'It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine' - R.E.M.

A long time ago in a desert, far away....

"It is a period of vehicular tragedy. The old stepvan, now letting steam out of the head gasket, strikes a death blow hidden from under the hood, having previously won many victories against the evil Galactic Interstate System. During the recent battle, the new diesel engine I had just installed would steal secret plans to ruin my trip, the DEATH SMOKE, forged from the heat of the combustion chamber with enough power to destroy an entire engine.

Pursued by the Engine’s sinister agents, Thermostat refuses to open inside it’s radiator home aboard her plumbing, custodian of the stolen plans, only a new truck can save the trip and restore transportation to Burning Man…."

Shortly into the trip, the T-20 Chevy step van met its demise while trying to climb the dreaded 405 freeway while trying to escape from Los Angeles. With the smell of antifreeze fresh in the air, the mood for the day had been set. The high nickel HUM-V engine block I recently installed had quickly come to a tragic end.

In this moment of tragedy, a new hero would have to emerge if we were going to make it to Burning Man. Quick in my thinking, I looked to the ancient writings of Craigslist and found a 2001 Freightliner step van with only 8000 miles on it. Well mighty in stature, it had little battle experience. However, when I looked under the hood and saw the 24 valve Cummins fortified by an Allison transmission I knew victory in battle was all but guaranteed.

I convince this titan to come home with me, quickly loaded it with the contents of the fallen warrior and hastily continued our trip with little regard for what the future might hold.

The old stepvan, now injured from battle was destined for the scrap yard, because I was just tired of his shit. After feeding him 5 starters, three injection pumps, a new engine and enough electrical repairs to make Murphy himself envious, the guillotine awaited. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times however for the P 20 the latter is all would know.

As I began to cannibalize its body parts of its minerals and fluids, it occurred to me, that the old P 20 was about 6 inches narrower than the new Freightliner. In an irrational moment of inspiration, it occurred to me, that with some modification I could fit the rear of the old step van inside the new step van and create a pop out. While this had been done by the Giants among men in the RV manufacturing empires, this was a lofty goal for mere mortal like myself.

Stripped of its parts, lying bare naked, it would be further degraded as I sold off its axles and steering parts. From the top of the mountain known as my shop, I could see deep into the heart of the solid yet naked corpse below me. Old and tired from a lifetime of labor, unbeknownst to him, he was about to face his final demise as a plasma cutter would cut up what was left of him into small pieces so he could be ground up for recycling.

The rear end removed, and placed in the shop, this project was far more complicated than it first appeared. The body had to be shortened by 7 inches and the doors by four. Now, no longer receiving the support of the frame below, the floor was weak, tired and horribly sagging. The solution involved a lot of reinforcement and modifications that only 1/8” aluminum sheet had a chance of combating. Further strength was call upon in the form of hundreds of rivets, and aluminum welding become a mainstay. Just as it looked like victory was assured, Joe the goblin entered the picture.

The shelves, which previously existed in the old step van purely to hold the precious cargo, would have to be completely redesigned and built in such a way that it became a structural aspect of the newly emerging pop out.

After a jump in time, the new pop out salvaged from the old warrior, can be seen slid in place. While the triumphant battles were many, the war could not be won until the weather sealing was perfected. This ultimately came in multiple forms even including an inflatable bladder. Finally, a wizard from the clan Vulcan would provide some EPDM roofing material that would fortify the gaps.

From the top of the world, the power of electricity is harvested from the Sun God to the tune of 1200 W. ​​​​​​​

Deep in the caverns, alchemy of electricity is played with and converted for storage and exploitation. Mechanical gods and electrical ninjas use this sacred resource is a vital lifeblood in their survival. Wired for 50 A shore power, with a backup generator it is ready for whatever off grid adventures may be asked of it.

Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, 60 pounds a propane are stored deep in its bowels. Ready at a moment’s notice, bacon can be cooked to perfection. On the cold winter nights that try men’s souls, a diesel powered heater feeds from the fuel tank.

Ready for the hungry hordes, the kitchen is the unsung hero of the day.

Over the shifting of the tides, the once dimensionally accurate hanging cabinets I made now march to a different drummer. However, my food is still secure and the whiskey comfortably in its chambers.

If you have made it this far in our adventure I would like to give you the opportunity to take a shit.

Please return to your seats, as the intermission is ending.

With numerous adventures far from the lifeblood of rivers, it was necessary to take the hydration with us. A custom frame, forged from steel is to be mounted to the frame. Within its cradle it will support 80 gallons of life-sustaining liquids.

Deep under the floor, the water tank and pump have take comfort in their new permanent home. To the left is the 40 gallon graywater tank which was violently plucked from the old P 20 step van. Forced into submission it is shackled and bound where can never again freely wander.

As we travel to the end of the almighty poop shoot, we stumble upon the custom-made 20 gallon black water tank. Short on space but the need vital, I had to fabricate what could not be purchased.

As can see above, 4 deep cycle batteries which are joined by their four other siblings in the rear of the truck, provide the needed power when the Sun God goes into hiding.

With seating for four, or five, or six… Depending upon how friendly you are feeling… This gathering establishment converts to a bed.

As the mighty doors opened, we can see deep into the cave. Don’t let its inviting demeanor fool you into dismissing its devious nature.

Transformed in appearance, with the spirit to follow, the entire exterior  aesthetic is immortalized in 2 gallons of latex exterior house paint.

Heading off on a great adventure, it pulls the mighty trailer with th Atomic Café along for the ride.

The bumper of stock, was lame in appearance. I was forced to call upon the welder as I made a more suitable adornment that I trust upon its front end.

With no place to put the spare tire I coerced it into being front and center for all to see. Encircled in its protector, Imortum Joe leads the way.

With the streamlined nature of a brick, this road warrior makes no excuses. Feeling that my companion need to be further protected, I covered its vulnerable Windows with a coat of armor. With ladders installed, it simplified the crusade to where the solar panels worshiped the Sun God.

After a brutal day of hundred 113° temperatures, it became painfully apparent that survival in the cab was a battle what I had no desire to repeat. I coated all the windows in sun blocking film as if laughing at the rays. I further clad the majestic window with some black acrylic I laser cut to further shield myself from that which was trying to kill me. Above the window, I mounted lights, that would provide their own ray of light in an ironic twist that may appear directly in opposition to my previous endeavors.

Off to the battle freeways once more. For a road warrior may never know peace. 

You may also like

Back to Top