The Great Motorhome Adventure of 1988

I know that I said that this would be mostly VEGA$ memories, but the Great Motorhome Adventure of 1988 has very little to do with that town, except for two small cameo appearances.

It was the Fall of 1988. I'd been in San Luis Obispo for about a year and a half, and I was about to make a substantial career change from an entry-level position at a tiny automated "elevator music" station, to becoming Operations Manager for a mid-sized public radio station (where I’m STILL employed!) and I needed a little break.

The VEGA$ Club boys and I had been talking about taking a longer, non-VEGA$centric trip, and Roger had an acquaintance that owned a motorhome that he was willing to rent to us for cheap... so the planning began! Roger, Charley, and I were going for sure and we were looking for a fourth traveling companion. There was a friend I’d met while going to school in Stockton (We’ll call him Breck) who was up for it. Breck was of the personality that would normally make him a shoe-in as an official member of The VEGA$ Club, but for reasons that have never been satisfactorily explained, he doesn’t care for gambling!

Roger, having a bit of Travel Agent gene in him (check out his cool travel website here!) sketched out a rough itinerary that would depart from L.A. (where we would pick up the motorhome), through VEGA$, continuing on through the great southwest. The excitement and anticipation mounted during the weeks preceding the trip, I easily conjured up visions of Charley manning the galley whipping up a platter full of tasty sandwiches, Roger and I playing Canasta at the dinette, while Breck piloted the mighty beast across the desert. It would be heaven! To commemorate the trip, I decided to present my fellow travelers with useful gifts! I had recently come across an amazing bargain on men’s dress wingtip shoes, made of a thick durable leather-look vinyl. I was able to get 4 pairs for less than $40 total! There’s nothing more important to take on a pseudo-camping trip than formal men’s footware! I surreptitiously gathered the shoe sizes of the boys, and made my purchase.

The big day began with an early morning news shift at the new radio station, which was over at 8:00 a.m. Then I hopped in my 1984 Honda CRX and headed south, stopping in Montecito to pick up Breck. I presented him with his new pair of shoes, which he gratefully and enthusiastically accepted. We then continued south to Irvine, stopping at my parents house for a short lunch. Then we headed across town to Charley’s, where he accepted his travel gift with much less gratitude and enthusiasm than Breck. In fact, he was downright confused. We transferred our growing pile of luggage and passengers into Charley’s larger car and headed back up to the Los Angeles area, where Roger was living. With Roger’s permission, we broke into his house by jimmying the back door with a swiss-army knife and waited for him to get home from work. As I recall, he was pretty impressed with the wingtips, so overall I had a 66% approval rating on my gifts (75% if you included me!).

We gathered our sizable amount of luggage, coolers, snacks, TV, VCR, blender, toaster-oven, etc. into a staging area in Roger’s living room and headed off to pick up our rig! We had decided to christen her “Pegasus” after the great winged horse, that with a stroke of his hoof caused the fountain Hippocrene to spring forth from Mount Helicon. Plus, it sounded cool… like in, “C’mon fellows, get back in Pegasus!”

Do you remember the movie Stripes? The great 1981 Bill Murray / Harold Ramis film? Remember the “Urban Assault Vehicle” in the later part of that movie? That’s the same model of RV that would become Pegasus. It was manufactured by GMC in the late 70’s / early 80’s and had a very “rounded” look. Kind of like an AMC Pacer on a much larger scale. Ours was an attractive pastel yellow. The owner handed us the keys after a very half-assed explanation of how to work the thing, and we were on our own. Some of the things that he neglected to tell us about:

The fresh water system

Treating the sewage (aka “black water”)

Emptying the waste tank

The self-leveling system

The furnace/air conditioning systems

How to convert the dinette into a bed

Connecting to the hookups at campsites

Turning on the hot-water heater

Operating the propane-powered refrigerator and stove

Operating the on-board generator.

The various electrical systems (AC vs. Battery vs. Generator)

And the list could go on. I’ve been camping a few times since, but at the time, none of us had ANY experience with this kind of equipment. We were a bit nervous, but determined just the same. As Roger started the engine, a buzzer sounded on the center console, and a small yellow light came on, illuminating some sort of printed warning, as he leaned over to try to read what it said, it promptly went out, and the buzzer stopped. We all looked at each other and shrugged. Roger carefully piloted us back to his house where we loaded up the supplies. About an hour later we were on the road! Once again, Roger started the engine, and the buzzer/light combination came on for a few seconds, then went off. By now it was nearly 8 p.m. and the plan was to spend the night at the marginal Circusland RV park, next to Circus Circus in VEGA$. I had been up since about 4:30 that morning, so I crawled into the large rear bedroom area for some shuteye. I was rudely awakened somewhere around Barstow by what felt like Roger trying to swerve around a dead coyote. I thought we were lucky we didn’t roll the damned thing two hours after picking it up. Then I heard a chorus of “Woo Hoo’s" from the cockpit, so I stumbled forward to find out what the hell was going on. It turns out that Roger and Charley had switched seats while doing 60 mph on Interstate 15! Charley was now driving, and Roger was in the Navigators seat. Jesus!

Everything went fine until we were about 20 miles south of VEGA$ when a loud high-pitched screaming sound started coming from the right rear wheel area. We pulled over and Charley and Breck went out to see what was up. It was quite cold out there, so I stayed inside Pegasus. They determined that the top of the wheel was scraping on the frame of the vehicle, but couldn’t figure out why. Without getting too technical, we finally discovered what the little buzzer/light combo was trying to tell us. The suspension system had two modes, “Travel Mode” and “Camping Mode” or something like that. When in “Camping Mode” there are heavy-duty rubber “pillows” that inflate or deflate above the rear wheels to keep the home level. When in “Travel Mode” they inflate to keep the wheel off the frame. The little warning buzzer/light said something to the effect of, “SET SUSPENSION TO TRAVEL MODE WHILE DRIVING”, which of course we didn’t do. Driving 200 miles in “Camping Mode” had blown some sort of gasket on the rubber pillow. Since it was now around 2 a.m. and freezing, we limped into town at about 40 miles an hour in the breakdown lane, and managed to get checked into Circusland. No one slept very well, because we had no idea what our next move was going to be. The next morning, we got out the yellow pages and found a mobile-mechanic that said he could come over and take a look. He was just a regular auto mechanic, not an RV mechanic, but he certainly knew more about it than we did! He quickly found the problem, which was a rubber gasket about the size of a quarter that was broken. It looked like a very specialized part that your local Kragen probably wouldn’t keep in stock. The mechanic (we’ll call him Our Savior) shook his head dejectedly, and took a large coffee can out of the back of his van. The can was filled with miscellaneous nuts, bolts, washers, screws, etc. About a minute into his search he exclaimed, “Well, I’ll be damned!” and pulled out the exact gasket that we needed! He charged us something incredibly cheap... like $40, and was on his way. The mood of the group improved immensely! After a Circus Circus breakfast, we were on the road again, in what was undoubtedly the shortest VEGA$ trip in the history of the club!

Next stop: Arizona’s magnificent Grand Canyon! I quickly discovered that the reality of life on the road didn't quite live up to my dreams. The ride was far too bumpy for Charley to do much work in the kitchen, other than to grab a bag of chips, or can of soda. And to my dismay, none of us knew how to play Canasta! Another thing we quickly learned was that Pegasus guzzled gasoline like there was no tomorrow! We had agreed to take turns paying for gas, and my first turn came at a small Shell station in rural Arizona where the attendant informed me that after the first $50 was pumped, he’d have to run my card, then start pumping again to finish the fill-up! It was beginning to look like it would’ve been cheaper to rent a car and stay in luxury hotels the entire trip. This feeling would be reinforced over and over as the vacation continued! The campground at the Grand Canyon was the opposite of the awful Circusland! Beautiful pine trees, deer walking about freely… finally a touch of the great outdoors! As we entered the park, we noticed that the little ranger hut at the entrance was unmanned. Charley was driving, and he took note of a sign saying that the ranger was off duty for the night, and to please pay the next day. We got all set up, and were enjoying the afternoon when we noticed that there was a small gage that seemed to indicate that our wastewater tank was near full. Apparently 4 showers, a couple of dishwashings, and a few uses of the restroom were all it took! This was another thing that none of us had a clue about dealing with. Roger had some recollection of seeing dump areas at certain gas stations, so we vowed to keep an eye open for such a place. In the meantime, I took a tour of the exterior of Pegasus, taking note of a multitude of controls, connectors, cords, cables, and hoses. I was looking for the wastewater valve to no avail. Finally, I got down on my hands and knees behind the rig and saw a large round fitting that had the look and smell of a sewer connection! I gingerly fiddled with it for long enough to realize that I probably shouldn’t fiddle with it anymore if I wanted to avoid a rude surprise.

We had decided to have dinner at a nice restaurant we had heard about in within the park area, and we quickly realized that since it was not in walking distance, we would have to disconnect everything in order to drive to the restaurant. What a hassle! As we drove up a small hill on the way to the restaurant, I noticed that from the back window of the RV it appeared that a river of blue liquid was running down the middle of the road. I soon realized to my horror that by driving up the hill we had somehow opened up the wastewater valve (thanks, in part, to my fiddling, I’m sure!) and were draining our holding tank onto the pristine Grand Canyon National Park! I told the guys and the reaction was a strange mix of laughter, embarrassment, and fear as we looked around for witnesses, or worse... park rangers! When we got to the restaurant, I checked the control, and sure enough the tank was empty! We had a nice dinner, and I think we all slept quite well. We’d figured out how to fire up the furnace, and we were able to keep the interior comfortably warm. There was really only room for three people to have real beds, unfortunately. Two people comfortably fit on the large rear mattress, and one person on the dinette. The fourth person had to sleep on the floor in the kitchen area on a foam pad that Charley had wisely brought along. We rotated sleeping positions so nobody was stuck on the floor for more than a night or two.

The next morning we packed up, and headed out to see the sites of the Grand Canyon. At this point Roger was driving, and was unaware that we hadn’t paid for the camp site on the way in. As he approached the ranger kiosk, a park ranger stepped out and held up his hand, indicating that he wanted us to stop… Roger gave him a friendly wave back and accelerated down the road! We all screamed, “What are you doing? He wanted us to stop!” Roger replied, “Nah! He was just waving goodbye!" We kept an eye out the back window fully expecting pursuit, but I guess they figured that we weren't worth it. So, not only did we empty our sewage in the park, we ripped off the campground for the price of a night’s stay. We did enjoy the views of the canyon, but I kept looking over my shoulder for the long arm of the law.

We continued driving east, making a brief stop at the famous Meteor Crater tourist attraction. When we discovered that it was $6 per person to see the crater, we decided to pass, and be content looking at the photos of it in the gift shop. We stopped for the night in a cold, desolate, town called Holbrook, AZ where we found a mediocre KOA-style Kampground. The high-point of the kampsite was the fact that they had cable TV for a small extra fee. We paid the fee, and the clerk handed a 20’ coil of coax cable that connected to the electrical post at our kampsite. We snaked it through one of the front windows and attached it to the back of our entertainment system. It was my turn to sleep on the floor that night, and I’ve never been much of a floor sleeper. As the night wore on, the temperature dropped like a rock. Memory puts the overnight low at about 12°, but in reality it was probably in the low 30’s. For some reason, the furnace refused to stay lit. At some point we noticed that the pilot light kept blowing out, due to the fierce arctic winds that were blowing into the external furnace vent. One of the geniuses on board (it very well could have been me) decided to seal up the vent with aluminum foil, in order to aid with keeping the pilot lit. After the foil was in place, Roger bent down to light the pilot… the flame touched the unvented buildup of propane gas, and a gunshot-like BANG! rocked the poor Pegasus, as a cone of flame shot out of the pilot-light access hole. Luckily, Roger was using one of those BBQ lighters with a long handle, so he wasn’t killed. We went outside to check on the piece of foil, and it had been blown about 15 feet away! It was going to be a long cooold night! Charley had done some backpacking, and had a fancy sleeping bag that was rated to stay warm down to 0° or some damn thing like that. My bag was a “slumberjack” more suited to pajama parties in the bonus room. Roger, Breck, and I had joked about slicing Charley open and warming our hands in his innards, but by about 2 a.m. it really didn’t seem like bad idea. I spent the entire night trying to light and relight the furnace, but it just kept going out. I finally got up around 5 a.m., broke the icicles off from under my nostrils, and ran to the main building where I stood under a hot shower for about a half-hour. What a miserable night! When the little kamp store opened up, we asked the friendly clerk if he could tell us what might be wrong with the furnace. The first thing he asked us (which, in hindsight, seems obvious) was, "Did you run out of propane?" Sadly, the answer was yes, and none of us was smart enough to realize that. All it would have taken was a $5 fill up the night before, and we could have avoided one of the worst nights of my life!

Next stop, Santa Fe, NM! We continued east, taking note of highway signs listing mileage to the confusingly named Las Vegas, New Mexico. It was soon time to empty the tank again, and we were determined to do it the right way! We found an RV- friendly gas station, and asked the cashier about dumping our waste. He directed us around to the back of the station where there was an unassuming black plastic drain plug screwed into the ground. We found a flexible hose stored in Pegasus’ rear bumper, and one end fit snugly in the hole in the ground, but not one of us four college-educated young men could figure out how to attach the other end of the hose to the nasty outlet at the back of the 'home'. We finally broke down and asked the gas station clerk for assistance. He took one look at the hose, and proclaimed that there was a part missing! We were ecstatic that it wasn’t stupidity that was keeping us from dumping our load! He directed us to a nearby Autozone, and we were back in business! A couple of hours later we made a pit stop to stretch our legs, and take in the beauty of the desert, when we noticed a green puddle forming under the engine of the mighty Pegasus. “Jesus Christ, what next???” I asked. We opened the hood to find that one of the cooling hoses coming from the radiator had shifted a couple of inches and was rubbing against the fan belt. The abrasion had eventually burned through the hose… hence the leaking! We filled the radiator with all of the water that we had, and limped into a nearby town. Once again we lucked out and found a mechanic willing and able to replace and re-seat the hose while we had lunch in a quaint western diner. We made it into Santa Fe without further incident. Our campground was walking distance to downtown, where we took a nice walking tour of the city. We looked pretty snazzy in our matching wingtips, if I do say so myself! We found a video store and decided to rent Stripes for the evening’s entertainment! We got back to the campground where (from a payphone) we ordered a pizza to be delivered right to the door of the RV! Pretty cool. So, that night we had pizza, beer, and a movie.

The next morning we had a general meeting where we concluded that the overall delicacy of Pegasus had us all in fear of what would break next. We were afraid of being stranded in the middle of the desert, as well as the mounting repair bills. We got out our U.S. map and decided to quit heading east, and head north to Denver instead. Roger knew of a luxurious hotel in the heart of the city, we called and easily booked a couple of rooms. It was the beginning of Thanksgiving weekend, and when we arrived, the hotel was practically empty! We were able to park the piece of shi… er, I mean Pegasus in a large lot behind the hotel. As we were checking in Roger worked his magic with the desk clerk and managed to get us a HUGE corner suite with a wet bar, living room, and two large bedrooms for something ridiculous like $75. What a change from the miserable accommodations of the RV! To top it off we were just in time for the free “Happy Hour” with free snacks and cocktails! Not just beer and wine, but a full bar… FREE, I tell you! Breck and I filled up on snacks and booze, and Roger and Charley went off in search of a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, which they found at a nearby hotel restaurant. The next day we walked the clean, abandoned, downtown area of the city, and I bought an electric space heater for what would be our final night in Pegasus the following night. We also gathered supplies for our in-room wet bar and spent the afternoon making Margaritas and watching a Thanksgiving “Leave it to Beaver-thon” on TV. It sure beat the hell out of camping!

The next day we bid a tearful farewell to our wonderful suite, and piled back into Pegasus for a treacherous journey through the Rocky mountains. I'll admit right now, that the day we left Denver, (the Saturday after Thanksgiving) is very much a blur. The only real highlight that I can recall is driving through a blizzard in the Rocky mountains while listening to truckers on the CB radio talking about where they were going to stop to put their chains on. Obviously we didn't have chains. We were praying that the substantial weight of Pegasus would keep us from sliding across I-70. At one point during this period Breck was driving, and a deer ran out in front of us. He did amazingly job, he said, "Oh Shit!" and gently applied the brakes and kept the steering wheel straight. All I remember is that the deer didn't get hit, and we didn't slide. The other amazing thing about that day is that we drove 750 miles, and burned nearly 100 gallons of gas, ending up in VEGA$ some 16 hours later. I'm sorry to say that I didn't pull my weight when it came to driving. I had trouble enough in Pegasus' pilot's seat on a wide open interstate, but when you throw mountains, snow, and darkness into the mix... no thank you! By the time we checked back into Circusland, we were dead tired, and it was a very cold night. Not wanting to mess with the furnace anymore, I plugged in my brand new Black and Decker electric space heater, and drifted off into a deep sleep. I woke up about 11 hours later; Breck was still asleep, Roger and Charley had gone for breakfast and some gambling and it was about 93 degrees in there. Boy did that space heater work!

The drive home from there was fairly uneventful, we were all in sort of a strange mood. We kept saying things like, "Boy, in a few years we're going to look back at this and laugh!" Well, now it's been over 16 years, and I have to say that it's true. I look back on that trip fondly, and it's amazing what little details come back to my mind as I was writing this entry.