L.A. Here We Come!
Rum was the best drink in the world, having drank bottles of the stuff the night before, I was hangover free, and woke up bright and early, packed my bags, tied the apartment (sort-of) and headed up to the bus to load up. I chucked my bits onto the bus and worked on the ?re-departure checks with Martin. We straped one of our push bikes we had acquired as an emergency bike, if we broke down, to the back of the bus. Filled 2 large containers with water incase we broke down in the desert! Had a spare battery, changed the spark plugs, given the engine a once over, and we were ready to roll. Paddy walked round the corner, with his hungover face on, he looked like shit, and probably felt like it too. He was with Gera, he had spent the summer working on the far pier, far away from civilization. A tall guy who we hadn't really seen much, but Paddy and Keith knew him well, and their word was good enough for me. Iain turned up with his new friend, a 5ft giant dog he had finally won from the boardwalk games. Was he seriously thinking about taking that thing to LA!!? Yes he was, and after a few words, it was decided that he would sit on it, and none of us, especially me and Biggles could not be held responsible for molestering it. The girls had arrived after cleaning the apartment and securing our deposits back good on them! Elaine, Keith and Kira were the last to arrive, all three with killer hang overs and I thought the Irish could handle their drink!
Geth had ripped up a pizza box and stuffed the packaging down the side of the cage it read ?od bless America - he said it would bring us luck. A miniature Elvis was hanging from the front windscreen, everyone was aboard. We all cheered as the bus rolled off the yard and onto the road, a few people were here to wave us off, and that was it, the adventure began.
Sat at the helm of a huge monster of a machine, with 15 people watching me handle the beast was a daunting feeling. It felt like I was taking my driving test again! My nerves soon settled as we left the outskirts of the town. Martin was sat in the co-pilots seat, which used to be the guards chair, outside of the main prison cage. He was navigating, or attempting to anyway, trying to find our way to the first stop on the prison bus road trip Washington D.C. About 60 miles into the 3500mile adventure, we hit our first problem, literally. I took a turning off the freeway, moved my foot over to the brake pedal, applied bit of pressure, then a bit more... oh fuck! Traveling about 50mph in a 28ft bus going round a corner, with no brakes is a frighting experience, fucking frightening. Everyone in the back cheered at my speedy antics of taking a corner at speed, treating the bus like a racing car, but I was in no mood to laugh, and if they knew what I did, they wouldn't be laughing either! Martin sensed something was wrong, and I quietly muttered to him that I couldn't stop the bloody thing. Out of gear, we eventually slowed and started to come to a stop, when something dropped off the bottom of the bus and started scarping along the road. The bus stopped, everyone got out to investigate, but to be honest, I couldn't give a rats arse if the exhaust had fallen off, the bloody brakes failed and we were lucky to be alive!!
Martin crawled under the bus and ripped about 8ft of exhaust pipe off from the undercarriage, we didn't need it. I told Martin about the brakes, and we had a quick brain storm of what to do. 15 people had built up their hopes on this road trip, and we had a long long way to go! We had stopped the bus at the front of some blokes house, and a prison bus with 15 tourists on would instantly raise curiosity, so we were greeted by the local. He offered to dispose of the exhaust for us, which was nice of him, but if he hadn't of, it would have been left on his front lawn anyway. We decided to take it very carefully, using the hand brake and the gears to take us to the nearest garage and get some brake fluid. It was Martin's turn to drive, I still had shit in my pants.
About 5 miles down the road, we slowly pulled into a garage, I had explained to everyone that we had a slight problem with the brakes, but bit of fluid in the system and should be sorted. We brought a couple of bottles of brake fluid, topped up the tank and had a look under the bus. To our horror, there was a gaping hole in one of the brake pipes. This had to be sorted if we were to make it, no ifs no buts, it had to be fixed. We asked around and found there was a bus garage about 15miles away, so we set off, it was my turn again to drive. With the brake fluid topped up, and a bit of magic duct tape wrapped round the pipe, we set off. We estimated we could make about 3 stops before it would fail again. With a bit of careful driving, the gearbox having a bit of a kicking, and the hand brake, we managed drive without the need for the brake pedal, it was for emergencies only! On the way we passed a large haulage yard, so thought we would pop in and ask if they sold brake lines, they didn't, but they did sell some heavy duty rubber tubing and a dozen jublie clips. It was better than the duct tape, but wouldn't hold for long! The store man told us we would never buy a brake pipe for a bus this old anywhere, we didn't share his optimism, so set off again. A few more miles down the road, and we spotted a car shop, and thought we would try our luck. It must have been the 5 Irish guys and girls on the bus, but we had some luck, they sold brake pipes. We needed to replace a piece about a foot long, all they had was a 3ft pipe, it would do, we would make a fancy coil with it! The shop kindly let us borrow some tools off the shelves and me and Martin replaced the brake pipe in their car park out the front while everyone went for food. About 30mins later, covered in sweat, brake fluid, mud and general shit, the job was complete. Sarah returned with some food for me, a Wendy's, my hands were filthy, but I was hungry, and it was gone in seconds. We were on our way again, better luck this time! D.C here we come!
Written by Richard Smith
