The Betavan

For that goeth wump in the night

Everyone in the village knew when it was coming long before it arrived.

Sometimes I was just heading out the door with the dogs, when off in the distance WUMP, WUMP, WUMP would cut like a knife through the crisp morning air.

Other times, I was out in the vineyards, letting the dogs roam, discover whatever discarded bread there may be to liberate when down one of the tractor roads I’d hear the WUMP, WUMP, WUMP casually passing by.

The source of the ‘WUMP’ was always the same, a lone occupant with a tremendous sound system, in a ‘betavan’.

The betavan is just that, a less-than-full van.

They’re very popular in Southern Europe, especially in the rural areas. I suppose the term ‘panel van’ is the more apt manner to describe them, but it leaves out the fact that they’re really just a car with a large, open back, and ugly as sin. What they lack in style, they make up for in potential utility, albeit never truly arriving at being a serious vehicle.

When I grew up, we tooled about in a 1978 Dodge Tradesman 250 that my father had picked up in 1986. My parents were exceedingly-hippie artists, but that, that was a serious vehicle; an alphavan if you will.

It had that nearly-windowless chic of a potential sex offender’s vehicle of choice, yet was a shimmering forest green, thus thankfully eschewing the tell-tale white van vibe that’s mentioned in police bulletins more often than it isn’t.

With a 5.9l/360 cubic inch V8 engine, it had the power of a minor deity, cast into a block of steel. As my father put it, “It could drive straight up a telephone pole if given the traction.”