Sometime in the early 1970s, my parents returned from Colorado to the East Coast to visit with family and to take care of unfinished business after our nine-month trip. Once we got there, my Aunt Cindy asked us to transport two horses to a show. So, my dad picked up a two-horse trailer.
At the last minute, Aunt Cindy also asked us if we could pick up a pony they had just purchased in Chintogue at “Pony Penning Day.”
My dad looked at the trailer and looked at the space in the front where tack a
One of my favorite FMCA members was Ed Martel and his wife, Dot. He had a classic Marmon-Herrington coach that he converted himself, and he had chromed out everything he could in this coach until it shined.
While most guys have hot rods that they chrome out, Ed chromed out his home on wheels, including the engine and much of the interior. Women would frequently joke that they could put their makeup on while looking at the engine. Wherever he couldn't cover it with chrome, he used polished al
At one FMCA rally, my dad pulled in late Friday afternoon, after most of the sites with hookups were taken. He asked the rally coordinator (who was standing around with others from the same chapter) where to park and they told him there was a great spot with plenty of power at the end of the row. Of course, they had decided to play a trick on him since they all knew that that site's hookups were dead!
As they stood around and watched, my dad quickly figured out there was no power, but he made h
My parents joined the FMCA around 1969, after purchasing their first motorhome, a converted city bus. This first bus had no power, and my dad was constantly working on the thing, but we loved the motorhoming life anyway. They decided that a larger coach was needed, so in 1970 they purchased a 35-foot 1957 Fitzjohn Roadrunner. Soon after, they sold our home in Connecticut and we travled around the country for eight months.
We finally settled in Colorado, but since my parents were both teachers,