My new boss Jim and I were on a sales trip in western Pennsylvania. Jim only lasted a few months, and I don’t remember his last name.
He had been a punt returner for University of Maryland, so it’s likely he didn’t remember it either.
We had driven a demo to a major bus line and were trying to convince the owners that Eagles were the best buses for them.
Jim was nonplussed when I insisted on pulling the bus into the garage, since it was clear that it was going to be a tight fit. The coach was well over 11 feet high, and the door that was originally 12 feet high had lost some of its majesty when the garage floor was resurfaced.
The bus squeezed in, and later Jim came to understand that bus operators were reluctant to buy coaches that wouldn’t fit in their garage. This customer eventually chose a competitor with lower clearance, in part because he figured out that even a twig or a bounce on a fast approach to his garage entrance might cause trouble.
In the aftermath of the April accident on a Long Island parkway, where a bus struck an overpass, it seemed useful (and perhaps entertaining) to revisit the subject of bus height. All of you who memorized my previous column on this topic are excused from the rest of this.
The driver in the Long Island incident made it all the way under the overpass, although the top of the bus arrived mangled and late. It takes a head of steam to pull that off (pun intended).
A couple of things can be learned from this. The driver was using a GPS that was programmed for automobiles. Gee whiz, it had no idea that it was perched in a 12-foot-high motorcoach. GPS routinely fibs anyway, so if you are going to use it, trust but verify. In this case that meant peeking out the windshield.
The coach driver was from another state, but the entrance to the parkway is clearly marked with regard to commercial vehicles. Clearance signs aren’t “suggestions” but rather signals that the law of physics stating “no two objects can occupy the same space at the same time” will be enforced.
In this case the bus roof and bridge battled to the death, and the bridge won.
It’s possible that the driver didn’t know the height of the coach. The height of modern buses is posted on a placard somewhere in the driver’s area. If you’re driving an unfamiliar model of a coach, it’s worth checking that jewel out before a questionable clearance looms in your windshield.
Modern motorcoaches vary in height from 11 feet 6 inches all the way up to 13 feet 2 inches. Although most current garage doors are 14 feet of higher, some of those antique 12-foot jobs still lurk. Interstate highway overpasses are a minimum of 13 feet 6 inches, but beware construction zones, building porticoes and sneaky underpasses when you transition to local roads.
As you motate down an unfamiliar road, it is best to read the WHOLE clearance sign. Sometimes it gives you the height at the side of the roadway, other times in the middle of an arched overpass.
And occasionally signs lie. When in doubt, slow down, and even stop and look. If a road or driveway has been resurfaced or has snow buildup there may be less clearance than advertised.
Buses have been known to fib too. If yours has aftermarket equipment or antennas on top, trusting the manufacturer’s placard may get you in doo-doo.
No two buses of the same model are EXACTLY the same height. Leveling valve adjustment isn’t always precise, so take care.
Some coaches allow the driver to raise the bus for nasty angles of departure or lower it for special circumstances. It’s a good idea to know which position that switch is in and how much difference it makes.
It can get hairy if you lower the coach and then turn off the engine. Some models return to normal height, and if you’re parked under something low it can get ugly.
Boiled down, it’s good to be familiar with your route and to look out the windshield. That seductive voice in your GPS is NOT your friend. In fact, trust nobody.
Bear in mind that the purveyor of this sage advice once had to back an Eagle demo all the way down the western approach to the Brooklyn Bridge. Fortunately it was late at night and the police officers who gathered to watch the spectacle were all good sports (but there were LOTS of flashing blue lights to punctuate my folly).
I had made the mistake of trusting my “navigator,” who was more adept at reading maps than the signs that clearly spelled out the impending low clearance.
We both looked up in the nick of time.
Dave Millhouser is a bus-industry marketing consultant and freelance writer. Contact him by email at Davemillhouser@gmail.com.
