Anon
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 Part I - The coming of the Beastie
7 years is the usual burn-out limit at a certain Redmond-based software company and in September 2003, mine kicked in right on time. Time to realize a dream - I quit, cashed in my stocks, took my kayaking gear back to the UK and set out to organize a kayaking trip around France.
Shuttling kayaks between the put-in and take-out requires 2 vehicles, therefore one which could carry the other. Cutting down on accomodation costs was the bonus of a camper and a shower to carry wet, stinky gear led to an ebay search still on my favorites: campers & caravans (shower -caravan). Cost was a balancing act since it would determine the length of the trip but would, hopefully, be recovered at the end. Unfortunately, the dollar chose this moment to plummet ($1.98 to the pound!!!) so my choices were getting more limited every day.
A road-legal dirt bike from the local paper and a train ride down south got my first view of my newly acquired beddy. An X registered CF2 with a busted shower tray, ragged upholstry, blown exhaust and low mileage used mainly as a semi-mobile abode during it's owner's college course. The ride back got off to an auspicious start when 7 years of driving automatics and the barely perceptable resistance of the reverse-next-to-first arrangement nearly demolished the barn it was parked in front of. My first experience of driving on the left in a very long time was in a vehicle wide enough to sleep across, in the dark and rain while my instincts were screaming that the vehicle stuck out on the opposite side to where it really was. Finally reaching the motorway was a great relief and I drove a steady 65 all the way home.
This was where I learned my first lesson - don't drive above 60 unless you own your own oil well!
Sarah, a fellow kayaker, joined me from the US and the following weeks were spent getting the exhaust replaced (I'm sure the one on there was the original), getting the engine thoroughly serviced and the timing belt replaced just in case, getting the water heater working, regrowing my eyebrows, buying, cutting down, redrilling the drain and fitting a new shower tray, getting my Aunt to reupholster the interior, replacing the headlight bulbs with hallogens and padding the new smaller power hookup with a light-switch cover so that there was no longer a gaping hole in the side. The brake lines were showing severe signs of rust so I replaced those since Alps+brakes = good!
It came as a shock to Sarah to discover that "I pay in cash and I don't want a receipt" does not have the American meaning of "Rip me off and do shoddy work because I won't be able to sue you". It was good to be back!
On the first day of work, I locked the keys inside. It took a minute to figure out how to break in without causing any damage (pulling the split door down below the catch) and another 30 seconds to actually do it. A duck-taped length of wood between the two fixed both that security flaw and the howling draughts.
A trip to Armitage's for the bike rack to be fitted and we were on our way to a test-run to visit my policeman brother in Edinburgh. His first words on seeing it was "what a beastie!" and the name stuck - from then on, she was always "The beastie". He was also the one who discovered the "wee legs" at the back which, after half an hour with WD40 and grease made rest stops much more stable. The 300 mile journey at 50 mph was flawless. Smooth running, no problems whatsoever... until we stopped. The tires were so old that they were splitting between the treads!
A trip to the local discount tyre merchant's replaced all 5 (the spare was also buggered) and I threatened to let a few skeletons out of the closet if he dared give me a ticket! A few days of hanging around Edinburgh starting each morning with "Morning hippies", "Morning Fascist" and we headed back down to Derbyshire.
Just about ready to go! We loaded up the bike...and noticed the squished rear tyres and the sit-up-and-beg angle she took on.
A visit to the local weigh-bridge revealed that the rear axel was 50Kg overloaded. More research revealed that "French police are always on the lookout for overloaded vehicles" and the term "auxhiliary shocks" in the Haynes camper van manual. Placing an order with Adrian Bailey, we went for another dry run down to Avebury so that Sarah could see a genuine stone circle.
Unknown to me at the time, this was the place they filmed that creepy kids show "Children of the stones" with the "happy day" people turning to stone. Sarah couldn't understand why I got the screaming heebie-jeebies as we rounded the corner and saw the very distinctive stone at the side of the road! Returning muddied for a nice coffee and a warm was absolute bliss and another leisurely drive back still came up with no problems and we got the shocks fitted as soon as they arrived.
After all this travelling around, I realized I couldn't stay in the UK and decided to keep my green card going a while longer. Going over my paperwork suddenly revealed a flaw in my plan - I had only two months to return to the US to get it renewed as opposed to the previous deadline of "when the money runs out". Corners had to be cut. No lock-box under the wardrobe, no roof-rack (the kayaks would have to travel inside with us) and several other small jobs were dropped. We threw all of our clothes into trash bags to sort out later, jammed the kayaks inside rapidly threw in a CD/MP3 player to give an alternative entertainment to "sheep with tails, sheep without tails" and took the plunge.
South!
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Anon
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Thanks for the good wishes, but...
This was back in April-June 2003. It's taken me this long to get around to writing it up. If anyone wants the spoiler, they can look it up on the message board to see what happened, or they can wait a while until I type in the rest.
Mike.
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