Clifford the Big Red Van

I realized I jumped ahead to our little home in my last post and skipped the unfortunate story that was procuring a car that could handle Northern BCs somewhat snowy weather.

The day we were leaving Vancouver we had packed all of our belongings into Mr. Bunbury and were puzzling over how to get Clifford (the big red van) up to the mountains as well as I don't drive. Clifford sooned solved the problem or us.

My aunt, a whizz with cars, came over to visit and we off-handedly mentioned that Clifford had been making some strange noises. We weren't too worried about it, that being said this was before we knew anything at all about cars.

"What kind of noise?"

She asked, her concern already starting to effect us.

"Is it clicking?"

"Yeah, kind of whirring."

"That sounds like your timer belt. That's not good at all."

We went outside and ran the 20 year old minivan for her to listen to. She popped the hood and gave us the diagnosis.

"Yep, that's not good."

"Is it very expensive to fix?"

"Oh, it'll run you about 2500$"

We had bought the van off (you guessed it) Craigslist for 750$ three months back.

"Can we drive it up there?"

"I wouldn't."

With heavy hearts we drove Clifford to the nearest junkyard and turned him over. He had been good to us, it was his time.

And now, though we had lost a car, we could travel up to our new home together with all our things in just one trip.

But the thing about living in a town of 400 in the middle of the mountains is you need a vehicle. And the thing about the bus was it was insured for just the one day.

There was transit that left our tiny town for a small city an hour away twice a week. Monday morning at 7 am we got up, packed our things and caught the bus knowing we would have to buy a car that day or be stuck for at least another week. Stuck with one small grocer, no jobs, no doctors until we had a car.

Tomorrow: Stranded and the Introduction of Little John

Unwelcome guests

So, when we left off we had just met our new bus Mr. Bunbury.

No, Mr. Bunbury is a great. He runs well, responds to handling brilliantly and would have (maybe someday will) made a great home for a little family. But along with the first trimester of my pregnancy came preganncy fatigue, amplified my health problems and thoughd my husband was on paternity leave until our son was one he couldn't take care of Wildeman (our son), me and our bus. So, as our last day at our little apartment crept up on us Mr. Bunbury sat in a parking lot enjoying only the occasional visit from us to buff off his surface rust or remove some screp metal left over from his school bussing days.

Then it was five days until the first, it was October, we owned an empty bus, no furniture (as we had gotten rid of it all in preperation or moving into the bus) and no idea where we were going to live.

And so once again, as I always do when my problem is one of resources, I turned to Craigslist. I searched listing after listing as the days closed in for an apartment that would cost only as much as bus gas. And finally I found one. A little bachelor house. It was 400 sq ft of pure adorableness. There was, naturally, just one catch: it was four hours away, up in the mountains, in northern British Columbia.

We were hesitant to move away from the hospital that had so beauifully handled my high risk delivery a year before, my doctors, midwives and more than anything our family friends. But we are nothing if not aventurous and we took the leap.

And sometimes when you leap, you don't quite make it to the other side.

We drove the bus up, filled with our few remaining belongings and left Vancouver. The house was perfect, if perhaps haunted, and the people were nice, save a few who had crept around outside our house an evening or two.

It was about 2 o'clock in the morning when I jolted awake to the sound of my husbands almost ferrel shouting. He was on his feet before I had even realized he had left the bed.

"What the f*ck was that?"

"Stay inside, I'll be right back."

It takes all of about 30 seconds to circle that house so he was back in a flash.

"They're gone."

Who is gone?"

His fright had turned my sensitive stomach and I asked this question with my head in a bag between wretches.

He had woken up and seen the tall, broad figure of someone peering into our back door window. I should perhaps mention that the locks on this house hadn't been changed for over five years, while the tenants had changed at least eight times.

Whoever it was was gone, and our locks were changed the next day (when you live that far our getting to a store that sells locks is a whole day excursion) but we were shaken. That evening a pain started in my stomach that I just chalked to stress. We tried to go back to sleep and finally gave up around five in the morning.

In the beginning there was a bus...

So, why a yurt?

Well, Good question. As much as I like to answer this question with, "Because it's awesome!" (Which it is) the actual reasoning behind my husband and I's decision to build and live in a yurt is somewhat more detailed.

About a year ago my husband and started looking into alternative housing. We live in Vancouver and we loved our tiny one bedroom, and at 750$ a month we were hesitant to let go of such a great little place at such a great Vancouver price. Even after our son was born we held onto the little place. Afterall babies don't take up all that much room.

Well, one baby doesn't. But when we got pregnant with our next little munchkin we knew we would have to move. The problem was anything with enough room in a safe neighbourhood in Vancuver was way out of our single income budget. And because my husband's job as an electrical apprentice kept us a hair above the poverty line I am was eligibile for disablility even though it is because of my health that I don't work.

On top of that our first ultrasound showed that were pregnant with twins. We lost the smaller of the twins early on but our soon-to-be family of four was going to require some changes.

We talked about tiny houses, yurts, earth ships and school buses. Originally the tiny house on wheels stood out as we drew out plan after plan for a house that accomodated my needs as a mom with fibromyalgia and had enough space for all of us.

Now, "enough space" is a very relative term. My husband and I have both always been more comfortable in small spaces while around us ou families keep seeking out more and more living space. There's absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to occupy more space, it's just not our style. But through this process of researching alternative housing we have developed a whole new appreciation for small spaces and efficient living. For me it has become a passion, perhaps even an obsession.

While in the midst of planning out our tiny house on wheels and scouring Craigslist for flat deck trailers we suddenly found a bus. Up till then none of the medium length buses had fit within our price range, and passionate though we were about tiny spaces we weren't sure we could make short bus work for us. There was one catch though: the bus was registered in Ontario, not here in BC.

Excited as we were we shrugged that off, handed Nick 2500$ cash drove home and named our new guy Mr. Bunbury. But of course, that romance didn't last.

To be continued...