The True Story of The Festival 8 Phish VW Bus!

By: Javier Ryan

Daniel owned this 1971 VW bus and he offered me a free Phish ticket to help him drive him and his lady friend Lana to festival 8.  I wasn't gonna go, but my homie Zak said I had to go do something fun.  On our way through Oregon (Grants Pass) the engine started on fire.  So I got in the van and started throwing everything out.  We were parked next to a hill on the shoulder and the van was kicking out so much heat that the stuff on the hill was still melting and starting on fire just from the heat!!  I lost my guitar in the fire,  it was my first and only guitar that's ever been mine all the way, a mid sixties or fifties Stella Harmony.  I had her for 2 years. Before I had her, her neck had been broken and mended at some point improperly but the belly had swelled sort of pregnant like and gave her perfect action and amazing resonance. She'll be sorely missed.

Both me and Daniel managed to save our accordions and we each had a bag of clothes. After the van was done burning we stood on the side of I-5 and wondered what to do as the van was loaded onto the wrecking truck. The van had burned from bumper to bumper in about ten minutes. The tickets were so much ash, but none of us were harmed by the fire. I sustained a minor burn on the under side of my forearm. This wasn't technically from the fire though. This was from molten plastic on the case of Lana's massage table when I tried to save it.  While the van, with it's burst tires and gas tank, it's scorched wire seat springs, it's naked steering wheel frame, and it's cargo of the damaged altar was hoisted onto the wrecker, a man named Jesse pulled over in an early nineties Dodge Caravan.  He was employed as a little league basketball referee and he had recently gotten out of a 1 1/2 year stint in rehab.  I know not what for, but he had found god and spoke of the lord.  He said that god brings both hardship and reward and regardless of how we judge what we receive the lord only brings us that which we need, and that it is important to remain grateful of our inclusion in the universal happening of life and being.

I was still very shaken and we smoked some herb and I asked to see his holy book.  It was a combined old and new testament. I trusted that in opening the book it would bring me the word I needed. I opened to the book of Daniel, chapter three. In it King Nebuchadnezzar erected a 90 foot gold statue and collected the musicians of the kingdom and had his subjects gather before the musicians and the statue.  He told them that when the music started they had to start worshiping the statue or he would throw them in the furnace. Sadrach, Meshach, and Abednego refused to commit the idolatry so he cast them into the furnace. The furnace was so hot that the guards that cast the 3 into the fire were instantly incinerated. The king and his advisers looked into the furnace only to see the 3 walking in a circle with a fourth unidentified individual. The 3 emerged from the furnace unscathed, unsigned. When King Nebuchadnezzar saw the appearance of their righteousness he called off his party.  I read this aloud and by the end I was shaking and sobbing.

He took us to Medford. we bussed to Ashland where we stayed in a hotel one night and a barn the next. The following morning we met a woman named Jess, with whom I'd arranged a ride-share down to Fortuna.  I got to see the ocean for the first time October 26. I was 25. We were in Fortuna overnight. Daniel, overcome by the burden of his accordion, had me trade at the local Fortuna music store. I got a hundred dollar traveling Oscar Schmidt. Nice guitar but a total rip off.  We then walked onto the 101 at the south most exit of Fortuna and it began to rain. We were all drained. We'd had minimal sleep the night before when we took sanctuary in a 24 hour Laundromat. So as the rain increased intensity I recognized I was faced with a decision: to suffer or to celebrate?  I began to do a soft shoe routine.  Lana in her mind smiled and said thank you to every passing car, on her third car, Naomi pulled over and picked us up.  I sat up in front with her and we talked and talked. She dropped us off in Leytonville as she stayed there with a friend and I got to play with some musicians at a market where a man named Dennis set up an open mic. After the market closed we went back to the road and were picked up by a crazy guy sluggin' PBR and speeding (scary on that winding stretch of road south of Leytonville.)  He was really wound up, but once I put on some Johnny Cash, he settled down he proved to be a man of conviction and compassion.  He allowed us to stay with his child and girlfriend in their hotel room for the night and the next morning she gave us a ride to the Wal-Mart on the south end of Ukiah.  I then got a call from Naomi and she picked Dan and I and took us to San Fran. Lana got a ride down with a resident of a tattoo parlor and two traveling hippie girls, Lacey and Donna. Her documents were destroyed in the fire so she couldn't stay at a hostel or motel or anything.  Dan and I stayed at the USA hostel at 777 post. BTW, highly recommended. We walked to the piers and the wharf. The next day I learned he'd had a decent amount of cash the whole time we'd been traveling and he offered me a bus ride to the show and a ticket when we got there.

I refused and snuck on the back of a SF city bus to get to the Mission District, to the tattoo parlor Lana was at. We stayed there a night and the following night we were contacted by a man named Kevin. He had met my friend Jacob who bounces at the Palace and learned of our story.  He lived in Phoster City just south of San Fran and was looking for assistance making the long drive down to the phish show so we left at 2 in the morning. I slept after his first hour driving, and he woke me at 6 am to start my shift. 8 hours I drove 'til we arrived at the gates in Indio.

The security wasn't letting anyone inside the fences or parking without a ticket. So Lana and I walked around the perimeter in the hot sun for hours. I had grown my hair long and my beard with plans of masquerading Jesus for Halloween. So there I was, Jesus refused at the gate on the side of the road with a sign, begging for a miracle. Nasty business, really. We then walked to the east side of the compound only to be spotted and met by Mike. 

His carload included my friend Mark, and two girls, Lauren and Caroline. They took our bags and a collection of cash to go towards me buying a ticket.  Sometime thereafter Mike called me and informed me that when they went through ticket exchange, they handed the clerk three tickets and a parking pass which he scanned and mistakenly handed them 4 bracelets. Mike met me at the fence with the un-scanned ticket at the turnstile. I exchanged it and walked in with Lana. One of the clerks asked her if she had a ticket I said she's okay and walked her in. Daniel's Greyhound bus ride had been deterred for four hours on the way down with technical issues. Never the less he made it there, scalped a ticket, and on Halloween when he was dead sober. 

He bought 31 raffle tickets for $210 put on by hippieshop.com and was the winner of a 1976 VW Bus with a custom phish paint job. This van is a one of a kind and  it's value remains to my knowledge un-assessed.

Priceless.

Daniel also later received a $3200 payout for the insurance on the burned van, and I had a great show.

For video of the raffle drawing go to http://myspace.com/rob_peoples

And that is the story of The Festival 8 Phish Bus....which now resides in Missoula, MT.