My name is Kyue (with a silent "e"). I am the spirit of adventure and recreation in the physical form (today) of a small motor home. I wander the highways and back roads of America in search of fun and adventure. I am an oasis of rest and warmth and a comfortable haven in times of stress and bad weather. I am shelter and safety. I am a faithful servant and a relentless but good-natured trickster. I am transportation. I am home. I am Q.
I haven't always been a motor home, of course, few come into this world so flush - although I guess some do - or maybe as a yacht, or a luxury hotel suite, or a mountain cabin, or some such. No, I began life as a tent in the trunk of a car. Even that might seem flush to some who travel with a pair of hiking boots toting a sleeping bag. In the early sixty's, being a tent in a car was the only way to become part of a young growing family on a very low income. Mark was kind of use to traveling that way so it seemed a natural thing to do for him but Joy wasn't so sure.
On his ill maintained website he tells how camping was how his family spent their vacations as he grew up. He says that he doesn't remember that any of their trips were particularly outstanding except that he was bored a great deal of the time. They were long - usually about 4 weeks - but they would usually stay within a 200 mile radius of home, spending a week or so at each campground. They probably didn't move around much because it took several hours to set up camp with a large, heavy, floor-less wall tent (headquarters and bedroom for his folks), the kitchen area on the end of a picnic table under a large dining fly and a tent or jungle hammock for each of the four kids. And it took almost as long to take it down and load up the utility trailer at the end of the stay.
His family wasn't poor but there wasn't much money to spend on kid activities or entertainment either. And bicycles were considered unnecessary and took up too much space so were left at home. There was usually swimming (but not always) and sometimes a mountain trail or two to hike but they mainly just sat around the campsite doing nothing. It was a change in routine good for the normally busy adults but it came up short for kids.
In the narrative, he is quick to point out that the restful change of routine was mostly his father's. His mother was still in charge of cooking the meals and cleaning up afterward. She also did most of the work other than making and breaking camp! The change in routine for her was that she did it outdoors without running water.
Back in those days camping in many State and National Parks was free and the others were close to it. He tells how his father came back to the car after registering at one State Park shaking his head and commenting that $1.25 a night was pretty expensive. There weren't many private campgrounds back then and staying in one was never considered. The ones along the roads were not particularly attractive or inviting. And no doubt they cost a lot more than $1.25 a night.
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