Good Bye Old Camper

The moving game continues. Our Cox pop-up camper was towed away to a junk yard today. They also took Michael's rusted out Yamaha motorcycle. The cycle we were glad to see go. We tried for a long time to get Michael to give it up because of the inherent danger, but to no avail. I used to have nightmares about him and his infernal machine. But Michael didn't share our concerns. Finally, when he moved to Nashville, the motorcycle stayed behind and it's been deteriorating ever since. Good bye and good riddance.

The camper, on the other hand, was an old friend. I loved that trailer. It was a pop-up but a unique one at that. Rather than a hard plastic roof seen on most of these foldups, this one had a canvas top that, when unfolded, gave the thing the look of a connestoga wagon. Inside you felt as if you were in a tent not a trailer. So it melded the convenience and luxury of a trailer with the rustic spirit of a tent. Cox, the manufacturer, was the only company designing these campers in that way and they had a bit of cult following. As if finding an old comrade, we always enjoyed spotting another on the road or in a campground.

Many wonderful years camping were enjoyed in that camper. We bought it after a horrible camping trip when Michael was but three months old! We started out in a Buick station wagon, loaded to the gills, with us, Michael, his carriage, a folding playpen, a tent, camping supplies and two dogs. Our destination? Colorado. Michael was colicky and cried and fussed a lot. it started to rain a bit. Then a bit more. Then a lot more. Um, it was not a great way to go camping: rainy weather, two dogs, a crying baby a mud-soaked tent, wet clothes. We loved camping (I still do; I think that, sadly, Stacey has "outgrown" it) and didn't want to give it up. A camper seemed the right solution and it was.


Mike, enjoying the beauty of a Vermont lake. Camping, 1988.

This cute little pop-up had a stove, two comfortable double beds (and a third if you needed it), an icebox, a sink, curtains. It was cozy and comfy, even in the rain. We took it everywhere! Vermont, Maine, the Adirondacks, Cape Cod, the Laurentians in Canada, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, up to Camp Kinderland during picture-taking time and many other places of natural beauty. It was always a good, steady companion.


Stacey exiting the Cox camper that gave us so many years of pleasure.

So I'm very sad to see it go ... another end of a part of my life. When we opened it up to prepare it for towing we were shocked at what five years of non-use had wrought. It had been sitting in our driveway, ignored and abandoned. Exposure to the elements had turned the plastic tarp that covered and protected it into a sieve. Nature did its damage and took its toll. Inside, the beautiful canvas top had mildewed. If you so much as touched it, it shredded into shards like a piece of old newsprint. The plywood insert was more moldy powder than a wood sheet. And there was filthy black water in the containers that held our supplies and in the sink. Depressing.


Can't imagine life without those camping trips with the kids.
Memories that ought to last forever.


Mike and our camper. Camping in Vermont, 1988

In the back of my mind I'm determined to be camping again and soon. Maybe not with the elegant and "luxurious" camper that I loved so much but, perhaps, in a tent at the side of a lake and under the stars. My parents imbued a love of nature and travel that will not depart with the junking of this old trailer.


On a dreary day, Stacey bids farewell to our old friend.