's a small dose (also included coolest bus kitty to ever stalk the earth)

Taken by Snapper quite graciously ;) Thanks Snaps!

oh yeah! and also a small picture of my second tow warning. those days are over! what's up now bright alien green superglue infused notices!

I moved I moved!

Two weeks ago and change, i moved to a new locale with my fancy pants bus and cooool kitty kat. It's a sweet spot with sweet peeps and it's getting better each day. This is what i wrote a few weeks ago, check it:

First night in whale on alberta and 49th. Just home from couchsurfing meeting regarding soak. Total conundrum of a day. Spent first part feeling displaced and wanting to continue to distance myself from others and just be in my own head though I know it will leave me still craving interaction...enjoying the feeling of unfamiliarity and yet longing for the norm. And then to the couchsurfwrs meeting where I knew no one and yet began to feel connected within
Moments and eventually found myself peeling each fiber of myself away from the fire knowing I must be waking and pedaling in but a few hours. From an introspective introverted move to an overly socialiZed outgoing element which I was hesitant to
Leave, though I know it will cost me come the morning . Say la veeeeee

Night número tres

My new hood is growin on me like greg's beard grows on his face, fast and furiously and with intention.

I am exploring and meeting the neighbors and I think I've even almost met everyone who actually lives in the house whose driveway I am currently inhabiting. And funny, when
I do they are all relatively
Nonchalant about it, like "oh yeah ok, nice to meet you, see you around, off to
Go muck about"...
And that's amaZing and awesome and differnt from
Most of the reactions I've had previously!
Still working on the actual space element as the bus fits nicely between the house and the fence and I
Am
Currently negotiating with an overgrown hedge each time I enter or leave home, not so flash as it means I get stuck
Halfway (like pooh bear in the honey tree) when trying to enter/exit while
Carrying my pack...though it does
Prove to
Be entertaining..to me and the lil' green men that must live in the
Hedge and work to keep
It
Slightly
In
Check
I also
Notice
That the way I'm parked puts my poddy right next to
The kitchen window ...not so
Flash

Two weeks in the northeast, today snapper and andie helped me rearrange the bus and i now have easy entry (just to the bus people!) and a shitter where i can open the windows and stare into the neighbors crazy cedar hedge. and tomorrow we build a chicken coop! yip yip!

Backlog posting

MARCH 27th

Sunny sunny day for march. The day felt long, made of more hours than seem real. Time did
Not quicken this day leaving me with a
Sense of things undone. Instead I chose not to
Do
Them and the day crawled along in no hurry, with no real
Intention of becoming something more than just a
Sunny sunny
Day in march

And I bonded again with my legs and
My bike as one amazing combo pack built for fun and zoom
And greg who is built for fun and chill and overthinking and park picnics

MAY 9th

In the bus yet under a starry sky. Magic.
The world is.
Just "is."
The rain begins but the stars remain.
Those lil' wet drops can rehydrate us, and prevent that inevitable sunshine hangover we're all bound to have following spring's first glorious UV doses.

Think I see the north star. So I'll never be lost. Should I change my name to Majonah or Jonagellan?

Don't know where this belongs, so i'll just put it here

So for the past few weeks, i've been house sitting my parents' house in lovely southeast, with one fantastic whale bus parked out front. There are definite advantages to being in a house. (Like, duh! is what you are all thinking right now ;) Anyhow, more on that later...

This morning, i walked to the store and got some edibles and one awesome butterfly balloon in anticipation for the arrival of one fantastic traveller that is arriving tonight. The balloon is the kind that's waaaaaay too big and kinda see-through and the light glints off of it so well. About half way home (i am on foot with a backpack full of food and one inflated monarch in hand), my ears suddenly miss the sound of mylar bouncing against my side.

The butterfly was hovering, newly freed, a foot or so above my right shoulder, and i let it. I watched it then slowly make its way upward and south bound, in no hurry at all and bouncing and twirling around in the air, the sun catching it occasionally. I followed it south for a few blocks, keeping my eye on this IFO as it wandered higher, making a deal with myself that I would only follow it till Powell (busy busy street of many lanes) and then go home. but i didn't. I followed it across Powell and further south, until it lost its shape to my eyes, eventually becoming a small speck in the sky, and then, after i gazed down for just a moment to greet a woman and her pup, it was gone, flying too high and far away for my eyes to perceive.

It was the best impromptu adventure i've had lately, and it seems so symbolically appropriate.
From the moment the butterfly began to float away, it was instantly in my head what a silly goal it was to try and tie down (with a tiny lil' ribbon) any gorgeous thing that was so clearly meant to fly. And on my extended walk with head tilted toward the sky, realizing that having beautiful things in your life is wonderful...

but those ones that are meant to fly

... you can only follow them as long as you can keep them in sight.

mmmm soggy

i have rarely (if ever) heard rain so hard and consistent in its pelting windblown nature as i did alllll last night and this morning. the sound was so loud that it woke me multiple times and sent me checking for leaks...and luckily each search was unfruitful. holy moly what a rain!

the irony...is that this is what i wrote in my journal yesterday afternoon after a day of walking around and running errands in the wet droplets...

'Drops make ripples which cascade into each other only to yield to a new drop. Tis the rain's disco dance upon the puddle that adorns the crack where the sidewalk meets the street. The street that humans made to protect us from the earth. Why are people so afraid of the world? Why do we hide inside of structures when it rains instead of under the heavy boughs of trees? Perhaps it is because we've cut down most of the trees that would be big enough to afford us this priviledge, this protection; like a mother covering her child's ears when speaking a truth he is not ready for just yet. And why do we drown out the sound of healthy rain with man-made sounds, as if our cacophony could somehow be more joyous and full of life than the rain upon the earth, in puddles, atop our roofs and jacket hoods and umbrellas if the wind allows it. Why do we not dance to the sound of the rain, with its changing rhythms and tones? Perhaps some of us do. Those who seek the earth, crave the feel of dirt underfoot and beneath toes, the warmth of sunlight unfiltered by cityscapes and low-lying haze...the silence of the woods, the echo of bird's song with no world-hum... (insert telephone call from Mark and a random comment concerning the rain's other components)
...And no, Mark, I don't think it's acid rain ;) '

go figure, that only hours later, it was I....I who was checking to make sure my little motorbus was keeping the rain OUT...go figure

but i'll tell ya, the reason we hide from the rain, is cuz it's really flippin' wet!
...and i'm still working on my dorsal fins ;)

Spring, I think it's spring!

The battery is shot and the bus won't start.
...but i was gifted jumper cables by Scoot via Snapper so it's all good.
My garage is gone with the wind as are my super subletters
...but my smurfcycle cruiser is nicely locked to the back of the bus in a careening-out-of-control manner bound to look hilarious lest i forget it's there once i jump the bus and drive away.
And it's been below freezing only one morning i can remember over the past week
...and above freezing all the other days, warm enough that i've packed up my sleeping bag and am getting away with only 3 blankets!
And it's still dark when i get home
...but dusk is still in the sky and my mancala board turned tea light holder makes for the most fantastically effective lighting by which to read, write, and play banagrams while drinking after-sushi beers with kristi ;)
And in 2 weeks i'll be living hi class and house sitting at my folks as they travel to italy! twill be a vacation for both of us, though i gotta say,
te amo mi ballena

i love my whale ;)

to spring, warmer weather, and long sunlight creepin in through the windshield~

Numero dos

Second neon green "we're gonna tow your big blubbery whale bus sticker STAT" sticker duelly noted. Thank you kristi for the clever spotting of the aforementioned overly stick-i-fied notation. And back to the parking lot, sweet sweet blissfully paved non-city-towable parking lot.

wonder if this is a three strikes you're out....or ...third time's a charm kinda situation...

something to ponder ;)

Two WTF moments in Two Days

just for the record,

if you see a motorbus parked somewhere at night, there might be a person sleeping inside of it

and if you happen to jump up on the back rack and try to get a peak through the drawn curtains at the inside of the bus, you might freak out a sleeping kitty and her human companion

...who might mistake the sudden awakening and momentary loss in stability of sleeping surface for something more dramatic than late night peeping toms (i have cinco dinero for anyone who can tell me where that phrase began)

and if you people (who are from louisiana so your license plate says) who must get a look inside late at night ever play the earthquake game again while i am sleeping, i may be forced to pry myself out of my warm sleeping bag and speak harsh words in your general direction and sick my attack cat upon you by the light of ever glowing (if sometimes slightly obscured) moon!

just sayin'....


and just for the record,

when you wake up in a bus during a heavy rain and the sound of one rain drop falling seems louder and more rhythmic than the others, that's because it is.

that's because once that raindrop finds a way INSIDE your bus, the sound waves it creates are completely unmuffled by a rooftop surface and even perhaps amplified by the fact that it is falling within a very small enclosed space!

and sleep and dreams are made more interesting by the fact that this creative raindrop has managed to sneak its way into your domain through an electrical outlet in the ceiling

... it's like i'm living in a hairdryer in the bathtub scenario getting ready to play out its final scene in a so bad it's good alfred hitchcock creation

previously i stated that my bus is a sitcom, but perhaps it will become something more akin to a made for TV movie

perhaps then i'll have to get a TV so i can see about my life...and watch the Amazing Race show so that Tony and i can win it one day ;)

Inside acoustics

Pitter patter pitter patter.
Drip drop drip drop.
I cannot imagine or fabricate a sound any better to come home to, to cuddle up with.
Turn the radio off;
the rain plays on.

From some night a few weeks ago

Ode to a haiku

Cuddled up cozy
Kitty wants outside to play
I say no to this

For now, it is late
Sleep and dreams are for having
Like wine on Friday

Only it's Thursday
Pounding echoes soft rain drops
The roof holds solid

Nick drake drones softly
To a background of street hum
And dim bus lighting

February chill
Ain't so cold compared to march
When we save daylight

Nothing beats sweaters
Made of wool and magic love
Except for ice cream

Scooped on beach boardwalks
Each drip saved from the pavement
Toes drawn towards sand

And water, at first
It's cold, like our cone fillings
With its own flavor

Here it showers roofs
And feet unclad from the wet
Less intentional

First flowers are up
Mistaken by brief sun breaks
But still I like them

Like the idea
Of bus living in summer
Can't come soon enough

For windows open
Chillin by moby dick's tale
And beers on the porch

My bus is a sitcom

And so it continues, the saga that is my 'house'
so it finally got into its appointment at the shop to possibly, probably, knock-on-wood-hopefully repair the gas tank by whatever means appropriate...this was tuesday morning...
and after all this time of 'oh so intentionally' NOT driving the bus, the shop informs me that i MUST empty the holding tank before they can work on it.
one side of my brain is thinking, damn waste of time i've spent not emptying it in order to preserve what has been newly cleaned and fixed...
the other side of me is thinking, fuck i'm sorry guys, that IS shitty...so to speak...oy!
So Tuesday night, very luckily aided oh so kindly by my grand pal Snapper (no, names have NOT been changed to protect the innocent...and not that that would apply anyhow;)
...we picked up the bus on SE Foster and headed along 82nd, along 84 East, and then merged onto the sea of brake lights that was clearly I-5...holy shitballs batman! it was pre-holiday, post-rush hour ridiculous traffic. my favorite. said the girl who doesn't even drive a normal sized vehicle on side streets.

were it not for snapper as co-pilot, my ridiculously dramatic sighs and wheel gripping wouldn't have been nearly as entertaining...

Luckily i had checked for a closer location to empty my home (as previously i have been driving to WA exit 11 just north of vancouver...go free rest area!) so we pulled off I-5 waaaaay sooner than usual at the jantzen beach exit after many passenger assisted lane changes (at approximately 3 miles an hour) thinking, sweeeet, no more of that interstate bullshit, we'll be there in a heartbeat and back into town in no time.

So finding the Rv park only took turning around once or twice and stopping at one convenience mart for directions. not bad ;)

once there, go figure, office closed. huh, no marking of dump site on the map of this lovely large trailer park. curious. can't be so hard to find....she said naively...

after touring the park quite inconspicuously and meticulously, seeing lots of double wides with christmas lights, and finding each unmarked dead end...nada...nothing. so much for this being the closer, easier, less time consuming option i'm thinking, to myself and out loud.

Back toward the entrance (which was also not easy to find as the trailer park is set up akin to Walmart or Ikea where you have to pass everything to quite inefficiently get from point A to point B, basically the antithesis to how the crow flies), we decide to consult with other RV owners as they must surely know where this secret dump station exists.

Snapper bravely knocks on a few RV doors, but alas, none are home to answer questions for weary 'travellers!'

We decided to scavenge (or actually re-scavenge, as i have already done this upon our entrance) each site for personalized dumping...so to speak. Snapper, saving the day once again, spots an RV's dump tube set up and we investigate the scene, reverse the whale and pull into a site (incognito style) and prepare to dump!

So the sites were hidden near a pole in most, but not all sites, partially buried beneath beauty bark (not a bad idea really); i hook it all up, pull the plug, and that lovely WHOOOOSHH sound fills my ears as the waft of ...well, you know...overcomes the smell of beauty bark if only for a moment...

SUCCESS!!!!!!

it was additionally lovely to know that the entire black/gray water tank/pipes/system had not been damaged (atleast to any extent apparent to m e at this time) during the deeeep freeeze that solidified anything and everything in my bus that had any inkling toward water content.

i swear a big grin crossed my face at this time that felt quite sheepish ;)

next, as is customary, i look for a hose with which to clean everything out and off with...no hose in sight, but there is a small spicket just nearby.
I begin to slowly turn it on...nothing...i wait. i can hear it trying. i slowly turn it up and a small trickle begins to crawl from the mouth of the ground level spicket, i turn it up more, more, still a trickle, growing maybe to a steady stream of a few ounces per minute...i crank it more, more, still hoping....
Then i bend down to look and see if anything is blocking it...no just kidding, I didn't do that; that would just be downright cartoonish...
but eventually the water did break through whatever blockage was occurring and explosively covered my shoes and pants with lovely agua...which i then used to clean out the piping, at this point completely carefree about the fact that my feet were wet and my fingers numb. i mean at this stage, it was all comedy, no holds barred!!!

so, with our mission complete, we headed out of the park, a new unintentionally FREE dump site discovered (probably only after 5pm when the office is closed and the park is dark), though at this point it felt like we earned it!

so back we drove, lightning quick it seemed at 45 mph in non-crazy traffic; reparked the bus at Mac's Radiator, and headed into town to the Slammer, to fulfill our Tuesday evening tradition at long last...better late than never.

Besides, at this point, i think i owed Snapper a drink, and needed one myself!
Cheers to whalin' adventures and another step in what is hopefully the right direction ;)

Step Next

carbeurator nirvana has been reached (whether i can spell it or not).
now i need a rust-free gas tank
do you think santa's elves could figure that one out for a lil' non-christian gal?
that's all i want for christmas
...besides, i'm SO over that whole two front teeth bit ;)

On bus conversation

Funny the reactions people have to me living in a motorbus.

*Non-plussed, cuz hell, it's just where you live
*Shocked...because who'd want to live in a bus?
*Concerned, seeing as how i still have a job, i must be needing to save more to feed my secret cocaine addiction
*Excited, because they too have contemplated such things
*Increasingly friendly...because i too am apparently homeless and now belong to a bit of a club

And the most common as of late: you can always crash at my place ;)

Funny how some people avoid my eyes when i'm sitting on the edge of the stoop of the bus, as if to acknowledge me would somehow insinuate they approve, or perhaps i just make them nervous.

And funny how all the different reactions i've received don't necessarily match my prediction for those whose mouths they eminate from

And it never gets old, i am still quite entertained to tell people i live in a 1975 Travco..."a what?"
oh yeah baby ;)

Revised view on cold weather

After one week with decreasing temps, i revise (momentarily) my viewpoint.

When i can't make tea because my water jug is thoroughly solidly frozen...which makes pouring water into the pot rather tricky...

When there is no amount of layers or time in my sleeping bag that erases the aching and burning in my fingers and feet...

When my poor claustrophobic kitty kat is sleeping INSIDE of my sleeping bag with me at night (classically taking up waaaayyy more space than should be legal)....

When my 'kitchen' faucet has an icicle hanging from it though the pipes have been long frozen...

And when i'm nervous to even use my imagination regarding my 'evacuation system'...

Then, now....i'm using mental imagery and placing myself squarely beach side, baking in sun too hot for comfort, feeling my skin almost burning, and knowing that one day an ice cold margarita will once again sound enticing.

cheers to hot toddies and getting that whale moving! come on carbeurator king, bless me with some sweet loving~

PS my heart, empathy, and any spare gloves go out to anyone sleeping outdoors this night and many others to follow

To the nth degree

If this is December, bring it
A healthy dose of sunshine paired with frosty temps is magic for p-town winter weather!
Yesterday morning was the dawn of the day after the full moon and it was brilliant riding across the Hawthorne bridge amidst the pink sunrise bouncing off all the glass paned buildings lining the west side of the river...
And on this crisp frigidly cold morning, as my eyes were drawn towards the moon and the gorgeous colors (and occasionally to the bridge to be sure I wasn't about to plow into anyone), something caught my eye...so common, yet so out of place . There was a runner crossing the bridge wearing only shorts and a Tshirt. Her legs and arms were a ridiculous shade of red that insinuated far more than increased heartrate. And I thought to myself, my god, that girl is insane!
...this from the girl who lives in a whale bus.

Ode to Fanfarlo!

Some people reward themselves with new clothes or extra dessert, I spoil myself by turning on the bus' radio for few awesome songs; projected through two ceiling speakers and with a huge subwoofer to boot, yet powered by my oh so precious battery...just one more, just one more listen to the day's favorite new tune! Perhaps it's good I live alone, as escape from monotonous overplayed songs can prove difficult in living structures lacking a second room.