06/01/2026
Three years ago I stepped into the brush of an overgrown field east of Boulder and laid eyes on this old girl. Decades earlier her key had been turned one last time, and she was laid to rest.
At some point a huge tree branch hanging above gave weigh, crumpling the front section of her roof like a tin can.
At another point, her doors were opened and she was gutted; left an empty shell. Seats, side panels - almost everything - taken.
Field mice took up residence in her underside.
The rust began.
Year in and year out, she sat. Silently blanketed in snowfall after snowfall. Cooking in the Colorado sun. Rubber seals dried, cracked, and rotted. Her windows began to cloud over. Slowly but surely, she began returning to the earth.
As I walked around her, surveying the toll the years had taken, my eye caught her key. Still, somehow, sitting in the ignition. Tarnished, faded - but there.
The keys - they’re always gone. Left on a forgotten keychain, tossed into a junk drawer. But not this one. She’d held onto it somehow....I think maybe she was waiting. Waiting to come alive again.
I shook hands with the owner, and carefully extracted her from her long slumber.
This bus, Mr. Darnell, became part of our fleet. Eight years and one Subaru conversion later, Mr D is more alive than he’s ever been 🙌🏻. Love what we get to do!!!
