Tribal Travels, Musings, and Jawbone Canyon Chapter 4 by R. Cane

The grandparents had retired, and traveled around the country extensively in a classic old Ford F-150 pickup truck, onto which they had installed a deluxe live-in camper. You know, the kind where a big part juts out over the cab of the pickup truck, and has a house type door in the back.


Camper Truck

Inside there was a lovely and efficient little kitchen - with sink, stove, and a Servel dual gas and electric refrigerator (which fascinated my mechanical side to no end - this marvelous technological duality). There was also a table with bench seats on either side, which area converted to a double bed, and of course a nice double bed in the overhead part. Four folks could fit in it nicely, usually, depending on which pets, friends, or cousins might be also traveling with us. Over the years, sis and I found ourselves frequently in this home on wheels, as the grandparents took various getaway weekend trips, or made runs to visit various of our aunts and uncles. Sometimes - on some of the longer trips - we were able to plan or connive side trips – for educational purposes - to visit various monuments, historical sites, battlefields, parks and campgrounds or other natural wonders; The Grand Canyon, Painted Desert, Death Valley, Yosemite, Crater Lake... and far too many parks and attractions to be recalled here.

Clear Lake - was a frequent weekend favorite, where friends and relatives allowed us the use of their cabins for a few days at a time. The drive was long, but soon all landmarks and roads were memorized - the tricky turns and twists - side roads or roads known only by landmarks (make a left where the old store used to be) and ... well, once there.... then we would fish ..and boy would we fish ... grandad and grams both fished ... although Gramps really was in charge of 'drowning worms' as he called fishin' ... but now I digress ... I'll come back to this in another tale.

Of course getting to these various places required many miles of driving... and it was quite a juggle to decide who would ride in front with Grams and Gramps. There was just a good ol' bench seat for 3 in the truck cab, so there was a rotation of who would ride back in the camper. Being the oldest, it was usually my lot to be stuck in the camper as we cruised the roadways. This was not such a bad deal, with the exception that we could not communicate from the truck to the camper.


Pit Stop

We dreamed of walkie-talkies ... but in those days they were really expensive, so always remained just a wish.... I do recall many frustrations of trying to alert, or communicate, from the camper to the truck, or vise versa. No problem today with cell phones, but this was long before such existed. We simply had to wait for the next gas station or rest stop to talk to each other.

In spite of the communication problem, I passed many pleasant hours spent stretched out on the over-the-cab bed. I would daydream and muse over the issues and challenges of my growing up, all the while watching oncoming traffic, and enjoying the passing landscape. Being 'stuck' in the back turned out to be a perfect refuge, that allowed for introspective thought, reading or just daydreaming. I really loved laying in the big bed over the cab, and looking out the windows letting the world – literally – pass by.

Irreplaceable, and wonderfully great memories! What a way to travel.

[Editor's note: This story was written by R. Cane and is part of a 10 story series]