The Camper That Started It All

When I say Mark grew up camping, I really mean it.  He has camped his entire life.

It was a white 1964 Corvair Van.  A camping van complete with a little refrigerator, sink and stove.  They later added a little pop up for the top that added another sleeping spot.  Then came a little awning to give shade when they were set up.  His parents were adventurous.  They’d taken their Corvair Van across country in addition to trips to the river before Mark was born.  His older brother Mike’s first camping trip was at the ripe old age of three weeks.

Mark’s first camping trip was to Tommy Kinders Camp at the Colorado River on the California side in October 1966 when he was three months old.  They fashioned a baby bed in the back of the van for Mark and big brother Mike slept on pillows on the floor.

Other trips were to Lake Havasu where they’d drive down a dirt road on Arizona side and park lakeside where there was enough space.  That Corvair van successfully pulled and launched their little 45-horsepower boat.

Their hottest trip was to Lake Mead over July 4th in 1967.  His mother Gail says the daytime temps had to have been close to 120 and the nighttime temps were well over 100. It was the first trip that they left early to come home.  They were miserable, adults and kids alike.  They packed up the campers, pulled the boats out of the water and started home.  They found a place with air conditioning to hang out for a while and let the sun set before continuing on.  There was a hill climb on the road home, which is now I-15 where the temperatures dropped to a more comfortable level.  Too tired from the heat to drive anymore, they pulled off the highway, opened the van doors and stayed there for the night.  She said they got up early the next morning and finished their drive home.

Trips to Mexico started in 1968 in a truck and camper.  Their very first trip was Easter weekend.  They were supposed to meet friends at Campo Rio Hardy which was off to the left down a dirt road 40 miles south of the border on Mexico Highway 5 at 10am but just missed them.  They went down to the next dirt road, then the next and decided dirt road number five was the last one.  If they didn’t find their friends at this dirt road, it was time to turn around.  Their caravan was three vehicles so the guys got in one truck to check down the dirt roads while the rest of the group waited on the side of the road.  Luckily their friends found them and took them to the water ski paradise that is Campo Mosqueda.

 

They bought Old Yellow in 1974 after a disastrous trip to Mexico where the truck bellowed smoke and breathed its last breath in Calipatria on Highway 111 by the Salton Sea.  Old Yellow was a 22-foot Dodge Sportsman with a giant booth in the back that broke down to a king sized plus bed; the perfect size for three quickly growing boys.  Gail and her husband Jim slept in the bed over the cab.

Old Yellow took them on many trips year round.  Dirt bike trips to Oak Springs, Calico, Bell Mountain and Big Bear.  Too many motorcycle races to count.  That doesn’t count about ten trips a year down to their place in Mexico that they named Campos Buenos Tiempos.

For many years they spent Thanksgiving down in Mexico riding dirt bikes instead of water skiing.  The oven was small, even for a motor home.  Gail and her sister Loretta knew the measurements and found turkeys that would fit.  Like our current Thanksgiving in the dirt at Ocotillo Wells, they had a traditional feast with all the trimmings out of their teeny tiny ovens and two-burner stoves.

In 1980, they embarked on a three-week trip across country with Loretta and her family.  Two motor homes cruising down the highway, sometimes with new 16-year-old drivers.  Mark’s brother Mike and cousin Heidi had just turned 16 and were more than willing to give it a go.  Gail told me the first stretch they got to drive was through New Mexico which ended up being more city driving with lots of lefts and rights.  She said that the parents were quite nervous but the kids were confidently holding the steering wheel like “we got this.”  I’m sure, positive in fact, that Mark and his younger brother Matt were being over dramatic in the back of that RV in a “we’re all gonna die” sort of way.  I can totally picture it.

Old Yellow didn’t have a generator so the roof mounted air conditioner only worked while plugged into electrical power.  This made for some hot drives.  My first trip was a Memorial Day weekend water ski trip to Mexico.  We sat in the giant dinette area in the back with the windows wide open to create a breeze and if we got too hot we would huddle up at the front to catch a bit of the dash air conditioner.  Trips in Old Yellow were fun no matter how hot the temperature got.  I was lucky enough to go on several Mexico trips and Sacramento Delta trip.

Gail and Jim divorced shortly after Mark and I got married and Old Yellow stayed safely on the side yard of Gail’s house.  Jim let us use it just about whenever we wanted.  We were so cool, 22 years old driving it down to San Diego for the weekend and to Mexico to water ski.  We cooked everything outside, we were camping after all.

Our last trip in Old Yellow was the summer of 1997 back to the Sacramento River Delta.  She was showing her age but we didn’t care.  We had a new boat to explore the thousand miles of waterway.  Our friends Shawn & Lisa were joining us in their tent.  We had a fun week seeing more of the delta than on the previous trip.  We motored up to Old Town Sacramento, watched the 4th of July fireworks show floating in the water by Frank’s Tract and even had an adventure when we got lost.  Old Yellow was ready for our return, relaxing in the shade.  We found out when we got home that Arizona was in our immediate future and we couldn’t take it with us.  Old Yellow lived on for many more years.  Mark’s cousin Heidi took it to northern California and had years of enjoyment with her family.

The next generation of campers will join us soon.  Our son Kevin and his wife, Tayler now have a toy-hauler trailer.  I see lots of adventures and stories in their future as well.

Camp on fellow campers, camp on.