Skillfully I will work my way around the coach with a wipe rag and copious amounts of elbow grease, pull it outside, and immediately watch the dirt and trash of man coat it again.
It is my very own personal Black-hole of the Bus Community.
This time the normal grime was accompanied with a healthy dose of green tree pollen so yesterday I decided to wash the bus. It is important to not my bus washing does not involve a hose or soapy water. I only do that if the bus has special dirt on it like road salt or mud or some kind of unusual grime.
One thing I absolutely hate about bus ownership is washing the beast. It is not on my top ten list or any bucket list available anywhere, and this includes “Camping World.” This time I got one of them “Epiphany” things you are always hearing about.
Today, quite by accident I discovered that I am pretty much entrenched in Old Fartdom. That name is as good as any I suppose, as I am fairly sure this is not “my Golden Years” period of life. If it is, then they are going to LOVE ME at the home.
I suspect it is human nature to ignore the obvious signs for the maximum time possible, but yesterday I found I could no longer lie to myself. After fetching my washing materials, bucket, rags, ladder, I notice everything’s starting to click for me … My knees, my elbows, my neck.
Using a five gallon pail of water, a washing brush and a long pole. I wet the brush and start at the top where it curves into the roof and wash all the way down in 4 foot sections. I go around the bus, loosening whatever is stuck on the bus. Some of the dust and dirt gets flushed to the floor of the garage, the rest is loosened and within seconds the water drops the material onto the floor.
After the above phase of the procedure is completed, I get out my 10 foot step ladder and I dry the coach from the top curve of the side panels all the way down to the point at the bottom of the windows. I can do 4 or 5 foot sections at a time before I climb down and move the ladder. When I am done with that phase I move the ladder aside and start drying from the windows down to the bottom of the bays.
What I describe is a lot of stretching, bending, climbing, lifting and moving.
Yesterday it took place in 1.5 hours (roughly) which is pretty normal for when I was 50. But I am not and today I know I am firmly centered in Old Fartdom. I am so sore that even my hair aches. In fact it is a wonder I don’t have aching teeth. Everything else aches, so why not. It would not surprise me that I will have different parts of me waking up at different times tomorrow morning.
Yet today if the weather allows later on, I am going to try to wash my wife’s car and my pickup truck, and that event will involve a ladder, hose and soapy water plus the drying of the vehicles. I’m praying for rain right now.
If I ever win the lottery and can afford something like this, I think it would be best to just go out in the backyard and have the wife shoot me. I am getting way too old for this stuff.