Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, July 31, 1993 TAG: 9307310042
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-1 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: ROBERT FREIS STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Or, you can do what he did. Put your home on wheels and take it wherever you go.
"We can wake up every morning and see something different," he says.
Robertson's not bragging, but he's mighty proud of his converted bus, which has all the comforts of home . . . and more.
He's a member of a special group within the Family Motor Coach Association that will drive customized buses to the national convention in Blacksburg this week.
Robertson, who lives in Elliston, is an affable man who smiles appreciatively when told that the FMCA considers bus or "coach" converters as their own separate breed.
After all, bus converters were the pioneers of FMCA back in 1963 before the days when manufacturers mass-produced recreational vehicles.
In those days, if you wanted a cushy ride down the road, you had to build your own motorized castle.
Now, FMCA says the coach converters make up only about 6 percent of its 90,000 members. Most of the motor home crowd buy RVs ready-made.
But the coach converters like to express their individuality. "Every one is different," said Robertson, indicating a formation of shiny customized buses parked at the Salem Civic Center, where the group is holding a pre-rally before the national convention begins Tuesday.
"You can put anything in it you want. It's a world all your own."
Each FMCA vehicle has to have certain self-contained basics - an internal motor, a septic system and living quarters with six feet of headroom.
Robertson's customized 1964 GMC bus, called the "Virginia Creeper," has a doorbell with electronic chimes.
And more embellishments. Air conditioning, two TVs, stove, fridge, sink, microwave, ceiling fans, double bed, sofa, shower.
It is, indeed, nicer than many homes. To Robertson, it's just "livable, not fancy."
Livability was Robertson's main specification when he bought the bus for $9,000 about five years ago and drove it down to Greensboro to be customized.
Until then, it was your basic charter bus with 41 seats that had carted thousands of church groups and high school bands and such across the country.
After Robertson stripped out the seats and luggage racks, the bus "looked like a big empty boxcar."
Several months and much cosmetic surgery later, Robertson was in the driver's seat of a new mobilized home.
He says it drives great. "These things were built to run on the highway. You can run with the big boys."
It has power steering and a converted automatic transmission, gets about 7.5 miles per gallon of diesel fuel and weighs about 27,000 pounds. Robertson said he parallel parked it one time in just one try.
"It's real restful. You can drive all day and not get tired."
Before buying the bus, Robertson fixed up antique cars as a hobby, Hudsons in particular. He says an old-car buddy got him interested in FMCA.
Although it costs less money to fix up the old buses yourself, Robertson said, he and his wife, Doris, decided that farming out the work was "cheaper than a divorce."
"I do what I can, but I leave hammer tracks. If you're not a little bit mechanically inclined, you can get into trouble" when converting old buses.
Converting a bus is more difficult than building a house, FMCA says, yet it's a popular undertaking. Of its members who drive converted buses, nearly half did most or all the work themselves, FMCA says.
Several year ago, FMCA's magazine had a 13-part, how-to series on bus conversion, and the organization is still getting requests for reprints.
You don't need a special license to drive a converted bus. If you don't have a lot of time or a wealth of mechanical knowledge to do it yourself, you will need a healthy bank account.
Robertson estimated some of the buses headed for Blacksburg this week cost between $250,000-$450,000. "You'd be surprised at how fancy and nice they are."
Up to now, Robertson, who works for Norfolk Southern, and his wife, who works for General Electric, have used the bus for brief vacation trips.
Both will retire in several years and plan to use the bus as a retirement home on wheels. They're already thinking of being on the road for six to eight months each year, and of all the money to be saved without motel bills or restaurant food.
"If you own one of these, you have to eat cheap," he laughed.
This week he had a much shorter drive to the FMCA National Convention than most, just up the hill from his home.
It gave Robertson the chance to swap stories about gear ratios and other issues common to this unique group, who have figured out a way to satisfy their wanderlust without leaving home any farther behind than a quick stroll down the aisle.
by CNB