Welcome to the third series of the bus building series!
Last time, we first bought a bus and then remodeled it into a camper suitable for field overnights.
It turned out seemingly not bad (well, for the first time). The Bus has a bed, a second 100 Ah battery, and even an autonomous heater that saves you from sudden cold snaps. The comfort level is about the same as in a cheap Italian hostel - you eat and sleep comfortably, but you still poop in a hole in the woods.
Two stars.
But that was all last year. This year was dedicated to traveling, making external modifications, and passing the rectal German technical inspection with all this DIY wealth.
So yes, this post will have a lot of exterior stuff.
I perfectly understand that arguing about the exterior is the favorite pastime of every auto forum. Yes, the exterior does not affect off-road capability, comfort, and other REAL things, and often even worsens them. Any fourteen-year-old schoolboy will destroy you with facts that stickers are bad form, AT tires are noisy, and a roof rack will devour all your fuel just parked overnight.
Smart, adult, and rational people from the Internet will never do exterior mods. But unfortunately, I don't belong to them. I'm irrational.
For me, the appearance is what makes each of my mornings a little more pleasant. You're riding your bike to work past the parking lot and you're like, "Ooooh, Buuusya, heeey!!!"
And your mood somehow improves.
There are few things in my life right now that improve my mood, forgive me at least this.
Today I will tell you about the alterations over the past year and how long we went to them.
Yeah, building a doomsday machine in 2022 has become somehow quite relevant. It's a pity we won't find more fuel :)
It was decided to install AT tires at the time of purchase. It's not for nothing that I overpaid for all-wheel drive.
AT is a fluffier tire that is designed with the expectation that although you live in the city, you sometimes drive off-road.
The frequency of this "sometimes" determines how aggressive of an AT you need. From very toothy to some Michelin, which doesn't look any different from a regular winter tire, but marketing does its job.
Of course, if you are a true jeeper from Siberia, your choice is more between AT and MT (Mud Terrain) and most likely in favor of the latter. AT in Siberia is a subject for jokes.
But that's a completely different world there. If I lived in Siberia, I would have taken a Toyota and MT long ago.
But here we are European scum with long autobahns and fuel at 2+ euros, so AT is quite a compromise.
Although I agree, putting AT in Europe is more about style than necessity. This is when you still want to fly 150 km/h on the autobahn to Austria, but then drive a little off-road and not be afraid to cut the sidewalls with dashing stones.
Plus, I'm tired of changing tires every six months. And almost all AT tires are certified as all-season they have an icon with a mountain with 3 peaks - any local cop determines if a tire is winter or not by it - it's convenient.
Then there was a bunch of research, comparisons and the agony of choice. I'll just say that as a result, it was decided to take the "gold standard" - BF Goodrich AT KO/2, also known as BFG (like in Doom, yeah).
Fortunately, they are much more affordable here than other American brands, thanks to their popularity.
The research was going on so thoroughly that for several months I just walked the streets and photographed all the local buses on AT tires to collect statistics. It's good that there are a lot of them in Berlin. So that's how I got high, yeah.
A separate doubt was whether to take wheels of one of the standard sizes or to go hard and take huge rims, which may also require raising the suspension.
Wheel Size Calculator was looked at to the point of holes. In the end, I still decided not to go hard and take small but standard ones. It looks, of course, an order of magnitude worse, but in theory it is more durable and there are no problems with the police in different countries.
Here I envy countries where there are no laws and you can do whatever you want, as long as it drives. Yes, even neighboring Poland.
The wheels turned out to be cool in the end, although they don't look as fat as I would like. But they drive great. I had a lot of doubts about the change in behavior on the highway, I even initially drove very carefully at 120 km/h in the right lane, especially in wet weather.
After a month, I got completely used to the AT wheels and they are in fact very similar to a regular winter tire. Just as soft, but at the same time quite tenacious. Even on sharp turns in rain and snow, there were no particular problems, the ESP did not blink.
The noise issue also turned out to be not so critical. Again, the bus is noisy enough as it is, it's not an S-class after all. So even according to tests by meticulous German bus drivers on YouTube, replacing regular tires with AT only adds a couple of decibels, which is simply nonsense.
So the main fears did not materialize at all, but the main thing that I got was a feeling of confidence. Now when Google Maps in Albania takes you to a cornfield (yes, that's classic), you just swear and turn on the low gear, but don't worry about every pebble.
In short, I like it. Again, I have a bus, it is by default clumsy and noisy, so everything may be different in your comfortable crossover.
I recommend owners of large vehicles to put AT without fear, they differ little from winter tires. Except for the price, yes. But haters gonna hate, of course, and it will be very fucking awesome for you behind the wheel!
An unpleasant discovery during last winter's trips was that we extremely lacked even high beams on narrow forest roads. Busya was born in the years when xenon on Volkswagens was still a "premium option".
In Russia, this problem would be solved simply - with makeshift headlights from an older model and a poker face "yes, this is factory, officer".
In Germany, everything is not so simple.
Firstly, each configuration is coded right in the service book. Even Google knows what LH7W this is my color is, and for Germans, each car is coded with a hundred such codes in the database.
Secondly, you'll get fucked looking for all the necessary parts, up to a new bumper, to build in the headlight washers (they are mandatory for xenon).
Thirdly, such changes need to be entered into the vehicle's technical passport and re-certified, which can cost more than all your modifications.
So Germans don't touch their cars at all. Broken down - sold to the Poles, bought a new one. Happy people. Not like us.
I had to look for alternative options. Additional light was sorely needed.
The most popular option is the installation of additional "off-road" lights on the bumper or on the roof. Like this:
However, such light can only be used as "work lighting" - only off public roads or while parked. Almost in any country.
We needed the additional light to work together with the high beam, on the same serpentines at dusk. Otherwise, what's the point of all this.
A legal way was eventually found - you had to place the additional light at the same level as the regular headlights. Above or below - not allowed, but level with them is possible.
Thus, British Lazer Lamps Triple-R 750 headlights were found for 350 euros per kit, which are installed right into our bus grille.
For ease of installation, they come with a 3D printed template for your version of the car. You put them on, cut the plastic with a hacksaw, insert them, screw them in - voila. Fit like a glove.
The headlights have a thick clicking relay that needs to be carefully placed under the hood. The power contacts from it go directly to the battery, and I connected the signal wires to the harness of the left headlight. When the low beam is turned on, the "parking lights" mode is activated, when the high beam is turned on, the relay clicks and fucking beats at full power.
In terms of power, one such headlight shines brighter than both stock ones. That is, instead of 2 regular high beam lamps, I now actually have 6. I like it.
The first field test for the new headlights was Montenegro and Albania. In Montenegro, they helped out a lot on the serpentines, where you need to fly at least 80+ km/h, otherwise an angry local sausage will form behind you. In Albania, high beam is the main means of communication on the road, since traffic rules are mostly absent there. The one with the stronger high beam has the priority.
So I was often a priority. I like it.
On the one hand, I like the "stock" appearance and the furious power. On the other hand, maybe next time I would first put on a "bull bar" and then regular round lights on it.
Such a setup, although it costs more initially, is easier to maintain and replace over time - such headlights can be broken and new ones can be bought at any gas station, but these - nope.
Mine fogged up by winter, which is a shame. Premium British brands are so premium. It's good that for high beam, fogging is rather pooh, it only affects the appearance.
Remember, at the beginning of the year we went to South Africa, where we rode in the deserts on a fucking awesome Toyota Hilux?
I still miss it, yeah. Now for the first time in my life I have a dream: to buy a house in South Africa, hire a housekeeper for 200 euros/month and park a Hilux (or Tacoma) there in the garage to go on safari every weekend!
So there was one thing in the Hilux that I decided to steal for my ideas - pull-out drawers for junk in the back.
I know the jeeper crowd here is (as usual) split in half - the first half loves drawers because they can organize all the shit they carry with them, especially small stuff. The second half hates them because the drawers steal centimeters, add weight, and deprive you of the precious opportunity to throw a dozen Soviet shovels and a stolen pig from the village into the trunk.
I'm stupid and young, so I decided to try drawers. Here in the Europes, they are also called CamperBox.
For a European, a Camperbox is a top life hack.
So you're driving to work in your German barn. And then bam, you drive into the garage, throw a camperbox with a kitchen and a sleeping bag in the trunk, put a car box with clothes on the roof - and now you're ready to go with the whole family to ride in the Alps for a week.
However, it turned out that camperboxes cost about as much as another car - at least 5-6 thousand euros.
Then I decided that there's no need to overpay for store-bought, if you can make it WORSE and MORE EXPENSIVE yourself!
So I had a new hobby. All the free weekends in September and October, I went to saw my drawers. It was fucking awesome. I even mastered some geeky CAD and sketched a project in it to make it more convenient to calculate the dimensions of each internal partition.
I decided to make the frame from an aluminum profile, as it is much lighter than solid plywood walls. Processing metal is more difficult than wood, but in the case of aluminum, it's like you have a cheat code - it is quite soft and can be sawed with a regular angle grinder.
Aluminum is hard to weld, but for profiles there are special plastic corners with which you can depict almost any structure.
Next, steel guides were screwed to the aluminum frame, bought on Amazon by the query Heavy Duty 100 kg Sliders. It's unlikely they will hold 100 kg, Amazon always lies, but if they hold at least 50 - that's already a victory.
The drawers themselves were assembled from cool birch plywood (aka "Baltic birch plywood"), as it is the strongest, lightest and most moisture resistant. That's why it's expensive, yeah - almost 50 euros per square. Building materials have really gotten more expensive over the past year.
The plus of plywood is its durability, but there is also a minus - it almost always "goes screw". Large sheets bend on their own and you need to think in advance how to fasten them into a square box so that over time the whole structure also retains its squareness.
As a result, after two months of work and fitting, we had two fucking awesome pull-out drawers with a bunch of compartments inside.
No more pulling half the shit out of the trunk when you want to get the grill or tire compressor from the farthest corner. Water and food are also accessible. As a pleasant bonus, a bottle opener for beer and a couple of hard cup holders were attached to the front to pour yourself coffee in the field. Like it.
A long place for all sorts of shovels and chairs is still preserved between the drawers. The table moves to the roof.
We put a roof rack last year. It was thought out in advance, because we needed an awning (an unfolding canopy from the sun and rain), and it is most convenient to attach it to the roof rack so as not to invent some temporary makeshift mounts and not drive like a fool with a protruding "horn".
All year the roof rack basically rode empty. A couple of times it carried some oversized cargo, but mostly it was an element of style.
Well, I was also interested to measure how right all the Internet experts are, shouting that a roof rack is at least +1-2 liters of consumption per hundred. The result: they're lying.
My aerodynamics without a roof rack already resembles a brick in cross-section more, so empty railings on the roof had approximately no effect on consumption even on the highway. As it was 7-8 liters per hundred, so it remained. I specifically measured through the ODB-II connector with an app for statistics.
Although, I understand, the guys most likely mean a situation when the roof rack is loaded with bales of shit and bags of junk half a meter high, but we will explore such a setup next year.
So if your super-aerodynamic Tesla or Audi can add a couple of tenths of a liter of additional fuel consumption per hundred to the roof rack, then for brick-buses this thing is about the same as a pasted patch.
In 2022, the roof rack was finally planned taking into account our needs when traveling. Yes, everything is done slowly, because you have to study your own habits for a long time and what things are really needed with you.
Stuff on the roof is not the things you need accessible every day. Sleeping bags or water bottles are better stored inside to be close at hand. You're not going to climb a dirty roof in a pouring rain to get yourself a blanket or a drink.
On the other hand, the bus is small and every kilogram of weight is also important to us. Carrying a hundred kilograms of shit with you that will never be needed is something only big guys can afford.
At first, I also thought about putting a couple of solar panels on the roof, but a year of riding around clearly showed us that I, of course, greatly exaggerated with a 100 Ah battery, and its electricity is enough for our refrigerator and all gadgets for at least 2-3 days of parking. It's even a shame not to use it to the maximum, so we don't need additional electricity yet. Pity. It would be a top build.
All this leads us to a rather narrow set of things that can be carried with you on the roof.
My personal top turned out to be like this:
It is needed for large parking lots almost always, but it gets in the way a lot the rest of the time. For two years we used a folding one, but once in Norway I noticed how the table is attached to the roof racks from Front Runner and I was very impressed.
But there, one table alone costs under 600 euros, and the roof rack itself is another 2000. Too fat for us. It's easier to make your own WORSE and MORE EXPENSIVE again! Well, you get the concept.
A universal solution. In normal times, you can carry all sorts of cables and sleeping bags there (which don't rattle). And when traveling with friends, their backpacks and tents do not always fit comfortably in the cabin, so it's very nice to have an additional rain-protected place on the roof.
Plastic things to get out of shit when you get stuck. You can't carry them inside, because after the first use they turn into pieces of shitty dirt. Therefore, they are carried outside. Well, and also because STYYYYLE. That's why I specifically bought orange ones.
True jeepers and the same Front Runner came up with a top theme - to attach them on the side, like an awning. Convenient to remove when you get stuck. Unfortunately, I haven't yet found normal mounts that would be both reliable against thieves and easy to remove. Such exist in the USA and Australia, but in Europe, apparently, no one fucking needs them. Therefore, there will be no shovel in the photos yet :)
Mine hangs under the bottom at the back, but I was imbued with the recommendations of those who got stuck. When you've been skidding through shit and ripped a wheel - getting a spare from under the bottom will be quite a challenge. Therefore, many move it to the roof to make it easier to remove. There on the same UAZ it doesn't hang on the ass for nothing.
As a result, our roof by the end of the year looks something like this:
I already joked on Twitter that a hobby in Germany is when you memorize every paragraph of the law that allows you a particular loophole.
And then you kind of play a card fight with the inspector:
(all the numbers are of course fictional for simplification)
German inspectors are very similar to ours - they also like to mess with you, so that you first get tense, and then say "okay, according to paragraph 92, I can turn a blind eye to this, but promise me to fix that little thing as soon as possible, got it?"
The main thing is to let them know that they still know more paragraphs than you. This way they still feel their superiority, but kind of start to respect you for a good game!
So at the end of the inspection, the examiner asked "How much did you pay for it?" and gave his business card. "If you're going to sell - call me)))". I consider this the highest evaluation of skill!
On Twitter, my thread about TÜV collected a lot of likes and replies, some of which I didn't even notice. Twitter hid them under More Replies, but the arguments from them are worthy of mention.
For example, the most popular reply was: does it mean that a civil servant who gets his salary from your taxes does not even know the laws and regulations, and therefore harms his “employer”?
Okay, it's not that simple in Germany.
Companies engaged in technical inspection in Germany do not belong to the state. Passing driving tests and acceptance of any equipment (cars, elevators, nuclear power plants, anything) here is delegated to several "private" companies - TÜV, Dekra, KÜS, GTÜ, you name it.
They live by market rules - they compete, conclude contracts with factories, figure out how to do well so that customers go to them and not to others.
However, they are "private" in quotes, because the German government sets all standards and even prices for them. They obey the same set of rules and do not have the right to raise prices by imposing "premium services". Everything is the same for everyone (in fact).
It turns out to be such a mix. Germany loves to combine free market capitalism and good old socialism with state regulation. Yes, it breaks the brain, but somehow it works.
By the way, the same story with medical insurance
So they are not staffed by "civil servants" for "nologues", but by ordinary working guys who are former mechanics. And all their fucking around with paragraphs is rather a habit, plus a test of whether you are "one of us", whether you understand what you are doing, or you just put ultra-xenon according to blogs on the Internet.
Not knowing the right paragraph is not a verdict. There are a shitload of laws in Germany and no one remembers them, relax. You just go to the laptop together, open a PDF and look for any paragraph that will allow you to drive on. The testers here are (most often) on your side, not against you. On the contrary, they only enjoy solving difficult tasks and giving you advice, especially if they see that you are adequate and tried.
In short, don't shit yourself. You can always call the tester on the phone and just ask "what if I want to do X?" It even helped me out a couple of times.
As a result, we came to the German TÜV with something like the following changes over two years:
The tester said that he absolutely doesn't give a fuck about everything inside the car. Well, except for the completely obvious - the steering wheel, belts and pedals. Everything else is cargo.
So he ignored all the drawers and seats, only noticing that the driver's belt does not always retract into the rack when unfastened. Unsafe, he says!
About the same as in point 1. Fuck it. The tester only clarified whether I have a fire extinguisher in case of malfunctions of all these alterations of mine - and I just had one, because literally a year ago we were on fire)))0
The tester laughed and asked if there was certification testing of the electrical wiring that it would withstand its load. I said that the heater is connected to the second battery and is not connected to the car's circuit. He was upset.
This was the first thing that attracted attention. In my registration certificate, wheels of this size were not listed, but they were indicated on the sticker near the driver's door and he additionally checked the database - this size is allowed for my model. No quibble.
AT or non-AT, they don't give a fuck, the main thing is the dimensions are in the standard. The tester even said that in theory you can put tires 8% larger, calibrate the speedometer, and pass certification - it's legal. Unfortunately, if the tire is more than 10% larger (in circumference), it will no longer pass certification for public roads. It's a pity. You can't build an uber-jeep here, only carry it with you on a trailer.
The topic turned out to be the hottest. We even looked up all the laws together and looked at the standard codes. As a result, I lost in the only thing - I was forbidden to use my additional light as additional daytime running lights (DLR). Only as high beam.
Because according to German standards, there must be at least 40 cm distance between DLRs, and I have 25. Bitch. Therefore, I made another button under the hood that turns off the DLR mode of the additional headlights. When I go to neighboring countries, I will definitely turn it on!
In general, at the technical inspection, they usually look at standard things, like suspension is wobbling, muffler is noisy, headlights are looking up, brake light is not lit, and so on. This routine takes up 80% of the total technical inspection time if you are a normal person. But I'm not very normal, so I just put it all in a separate point.
As a result: my front stabilizer bars are fucked. Both are sentenced to replacement. The muffler is a little rusty, but it was forgiven. In general, that's all. At the last TÜV I was counted for 1000+ euros of parts for replacement, but here I got away with 200 (plus 130 euros for the TÜV itself) - consider it not bad.
Exterior is cool. Now Busya pleases not only when you go somewhere in it at sunset, but just every day when it stands in the parking lot. Even when I walk the dog, I always go past it on purpose.
But I forgot to tell you about one more important attribute of exterior fucking - stickers. Jeeps pasted with stickers all around with brands and logos are called "Snickers" by truckers. I also want to become a Snickers, but I have a concept.
I decided to stick stickers of the countries we drove through on the rear passenger window. So the window will be filled for a long time, which suits me, I'm not in a hurry. So far it turned out like this.
In addition to stickers for beauty, there were also stickers for protection. The thresholds and the lower part of the bus often suffer from stones, branches, and just me parking badly between stumps.
Therefore, it was decided to paste it with some kind of film, and at the same time inform everyone that we are 4MOTION. Here's how it turned out.
As a result, even the concept began to change a little. Vanlife, of course, is good, but apparently I've watched too much of it, so now all vanlife projects seem to me somehow over-romanticized and far-fetched.
I understand the romance of an old T2 farting along a mountain serpentine in the light of the sunset, but when you face it in reality and realize that it doesn't go faster than a bicycle and spits out the timing belt every couple of days - you want a little less "romance".
Therefore, Busya is increasingly turning not into a romance-mobile, but rather into a universal weekend car. Here you are already watching not vanlifers on YouTube, but rather Australian overlanders who build huge SUVs.
We need a pleasant, versatile machine capable of transporting our cheerful company along the autobahns to the nearby mountains, and there just as cheerfully climbing the dirt road up to adventures. And then drive back.
And taking into account the fact that low-cost airlines in Europe have ceased to exist with covid, and now you can't fly to Norway for 8 euros, Busya even approximately pays for itself.
Yes, the cries of "we told you to take an SUV" should start again in the comments, but you understand that it's too boring and practical, and so people even sometimes pay attention to Busya on the road (abroad, of course).
But even in Germany it turned out to be not so difficult to find conditional shit in the forest. Fire driveways and other clearings are quite accessible in summer, you just need to find them on the map and turn correctly. Just few people dare.
We will continue to develop in this direction.
Although, given the war in Ukraine and the energy crisis in Europe, it seems that humanity really lacks electric buses on solar energy, because all these diesels and gasolines of yours will soon simply become inaccessible to most ordinary people.
Next, road experiments again. This year Bus had three big trips - to Norway, to Lithuania and across the Balkans. This does not include small weekend trips to campgrounds in neighboring German and Polish forests, which I no longer count.
He drove his allotted 10,000+ km per year. I hope he is satisfied.
Busya is technically solid inside, he drives well and you can quite comfortably survive in him for weeks. As long as there are places to refuel and buy some pasta and sausages to cook up in the jetboil for dinner in the evening.
On the outside, he still needs some work, but overall is also in good shape.
I think when we finish building everything the way I want, the next step is making it a "smart bus". We have enough electricity, and I have a ton of experience with home automation, so this will be a chance to try vehicle automation. It's a completely different world there with its own quirks, which are closer to yachts than apartments.
Some acquaintances popped up here who bought a "floating home" and live in it right in the middle of a lake. So they have a funny feature - a digital anchor. It's a GPS sensor that constantly monitors the "yacht" so it doesn't drift too far from its "parking" spot. In case you're suddenly not home and the wind picks up or a storm comes - your boat sends an alert to your phone that it's drifting from the mooring point and you need to run to catch it somewhere else. Now that's what I call automation!
But all that comes later, first we'll drive around more and figure out what things are truly necessary. Perfection takes time. But even in the third year of building the Bus, I'm very satisfied with this toy. A regular car would have gotten boring long ago.
See you next year!