What is this. I sense a monstrous, yet marvelous prank. She's free of the muck after all of these years. Did you hose her off, or just let her repose? I sense Zane has a prank in mind. Why now of all times? These are signs of the end of times. The bus rekindled, Cream reformed at least for a few shows. What next? Will I be eating lunch by happenstance with Neal, Jerry, Pig, and the Cadaverous Cowboy next?
-- wingman nalaflow

Hey capn!

What a treat to see that old time capsule of a BUS back in the sunshine! If you stop for a sec and think of the thousands of imaginations that were and still are ignited by tales of the bus hurtling through the space of America on a wing and a prayer with all the Intrepid Travelers aboard, changing the way we think about ourselves, our country, and our culture. Its like "On the Road, Part Two" for the next generation, or Marco Polo crossing the Tetons. Hardly any aspect of how we think today isn't in some way tied to those events, and the people who lived them. I remember the only time I saw Cassady. I was in the Army in SF, and on my way overseas. I saw him on the street in front of the Straight Theater on Haight Street. It was early 1965. He was holding court as I am told he did often, entertaining a crowd of kids, yammering away in a fever pitch. When I realized who it was I remembered having read Kerouac months before and knew this was Duloz, Moriarty, THAT GUY!
I went to Viet Nam with those images in my head. I knew for once and for all that I wasn't alone, there were others too!
Reading Kerouac led me to read Pound, which led me to read Proust, to Ferlinghetti, which led me to read Patchen, which led me to read Burroughs, which led me to others, and on and on, the Exsistentialists, the Nhilists, and to Howl!, and to Kesey, to Camus, to Hammett, all in no particular order. What a colorful life I've had so far!!
That bus holds a special place in my imagination, but I can say it ain't no vicarious thing, it got me moving and on to my own experiences in Tangiers, Paris, Oklahoma City, Denver, Riyadh, New Orleans, and so many other places. It is a living. breathing relic of one of the Great Adventures in Americana!
Long Live Da Bus!


Dude... MAKE my F---ing DAY! YOU are The MAN!
I'm sitting here in China, on a mundane Thursday factory-industrial morning.. and WHAMMO I see THE BUS finally finally being pulled back into the Real World! (whatever that is)
CONGRATULATIONS to Zane and all you great Kids (okay.. graying, perhaps), who launched Forth on this new Expedition!
LONG LIVE FURTHUR! A unifying symbol for us all.
Wild Shit, MoonDust!

Regards from China..
Greg "Token Yankee"


A melding of the old and the young. Old pranksters, like George, setting up the pull rope. Simon, testing the rope. Others come to watch, to film, to help.

Cameras are in full force. Zane, he be dee man, he dah guy, he laying it out, we gonna pull this bus outta here, it gonna go out backwards, no pushing on the grill or the fenders, might cave those suckers in.

Donning his cape and full armor body suit, the ol Capn assumes his former identity as the mild mannered ass kissing, er, kicking, guy we knew and loved to pummel, yes, no other than the Intrepid Traveler, here rescuing his prize possession, one of the most valuable items on the old bus, the heater, this will keep us warm all winter, he says, serious as a wooly bear. Now that's out of the way, let's move this bus.

Come on ye lubbers, put yer backs into it, all together now, PULL PULL PULL!

Oops, that sucker's dug in, we didn't even nudge it ahead, er, I mean behind, not even a foot. It's going to take more than just us. More hands. More pullers.

More laughter. More pictures. More cheering, Izzy's got the spirit, how about you? Don't mind if I do, thanks.

Wait a minute! You're pushing, we're supposed to be pulling, not pushing. We're working against ourselves. Is this a debacle up to the top knot standard? Yes. In that case, let's call on the upper spirits for help. Phil drums them up. Now the bus moves. Moves all the way out of the swamp, past Kesey's grave for a respectful pause, then on to the new rusting spot, next to the corrugated shed.

A move for the masses. A move for the ages. Only damage was to the plastic bubble on top when the bus was pulled under the apple tree and a branch splattered plastic inside, making George duck. He was turning the wheel, keeping the bus headed to its new home. As the hero of the hour he gets the requisite camera and recording pictures and tapes, watch for it on the mystery channel.

Thar she sits, ensconced some say. Others say cover it in Lambert Hendricks and Ross, vinyl perhaps, like a couch, presarve our peaches. Then another asks, what do you think Zane will do with it now? Someone replies, maybe he'll tow it behind the other Further to the 40 year acid test reunion in Vegas. Yeah, that gets a thumbs up from everyone, all we need is a bean bag and a sleeping bag. Where's that signup sheet?

Yeah, sure! Wink wink. Nudge nudge.