I Drove a Bus

The thing is, it is a five speed.  Manual.

I'm behind the wheel of a 35 foot transit bus on the outskirts of Apple Valley, Ca.  In the seat across from me is my new mechanic, whom I've only just met in person the day before.  A few minutes ago, we had the Flxible on a truck scale, (more on why, soon) where it weighed in at a bit under 17,000 pounds.

The original 1952

The extent of my bus driving experience has just passed the 65 mile mark, most of which I accomplished the day before on the ferry trip from the bus' previous resting place at a San Bernardino storage facility. My mechanic is every bit a heavy vehicle veteran and I am very much the eager hobbyist and all around amateur in the driver's seat.  That seat, as a matter of fact, is mounted on ancient springs that send me on a short space flight whenever we encounter a significant bump in the road.  

As a working bus, the Flxible was designed for easy commercial servicing. Its power train is mounted in a thick steel cradle that can be unbolted and slid out the back as a unit.  Mechanics could quickly swap the whole system, including both engine and transmission, to get a bus back into service. This particular '52 had a Ford truck motor installed at some point in its history. It is an enormous power plant: 534 cubic inches (almost 9 liters) and around 1,000 pounds. It is a slow-turner, too.  Unlike the engine in your car, which may spin at 6,000 rpm or more, the 534 tops out at about 3,400.  More importantly, it delivers its peak torque (what my Mom refers to a 'pickup') at about 1,800 rpm.  These engines were designed for moving heavy loads.  Going quickly wasn't really a priority.

Ford 534 V8 / Spicer 5-speed Manual in Cradle

The way back to the shop is down a wavy desert road.  The bus is relatively easy to drive on long stretches.  It tracks well on the road and the high seat position provides a great view out.  The one challenge--and it is a major one--is the five speed manual transmission.

In a car, a manual transmission is often located right between the driver and passenger--directly under the gear shift.  Even if the transmission is located elsewhere, the connection--the linkage between the shifter and the transmission--is no more than a foot or so.  In the bus, the gear shift is nearly 30 feet from the transmission.  The linkage is a series of loosely coupled metal tubes. Like a long distance phone call in 1952, the connection is persnickety.  

Torque is saving my bacon and protecting my ego as we proceed down the blacktop.  The gearshift in the bus is about four feet long, with a big round wooden handle on top that shines with 60 years of service.  The clutch, which feels like it is on the other side of the state, is a huge pedal poking almost straight up out of the floor.  It requires real effort to depress, and combined with the weary plates in the back of the bus, makes moving from gear to gear an awkward dance.  In fact, finding any one of the five forward gears includes a bit of effort, a bit of luck and frequently a bit of grinding. Thankfully, once engaged the big twisting power of the Ford is usually capable of keeping the bus moving.

Then we come to an intersection.  Specifically, it is a right turn onto the main road, midpoint on a hill. Hmmmm...

I have to slow down for the intersection, ensure I'm in the right gear to climb the hill, turn at slow speeds (no power steering, 17,000 pounds of bus), avoid the curb on the right, and keep enough momentum so I don't stall.

And the pro is in the passenger seat.

There was a lot of gear grinding, a few involuntary vocalizations and some deep grooves cut in the clutch at that intersection. With a little luck and momentum, I navigated the turn and got the bus onto Bear Valley Boulevard without incident.  And yes, I did check the mirrors for any aftermath or wake.

That was the last time I drove the bus.  March, 2013.