Our New Bus: Chapter Four
Now that she’s completely empty, flooring! It’s a good thing Joe and I are working together on this cause I just want to leave everything original on the bus. The ceiling, the flooring, the mirrors, the rivets, LEAVE IT ALL. Joe however, is a bit more practical. Okay, a LOT more practical. He showed me that we needed to lay a sub-flooring of plywood for a multitude of reasons that I just hadn’t thought of; “insulation, noise reduction, having a clean-slate” are just a few. He is one million percent right but I sure did love that original rubber and metal flooring that we had for a minute. Just looking down at it was a flashback of childhood. Not to mention the smell and feel….
PURE NOSTALGIA.
So, we checked for rust, found none, which we expected since she was born in Arizona. We decided to leave her original floor since it would be good for insulating and for noise reduction. We put down plywood right on top for our subfloor. It was fairly simple, yet VERY expensive. (I remember plywood being about $20/sheet. Now its close to $80/sheet.) Measure twice; cut once became our mantra for days. We had very few mistakes, which is good since gold is cheaper than plywood and since most of the cuts were pretty straightforward. Kinda hard to mess it up too badly. (Have I mentioned how very nice it was to have unlimited access to this amazing wood shop?!)
Air-Gun FUN
To attach the plywood to the rubber, we used a nail gun/air compressor. Easy-peasy. and that was the 1st really fun part.
Written Legacy
This was the 2nd really, really fun part. We got out all the sharpies and signed the flooring of the bus. The girls really loved this and it was so fun to see the thought they put into it. (As of this writing, the floors are still plywood and Joe said to me the other night “Every time I pull out the fridge, I see Gwenas signature and it makes me smile”)
I strongly recommend signing your build somewhere. Leaving a legacy for years to come is such an important thing for us humans to do. To leave any sort of proof that we existed. An “I was here”, or a dog-eared bookmark. A part of your story. All pertinent to where you’ve been, who you’ve loved, how you’ve lived, and what chapter of Life you were in at that time. All those those precious moments.
It really, really is the little things.
