Trish & Priscilla
Model:
1977 Bay Window Transporter
Name:
Priscilla is the name of the original owner.
Color:
Reef Blue with white on the cab.
Mileage:
48,448
Motors:
Good question.
Owned since:
2012
Owners:
1977: Priscilla Davis. The previous owner, Scott, bought it from her and sold it to us.
Location:
New Hampshire
Favorite driving song:
I don’t even use my radio—you know the music, it’s brrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhh.
I never thought I would get to have a Bus, so this is a dream. We watched it on Craigslist. Eventually it went down from $2,500 to $1,500, and then Don (my partner) and the little one (our grandkid) went to see it. I went back with them, and we fell in love with the Bus. Don asked the guy, “How much do you want?” And the guy said, “I just need eleven hundred for my tax bill.” We’re like, “Here you go.” That’s how it all started.
The original owner, Priscilla, used to be a seamstress for the Grateful Dead. We found buttons and things like that inside. The person we bought it from asked if we would just keep the name, because that’s what we do with Buses—we honor past owners. So her name stayed Priscilla. Her plate is the FURTHR Bus, a nod to Bob Weir’s band and to honor Ken Kesey’s bus Furthur.
I grew up with Buses. My dad was a V-Dubber. I learned to drive on an oval-window Volkswagen Beetle. When I was fifteen, I said, “Dad, teach me.” And that’s when I learned to hold the clutch in. Once you learn that, then you can drive anything, especially a Bus because they’re forgiving. You’ve got to find that sweet spot on the clutch. I was only fifteen when I got to drive the Beetle with my dad to his wedding when he got remarried. Yup to his wedding. It was so cool. My mom didn’t think so.
Once, my dad and I were on the Kancamagus Highway—that’s what we call The Kanc here. We were all caravanning in our VWs and I was on a very small grade. Everyone stopped and the Bus died. I said to my dad, “I don’t know how to do this, so you better help me.” He taught me how to pop it. I had to roll a little, and I only had one foot before I hit the other Bus. I popped the clutch, and I yelled “I did it!”
My dad passed years ago, and now I share Priscilla with the grandkids. She is the girl grandkids’ Bus. They range from seven to thirteen. We pull it into the garage and do double camping with the green Bus (Don’s Bus) and this Bus. We back one in and put them door-to-door. We decorate with lights and tapestries and make it a little festival for them. It’s fun.
I have had a couple of people pass, and the best way to grieve is ugly crying in a Bus—because nobody knows what to do. And you start to laugh. I can’t explain it, but even if you’re in the worst mood, I just sit in the Bus and it makes me laugh. They’re just fun. They’re contagious. People smile.
This kid kept kept stopping because he loved our Buses. One day he asked if he could make us something for his senior project in plasma cutting. I gave him a project. He made it out of cast iron, and it even turns. He didn’t know what it was. And I didn’t tell him until after he made it. He’s a wonderful kid. One of our adopted motor heads.
In ’95, when Jerry died, Dan Webb started Jerry Jam. He started doing a little festival at his property with forty people. And it grew. Our first year, 2012, I was vending art and we got to meet him. The next year, I vended more art, and Dan and I started talking. He said, “If you can find more Buses to come, Buses get in for free.”
So that’s when I started my quest. We started with 8 Buses, and I got up to 160-something after four or five years. There’s not a lot to do in New Hampshire with your Bus. You can go to a couple shows, but hey, can you go to music for free? Heck yeah. And even kids are free. It is a fun, family-friendly place.
We have a great tribe now. They’re electricians. They’re engineers. They’re big wigs that spent all of their college years on Haight Street out there in California, listening to The Dead. They grew up with it and didn’t know how they could get back to it. I just reconnected them through Jerry Jam. They think Wow, we get in free. And we get to do this. It’s a cool, cool community. It really is.
Lots of single chicks have Buses now. They left their husbands and kids behind, and now they have a dog and a Bus. I invite them to Jerry Jam. It’s free. I say, “Just drive there. You don’t even have to go listen to the music, just listen in your Bus.” I had some women show up and just read a book. They never even left their Bus, but they like the camping. They like the environment.
Don works on the Buses here at Catamount Bus Stop. We have DreamCycle, the Bay Window. It’s called DreamCycle, because it’ll never be anything but a dream. The next Bus is called Miss Wisconsin because it was from Wisconsin. It’ll be getting refurbished, just not here at Catamount. And of course, Priscilla. Out here, you’ve got collectors that have ten to fifteen Buses. And they aren’t getting any younger, the Buses or the collectors. Every Bus needs a good home. There are lots of Buses out there. The Bus will find you.
She’s in great shape. We have babied her, never repainted her, just added paint and Bondo. And I added sparkles. These things still run on bubblegum and duct tape.
This is a classic Bus, a Bay Window is classic. I love the big window and listening to your motor—they just pop and fart all the way. Just, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop. I love that sound. That is music. That’s happiness. I don’t even use my radio—you know the music, it’s brrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhh.
It has one of those nice big tractor steering wheels. I look so cool. The manual steering . . . I love the workout of driving a Bus and the fact that you can turn a tight corner and you can park right up against the building because you have no nose.
When I met Don, I was a tattoo artist. Then three years later, I got diabetes and I couldn’t hold the machine. And then my eyes kind of went. I was heavy and I didn’t care. I was a happy, healthy fat girl. The medicine wasn’t working, so I found a certain strain of cannabis and exercise and water, water, water. And fasting. I’ve lost 137 pounds in the last three years. And kept it off. Brought my diabetes from 9.7, which means I need insulin, down to 6.2. And soon I won’t be diabetic. I’m thankful every day. And Don and I know to make every day count.
We either go to music or we make music. I was never a Deadhead, although I did go to the Dead concerts when I was younger. I like all music. It doesn’t matter who we are seeing, I do it for the social part. Don does it for the music. He loves music. I just like to show off the Bus and invite the musicians into the Bus.
One year the festival made 350 “I Know Trish” stickers. Everybody wanted one. Then the next year they made one saying “Trish Knows Moi,” because a whole bunch of Canadians were coming down. Everybody used to say, “I know, Dan, I can get into this festival.” Now, they say, “I know Trish, I can get into the festival.” So that started the “I Know Trish” sticker. Then this past year I had a shirt saying “I Know Trish,” and Don got one saying “Where’s Trish?” So it’s just an ongoing, really cool thing and an honor to be with this tribe.
Photographer’s note: Usually she starts but not today. So we photographed her right where she was.