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R TERRY (64.12.96.235)
Rating: N/A
Votes: 0 (Vote!) | | Posted on Monday, September 08, 2003 - 3:55 am: | |
Occasionally, I would lapse into delirious optimism that could persist almost an entire day. It was probably a defense mechanism from having seen the bus up close and in person. Suffering from said optimism, we blithely incorporated a search for a Trip Permit into our other duties, which had consisted almost entirely of finding a tire iron.
I didn't pay too much attention to the importance of this detail before we left because, after all, we live in Arizona --where ANYTHING is possible, thank you--, and acquiring a permit is no more difficult than turning on your computer, surfing over to the ADOT website, keying in a VIN and your credit card number, and printing the official permit on your trusty HP. Of course, you have to be prepared to never see that dollar again, but... ya gotta do what ya gotta do.
What was I thinking? What cataclysm of imagination would lead me to believe that people in TENNESSEE can also do that? I'll tell you what made me think that: People in NEBRASKA! OK, it was a totally different situation, but you should be able to do in Tennessee what you can do in Nebraska. (Sounds logical to me... )
A couple of winters ago, we bravely endured Nebraska's 15-degree, dry ice-maker weather (a heatwave to them, Antarctica to us) for the deranged purpose of driving home our new 4905, an ex-Trailways moneymaker being retired from a high school, its final job in public service. At that time, I thought I learned all I would ever need to know about Trip Permits.
Inside a classroom, I forked over the big bucks for the bus while the school's head of transportation reached into a desk drawer and fished out a blank permit. He filled it out with a black Sharpie, handed it to me and said, "I have a friend in the used car business. He said this is all you need."
So, I wondered, that's all there is to it? Is that really an Official State Document permitting me to drive a tour bus without any other valid registration? Why not tear the top off a box of Wheaties and slap it on the bus? Same difference!
(I later found out the school would have done almost anything to get rid of that bus.)
I let Ryan choose the used car dealer. He picked one solely on the criteria that it had a hot Camaro on the lot. I told him that blue Camaros don't look good. The lady behind the desk was just as friendly and "down home" as everyone else in Tennessee. I told her we need to buy a Trip Permit for a bus we're driving back to Arizona. (See? I told you I was suffering from MAJOR optimism delirium.) She said, "I'm sorry, it's illegal; I can't do that." She went on to explain, half apologetically, that TEENAGERS had been buying permits like crazy, driving around in cars that didn't belong to them and the cops had to put a stop to it. So now, because of THEM, it's illegal to sell permits outright.
My son --a teenager-- was staring at the lady in measured disbelief, eyes squinting... When we drove off, Ryan said, "Blue Camaros SUCK!"
What we found out was, you get the permits at the Police Station.
What we found out at the Police Station was, you get the permits at the Courthouse.
What we found out at the Courthouse was, you get the permits in ANOTHER COUNTY!
Not far from the Courthouse, we happened to drive past a sprawling maintenance facility for government vehicles. I stopped at the main gate where the sign warned, "OFFICIAL VEHICLES ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT", then continued through the entrance and across a big delineated lot to the Manager's Office at the end of a row of open service bays. If anyone knew how to get a Trip Permit, it would be these guys.
Almost immediately, a Tennessee Highway Patrol car pulled up behind us. We didn't look anything like an official vehicle, I knew that. The door opened, a uniformed man got out, came over and said, "Can I help you?"
"Yes, please!" I begged. "Where can I get a temporary Trip Permit to drive an old bus?
The mechanic who had gotten out of the patrol car thought about it for a few seconds, smiled and said, "Oh, that's easy. Any used car dealer will sell you one."
Now, why didn't I think of that?
R TERRY |
Charles Seaton (170.28.128.106)
Rating: N/A
Votes: 0 (Vote!) | | Posted on Monday, September 08, 2003 - 8:33 am: | |
Oh, man, if your pictures are one-quarter as good as your prose, I smell a self-published book. As far as your transmission goes; if it's the original spicer, I believe the bus' diesel fuel actually serves as the fluid. |
David & Lorna Schinske (Davidschinske) (64.24.236.151)
Rating: N/A
Votes: 0 (Vote!) | | Posted on Monday, September 08, 2003 - 8:45 am: | |
Isn't dealing with the "officials" in TN fun! Try getting a license tag for one of those scooter things (the kind you drive on the roads). DR lic office says it needs to be tagged with motorcycle license for driver, DOT says "we don't sell tags for scooters and we can't title it as a motorcycle", cops say "if it's on the highway it needs a tag" (so why don't they go after all those @#$% 4 wheelers?). I went thru the same circle for the bus (bus to motorhome title) until I when to the TN DOT state website and e-mailed someone there.
Lorna |
Ryan (199.195.109.23)
Rating: N/A
Votes: 0 (Vote!) | | Posted on Monday, September 08, 2003 - 5:37 pm: | |
Hey Dad; bus dudes. This whole part of the trip was really annoying. Going through all these "officials", mechanics, and dealers was truly a hassle. We practically memorized that town!
Keep the story up, man! We're gettin all antzy and stuff.
Driving that big hunk o' metal was pretty cool. Blue Camaroes do suck!
Bye. |
Johnny (67.241.224.86)
Rating: N/A
Votes: 0 (Vote!) | | Posted on Monday, September 08, 2003 - 6:27 pm: | |
Blue Camaros are nice, if done well (ie, fast Z28's). Dealing with the DMV always sucks. |
Jayjay (198.81.26.104)
Rating: N/A
Votes: 0 (Vote!) | | Posted on Tuesday, September 09, 2003 - 2:12 am: | |
Glad I'm in 'Vegas, 'cause I remember truckin' back and forth through TN several years ago, as the place where you paid a fuel tax, even if you didn't buy fuel...go figure! Cheers... |
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