The Gong Show

B auction. According to provenance, Cobain had used a Sharpie to sketch portraits of the members of Kiss in full Seventies-era makeup on the van’s side, making it an artifact in his deeply examined rise from Aberdeen punk kid to immortal rock god.

Cobain’s contribution was perhaps too ephemeral to elevate the Melvan to big-ticket memorabilia; it eventually sold for a fraction of its initial six-figure reserve in a private transaction to a couple in Olympia, Washington. (They also own an apartment where Cobain once lived.)

Recently, pop-culture YouTuber ScottOnTape visited the Melvan at its current home in a remote three-car garage outside Olympia. Scott, who declined to give his last name, produced a walkaround video, uncovering the 50-year-old Sportsman after a decade out of the spotlight.

The Melvan hasn’t been driven in at least 25 years, according to its owners. Save for Cobain’s sketch, the exterior is a pastiche of spray-can graffiti, dirt, scratches, and rust patina. The upholstery covering its bucket seats is shredded. There’s surface rust on the ceiling and an “I Brake for Rodeos” bumper sticker below one of its picture windows. Extending across the cargo floor is a filthy peagreen carpet whose fibers, it’s fair to assume, bear untold substances.

Indeed, ravaged by disuse and time, the Melvan doesn’t rate much as a mode of transportation. Still, considering its origin story, there’s a case to be made that it is the archetype by which all other punk-rock tour vans might be judged.

“To some people, this is just an old, cruddy van, ” Scott narrated in his video, “but this is music history right here. ”

A. It aged exactly like you’d expect of grunge royalty. B. The Road & Track van (which doesn’t exist, but should) would definitely wear an

R&T sticker. C. The front end speaks for itself.

C