Outside The Bubble
Fate relocated us from east to west coast for work in Santa Barbara, an epicenter of the ludicrous real estate bubble. "Irrational exuberance" as the sanguine Mr. Greenspan famously blathered. The yawning chasm between housing cost and regional wages would drive us into the RV lifestyle by necessity, then eventually out of state, but that's jumping ahead.
At first we had to resist the siren call of easy money from Mr. Mozillo and his Countrywide cronies looting the landscape with their dubious financialization products. Common sense was the best insurance against being swept away in the mortgage riptide along with frenzied California flippers. In retrospect, the housing bubble was a blessing in disguise to avoid debt serfdom.
Contrarians that we are, a small travel trailer then made perfect sense for affordable living in an RV park within commuting distance of work in La-La land. The really compelling advantage was freedom for future mobility at the time of our choosing to escape California's economic demise.
The Quigley Pod Concept
First we needed to repudiate the Santa Barbara lifestyle and downsize for modest living. Mr. Quigley, in the guise of a venerable 1995 GMC Vandura 3500 1-ton van with rare 4x4 conversion, became the literal vehicle to galvanize this makeover. Here was an affordable escape pod, roomy enough for occasional van camping yet rugged enough to infiltrate remote backcountry locations where we loved to hike.
We had many adventures in Mr. Quigley, including temporary residence during the 2009 Jesusita fire evacuation, but quickly realized full-time RV living required a more spacious conveyance with plumbing and climate control. Accordingly, we sealed our commitment by purchasing a lightweight 21' travel trailer to tow behind the van.
Gypsy Life
The trailer transitioned us to Gypsy life in the Santa Ynez Valley, away from stultifying Condo Association rules and regulations, at a fraction of the cost of renting in Santa Barbara. Moreover, we preferred the more rural, picturesque Valley with so many great hiking adventures close by, after we learned to ignore tourist aberrations like the Casino and Disney-esque Solvang.
Unfortunately, Mr. Quigley's health deteriorated with an ominous rod-bearing knock in the engine so towing our trailer out of state became unthinkable without major surgery. California regulations forbade a transplant to a more muscular V-8 crate engine. Besides, the general decrepitude of body, chassis and transmission components forced us to admit Mr. Quigley's best work days were over. He paved the way and served us well.
Reviewing our Situation
So here we were with trailer home sans tow vehicle and had to review our situation, as Fagin so marvelously soliloquized, especially since the van had become a storage pod for overflow possessions. Most full-time residents in our park had fifth-wheel trailers for good reason, and we reluctantly admitted our downsizing had been overzealous.
As chance would have it, there was an RV show in our Park featuring a leftover Forest River Cardinal fifth wheel at discount. We jumped at the deal after a generous trade-in allowance for our Surveyor; mission creep perhaps but the Cardinal was roomy enough for lifestyle essentials and became a far more comfortable home for over a year while we leisurely searched for a suitable traction engine.
Eventually an affordable 2001 Dodge Ram 2500 4x4 with the mighty Cummins I-6 diesel turned up at auction. Here was a most garish booster rocket in Caltrans orange livery to escape California's gravitational pull. The ignition sequence had begun.
Arizonication
The journey to Arizona was epic for towing neophytes like us. It didn't help we chose to learn hauling at the GCVW limit with a high-mileage 10-year old truck on an unfamiliar route past LA during rush hour. My shattered nerves and fuel bills were enough to confirm we much preferred the concept of a small self-contained motor home for mobile recreation.
We made touchdown in a Tucson RV Resort and reluctantly listed our glorious fifth-wheel for sale, assuming the truck would be sufficient for overnight excursions after we fitted a camper shell and bed liner. The first attempt on Mt. Lemmon was discouraging when it became obvious we needed more space and convenience in our senior years, especially now we had to share with our lovely hound Phoebe.
By chance our neighbors had an old Dodge Coach House for getaway weekends and this rekindled our interest in a well appointed mini motor home one step up from a van conversion. Searches on craigslist found the occasional used Coach House, Pleasure Way or Roadtrek, but they sold quickly indicating these affordable class B mini motorhomes were a hot market.
Yep, we looked briefly at new offerings, epitomized by the popular but overpriced Mercedes Sprinter base, but were not enticed. A major drawback, besides price, was the compromised reliability of diesels thanks to emission regulations requiring particulate filters, afterburners or urea fuel additives.
The Blue Chook
By chance, Chel's angels directed us to the La Mesa RV show at the Pima County fairgrounds where we eagerly anticipated a broad spectrum of motor homes to review. Hardly, as the majority were lumbering Class A leviathans with a cockpit layout to rival a Boeing 747 and starting prices in the mid-200's, as Realtors like to euphemize. We were becoming disillusioned and prepared to move on.
We Coop the Chook
At the last moment we spied an orphan class B+ to our liking. It was a 2001 model with a paltry 33,000 miles on the base Ford Super Duty E-350 dually chassis and had just been traded on some upscale land yacht. The name Chinook meant nothing to us at the time as we were fixated on a "Coach House." Only later research revealed this 2001 Concourse built in Yakima, Washington was the iconic 40th Anniversary model and last of the classic "racing stripe" series at the apogee of Chinook design and quality before the company's demise in 2005.
Our interest intensified after a cursory inspection revealed a wonderful interior layout with oak furnishings, king bed and key requisites for dry camping like solar panels, generator and 32-gallon fresh water tank. Here could be our perfect escape pod at a fraction of the new price.
Time to get serious so I focused my critical eye beyond the attractive interior furnishings on the engine bay then under the chassis for a thorough mechanical appraisal. There was no rust or corrosion, befitting an Arizona vehicle, and the only deterioration was in rubber and plastic parts due to age and sun exposure.
Missed craigslist opportunities taught us to act decisively so we negotiated a deal on the spot. Indeed, other interested parties sniffed about as we closed. After taking delivery I worked through a detailed service checklist on engine, drivetrain, chassis, steering, brakes, tires, auxiliary generator, solar, propane, plumbing, HVAC, refrigerator and related components. All were brought up to perfect working order, if needed, so we could reliably prowl off the grid. This work also taught me the essential tools and spares to pack for field maintenance.
We christened our find the "Blue Chook" (Australians will know what I'm talking about) and soon embarked on several voyages into the rugged mountains south of Tucson. The V-10 Triton engine was smooth and quiet, unlike the Cummins diesel in our Dodge, and averaged 11 mpg with a conservative driving style.
First impressions confirmed the comfortable driving experience with SUV handling and smooth ride Chinooks are noted for. We were extremely lucky to find this gem, widely regarded as the finest two-person motor coach in its day.
Maiden Voyages
Our first overnight trip was to the quaint old mining town of Bisbee where we teetered on the brink of the Lavender Pit mine at Queen Mine RV Park. This park had hookups as backup just in case our coach systems developed a problem: Bisbee
Emboldened by the success of the Bisbee test run, we next went to the famed Chiricahua National Monument without hookups. Here we appreciated the Chinook's compact 21' length to secure a site in the popular Bonita Canyon campground: Chiricahua
Now we were ready to test our rig on unpaved roads. The next challenge lay in the craggy Dragoon Mountains and the fabulous Cochise Stronghold, where the forest service campground beckoned past several miles of dirt washboard road. The E-350 chassis was more than up to the task but our house rattled and shook so much we were reduced to a 10-mph crawl in our own dust cloud. Off roading was not a preferred application for our Chinook: Cochise Stronghold
Kartchner Caverns State Park provided relief on immaculate paved roads and a pleasant base for wanderings into the Whetstone Mountains. This clean, full-service campground was most relaxing: Whetstone Mountains
So far the Blue Chook performed flawlessly, giving us confidence to cross state lines into New Mexico where the City of Rocks was an appealing destination. This trip exposed us to the hazards of dust storms (haboobs) and it was time to review our destinations according to season: City of Rocks
Accordingly, we revisited Rose Canyon at 7,000' on Mt. Lemmon to escape the heat and dust and enjoy a few off-trail hikes: Rose Canyon
Parker Canyon Lake near the Mexican Border was another great outing for the Chook through beautiful wine country around Sonoita and the Mustang / Huachuca Mountains: Parker Lake
These fledgling voyages endeared us to the Blue Chook and confirmed we had chosen the perfect RV for our preferred lifestyle.
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Service manuals are light reading while Phoebe claims the sofa |
Conclusion
We have almost come full circle since the days of Mr. Quigley but in much more style and comfort. The Blue Chook has become our ideal escape pod for the Roving lifestyle. More adventures further afield are assured.
Besides, Phoebe has endorsed the Chook with her contented ride up front, unlike the Dodge truck where the high-pitched whistle of the Cummins Holset turbo aggravated her sensibilities.
Reference
More history of the Chinook Motor Home is here: Chinook
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