In my first post I mentioned I was looking at getting my first camper van, but later realized that wasn't quite true. In 1960 when I was a young boy my dad moved us from Medford Oregon to Southern California. I was devastated we were leaving a home I loved and everything Oregon had to offer. SoCal seemed like a prison to me and couldn't wait to get bailed for our yearly vacation to visit family in Oregon.
In 1967 my dad bought our first new vehicle a Dodge van with the long wheel base. At first blush it seemed great big and roomy but something was strange there was this big hot noisy metal box between the front seats. Since my dad didn't believe in wasting money on extras there was no air-conditioning. The back windows only opened a few inches so it got hot. It did come with a radio so at least I could listen to 93 KHJ, anyone remember when AM was king. Our first family outing was fine until we got into the mountains and the van started overheating. Who's bright idea was it to put the engine between the seats. A ritual ensued that would be repeated hundreds of times in the coming years. Pull the van over to the side of the road open the engine cover. Hot van now gets really hot, then pour bucket of water over radiator,now add steam to the heat. What awhile until dad was brave enough to throw a rag over the radiator cap and pull the lever. Next, van fills with tons of steam and everyone bails out. Finally fill radiator and hope you make it to the pass so you don't have to repeat.
When I turned 16 I learned to drive with that van and it was like driving a tank, no power anything on that van. After a few lessons my dad told me it was time to try the freeway. I was nervous as heck and really didn't think I was ready but you didn't tell my dad no. It started out ok I got on the on-ramp and there was one car in front of me and I planned on just doing what he did. As we merged onto the freeway everything seemed fine until the car I was following back left wheel came off and slammed into the car in the middle lane. The car in front of me went into a spin as did the car that got hit and the car in the outside lane. One thing about that big van it didn't do was stop fast and I was headed into three spinning cars. I just aimed for the biggest opening and shot past them without hitting anything. It was real quiet in the van, my dad wasn't screaming at me so I got the courage to ask if I did ok and he said yea. So I asked him if would be ok to get off the freeway and he said yea. We just drove home in silence and took sometime off from driving lessons.
Once I got my license and the van was mine I took out the back seats and put down plywood and some used carpeting with a little padding. This change in my life made living in SoCal bearable due to the freedom to get out of it. That big van could haul everything from backpacks, dirt bikes, scuba gear and sleeping bags and a bunch of teenagers. Our adventures always started the same, everyone pitching in what money they had for gas. I drove that van to my first concert, California Jam. In-route we came upon a school bus and all my buddies mooned the kids, they were laughing and waving but I about had a heart attack when we got up to the driver, it was a nun, I knew I was going to hell.
My last adventure was in 1975, I had enlisted in the military and had a week before I shipped out. I loaded up the van and headed out into the Mojave desert, my favorite place in California. I loved the desert and could easily become a desert rat. When I finally came home on leave the van was gone and after a few days I was going stir-crazy so I asked my dad if I could borrow his car he said sure where are you going, Oregon.
In 1967 my dad bought our first new vehicle a Dodge van with the long wheel base. At first blush it seemed great big and roomy but something was strange there was this big hot noisy metal box between the front seats. Since my dad didn't believe in wasting money on extras there was no air-conditioning. The back windows only opened a few inches so it got hot. It did come with a radio so at least I could listen to 93 KHJ, anyone remember when AM was king. Our first family outing was fine until we got into the mountains and the van started overheating. Who's bright idea was it to put the engine between the seats. A ritual ensued that would be repeated hundreds of times in the coming years. Pull the van over to the side of the road open the engine cover. Hot van now gets really hot, then pour bucket of water over radiator,now add steam to the heat. What awhile until dad was brave enough to throw a rag over the radiator cap and pull the lever. Next, van fills with tons of steam and everyone bails out. Finally fill radiator and hope you make it to the pass so you don't have to repeat.
When I turned 16 I learned to drive with that van and it was like driving a tank, no power anything on that van. After a few lessons my dad told me it was time to try the freeway. I was nervous as heck and really didn't think I was ready but you didn't tell my dad no. It started out ok I got on the on-ramp and there was one car in front of me and I planned on just doing what he did. As we merged onto the freeway everything seemed fine until the car I was following back left wheel came off and slammed into the car in the middle lane. The car in front of me went into a spin as did the car that got hit and the car in the outside lane. One thing about that big van it didn't do was stop fast and I was headed into three spinning cars. I just aimed for the biggest opening and shot past them without hitting anything. It was real quiet in the van, my dad wasn't screaming at me so I got the courage to ask if I did ok and he said yea. So I asked him if would be ok to get off the freeway and he said yea. We just drove home in silence and took sometime off from driving lessons.
Once I got my license and the van was mine I took out the back seats and put down plywood and some used carpeting with a little padding. This change in my life made living in SoCal bearable due to the freedom to get out of it. That big van could haul everything from backpacks, dirt bikes, scuba gear and sleeping bags and a bunch of teenagers. Our adventures always started the same, everyone pitching in what money they had for gas. I drove that van to my first concert, California Jam. In-route we came upon a school bus and all my buddies mooned the kids, they were laughing and waving but I about had a heart attack when we got up to the driver, it was a nun, I knew I was going to hell.
My last adventure was in 1975, I had enlisted in the military and had a week before I shipped out. I loaded up the van and headed out into the Mojave desert, my favorite place in California. I loved the desert and could easily become a desert rat. When I finally came home on leave the van was gone and after a few days I was going stir-crazy so I asked my dad if I could borrow his car he said sure where are you going, Oregon.
