Keïteï Ventures

5am – I’m not entirely sure I fell into a deep sleep or not…

Before we could attach the tiny house, Max had a few side quests to complete before the final boss mission.

These included moving some sheets of 6mm plywood, a local farmer had brought about 12 of them off me and the rest were coming down south. We collected them, drop 12 off and then put the rest in the tiny house.

Next we headed out to buy some ballast or 10mm to dust. This was going to aid Kermit – Max’s land rover and give us more weight and prevent us from being push around by the tiny. It was forecast rain so the extra weight would give us traction to get out of Robin Hoods Bay – a 25% hill which went on for half a mile.

Next we got some snacks from Aldi to see us through our journey and then a spot of lunch from Bothams bakery. 

We ate at the tiny house, out of the rain and running through all the jobs left to do. I secured all the lose items inside, popped on the chimney hat and slowly lowered the tiny house back to the ground. It’s wheels were currently off the ground so the inside would be level to aid with it’s building work. Max started the process of winching the tiny house out. Since the tiny house had been reversed into position, two trailers had appeared in from it. These were worse for wear meaning we couldn’t tow them out the way so Max had opted to winch the tiny house forth. It came, tiny footsteps until it was free. 

Once there was room, Max hooked the tiny up and pulled it out onto the road. It was strange to see the Tiny mobile again. I said good bye to Simon the land owner and off we went. I ran along side the tiny house, filming it as it went. There had been a bike race through the village today which had worked in our favour and the road were quiet and all the parked local cars were gone.

Running passed by Boss’s house, I saw they were in and knocked. My boss and work-wife answered and marvelled at the tiny house. I bid them a quick good bye and ran to hop into Kermit.

Off we went, slow and steady she went, preparing for the 25% hill. Max dropping down gears and using the full range of Kermit’s levers. A few cars were behind us but they would just have to wait. The hill was slow going and suddenly a pick up pull out and drew level with us. I couldn’t make out what they were saying but Max nodded twice concentrating on steering Kermit. The man sped off.

    “What did he say?” I ask
    “We’ve lost a wheel” Max replied – which of course was not good but stopping on the road out of Robin Hoods Bay was not an option either. Steam was also starting to bellow out from beneath Kermit’s hood. Pulling into a convenient lay by about ten meters from the top of the hill. Luckily the car park (usually full of campers and van dwellers) was empty allowing us to swing round and come to a stop.

Luckily Kermit didn’t over heat but had been seconds away from doing so. We jump out to access the damage, we were indeed missing a wheel. Seconds later the work land rover pulls in with my boss and work-wife in tow, followed by Simon and the local in the pick up. The tiny houses’ now bust wheel in the back. I retrieved it but it was un-usable. Thankfully Max had suggested I buy a spare, just in case. 

It was a team effort to install the new wheel as we had to lift up the tiny house and install the wheel. Luckily Simon had picked up the bolts, they were a little bruised but useable. To support the new wheel with the bolts, Max took one good one from each other wheel. With the help of my friends, we heaved the tiny house up and on to several chunks of wood, fitted the wheel and we were ready for round two.

Bidding farewell to my friends again, I filmed Max leave the car park and ascend the final part of the hill. Hopping back in, I dived into Kermit and away we went.

It was 5pm. We had scouted a nearby lay by, in which we would check the tyres again, on Kermit too and Max was going to install a pair of supporting tow bars. We turned off and pulled into the unused road which had been empty last time we were there. Half a dozen campers and caravans had parked up and we were quite the sight. Max began drilling into the tiny’s trailer and attached the bars. A man from a nearby caravan took great interest in us and began to approach. I smiled and he raised an arm, pointing at Max.

    “You’re my absolute hero, Maximus Ironthumper” and he held out his hand, eager for a hand shake. Max has quite the following online and Kermit, his yellow land-rover is quite well known too. The local was a huge fan of Max and Kermit.

 Once Max had affixed the stabilisers and I had secured the indicators to the rear of the tiny house, we were good to go. With help from the local, Max reversed back up and out the lay by, we were good to go. Pulling out, it was going to be a slow journey the entire way, 30mph tops. The tiny bid a farewell to the North Yorkshire Moors once and for all.

Sticking to the main roads, we avoided smaller roads and kept to those used by double decker buses. The tiny house towed a lot better with the stabilisers and we soon joined the motorway. Dusk was falling so we turned on the orange beckons indicating that the tiny house was a slow moving vehical but once on the motorway, other could pass us with ease. We drove on and the rain started, plummeling the wind screen. Pulling into a service station, Max checked over Kermit and also the tiny house for any signs of rubbing in the wheel arch, all good.

We attracted the attention of several lorry drivers who were very keen for photos and to ask Max about his load. Topping up the water from the drain pipe on the tiny house, Kermit was performing admirably as was Max. 

Midnight came and went. A motorway closed and we were diverted through Birmingham…not ideal but thankfully it was 2am and no was about. Spare a few drunkards who had to look twice at a wooden house sailing by. 

We reached the M5 by 3:30am, Somerset getting closer with every slow mile. We pulled into a service station for a break. A polish lorry driver approached with a grin.

    “Woah, amazing! My wife will never believe this, can I make some photos?” he asked holding his phone up.
    “Of course” said Max amused that Kermit and the tiny were creating such interest. Guess it’s not every day you see a wooden house on wheels being towed by a land rover. 

Soon the sky was beginning to lighten up and the outline of trees were forming.  Dawn was fast approaching. We pulled off the motorway for a final time and followed the roads leading to Max’s home and the tiny houses’ new location. It was 7am by this point and commuters were out in force. Every car we passed gorped at the tiny and Kermit, kids pointed and smiled. We passed an elderly lady walking a    dog who literally stopped dead in her tracks and pivoted on the spot as we sailed by.

Pulling into Max’s drive, we had made it! No other dramas or things having things fall off. We rejoiced, marvelled at the tiny house, trying to let the journey sink         in before heading to bed.