These are pics sent to me by Tobin and Christa, of their trip around
North America which took place during the early months of 1995. The
descriptions are as supplied by Tobin.
Click on a thumbnail image to see the full-sized image.
Just a few hours before we got to Martha's house, we got stuck in 1" of mud in a field near Colusa, California. The slimy, sticky clay soil clogged the tire treads and made it impossible to get any traction at all. That's me shovelling gravel under the rear wheels. I thought we'd have to put our chains on, but a farmer came along and pulled us out. Christa thought it was very funny.
The bus meet at Pfieffer State Park, Big Sur, California. Only five busses remained to weather the second night, and weather we had. We circled the wagons with the sliding doors in, and with the help of three BIG tarps, made a cozy site for ourselves. The 'picnic' part of the event was pretty much a wash-out, as the quickly-abandoned tables attest. That's Bradley Prunehead's '66, with David Schwarze's '73 Safare in front of it, and my '76 Westy beside it. Martha's '82 Westy is parked sideways at the end.
Another shot of the five remaining hard-core campers. My Mango '76 Westy is in front (with almost 14,000 miles yet to go on our trip!), with Steve Johnson's '91 Westy behind. Before this weekend, Steve's bus had nice white carpeting...
Here's most of the Big Sur group. From left to right, John Huguenard, Sarah Rubin, Martha Rubin (behind Sarah), Carol Huguenard (with their dog), David Schwarze, Steve Johnson (with wife Linda in front of him), Tobin Copley being obscured by Steve's head, Jeff Schneiter at the back, Christa Ovenell in flannel at the front, Steve Wall and his partner, Bradley Prunehead, Bill Abbott (in front), and Dave Garth.
Taking advantage of a break in the rain for another shot of some of the gang (left to right): John and Carol Huguenard, me (Tobin Copley) (in flannel), Bill Abbott, Sarah Rubin, Jeff Schneiter, Linda Johnson, Bradley Prunehead, Dave Garth, and my partner Christa Ovenell (did I mention the flannel?). Oh, and the Huguenard's dog, too.
Me standing proudly beside our mango '76 Westy (no, it's not yellow, not orange, it's mango). That's Steve's '91 behind me, and Martha's '82 behind it. Lookit Steve's cool alloy wheels!
After over a week of non-stop rain along the California coast, we decided to make a run for the desert on the assumption that the desert would be dry, that it would stop raining, that it might warm up, that we might actually get good sunny days. WRONG. So here we are on a dirt road in the muddy Mojave Desert, hoping we won't get stuck (again). A brief respite from the rain, and a short appearance made by the sun was judged to be sufficient for a photo op. We gave Death Valley a miss, figuring that it would probably fill up with water, if it hadn't already.
Our cozy campsite on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Christa tells me it got a little nippy that night, but fortunately (?) I was so drunk I didn't notice. Beware drinking at 7,000 feet!
Spot the camper. Grand Canyon is a breath-taking place, and winter is a good time to go. At times it seemed like we had the park to ourselves; try that in summer time!
Here we are exploring the back country near Sedona, Arizona. Sedona is famous for it's red rock formations, and driving on dirt roads left the bus with a beautiful layer of red dust/muck all over it! (This picture was taken early, before we really got dirty).
Finally: Mexico! Our first Mexican campsite, just south of Ensenada, just off the road to La Bufadora. Beautiful site, and cost only 3 pesos. To get here: take Hwy 23 to La Bufadora from Maneadero to Campo #8, just past Punta Banda. Drive down the rough dirt track to the lowest site you can find, and you're there!
At Santa Rosalia, our camper finally gets a blumenvase! I cut the top of a coke can and duct-taped it to the dashboard. Fresh roadside wildflowers everyday! That's Christa, very pleased with my decorating abilities. The recent rains in California must have given some rain to the Baja as well, as the desert was in bloom and incredibly green.
(David) Hmmm... let's see if this scanner can really do 4800 dpi :)
(David) The blumenvase, in all it's glory. Note the excellent duct tape engineering. The scanner does indeed do 4800 dpi, but it's kinda blurry. This and the last one are 400dpi.
Putting across the Baja between Loreto and Ciudad Insurgentes at about 5:30 am. Mexican roosters started crowing just after 3:00 am (Why?!), so we bailed out of Loreto before dawn.
Christa and me and our free campsite on the beach at Playa Tecolote, just north of La Paz. We were originally just going to stay overnight and take the ferry to the mainland the next day, but we liked it so much here we decided to stay a few extra days! Very, very, beautiful, and highly recommended. To get there: take hwy 11 north of La Paz to Pichilingue (where the ferry to the mainland departs). Keep going past the ferry terminal, keeping to the right at every intersection with a paved road. About 50m before the road terminates at the beach, turn right unto a dirt road, and follow it a short distance to the beach camping area. If you want more isolated camping, keep on the dirt road east bound, towards Punta Coyote, about 5 km to the east.
Exploring off the beaten track about 100 mi from Oaxaca, in south central Mexico. If you want to get away from tourist-oriented Mexico, this is the kind of driving where our arrival in a small town would literally bring all activity to a halt. We'd step out of the van, and all eyes would be on us. We found people in areas like this to be extremely friendly and helpful, especially after we give the crowd a smile and a wave. One women led us to her house and gave us ice she had frozen herself from of her own freezer. Note the illegible road sign (common in Mexico) at the junction behind us. The nearest paved road lies well beyond the horizon in the far distance.
A blowup of the illegible road sign
We met this fellow, John LaPlante, as he came up behind us as we were driving just south of Tampico, Mexico. After stopping and chatting, we discovered that our busses are the same year, same model, same colour, same interior, AND were originally purchased from the same dealership in Massachusetts! Our busses are siblings! Freaky, or what?
The general store in Learned, Mississippi. There's a sign in front of the Learned High School proudly proclaiming Learned to be the Home of the Rebuls. I am not making this up.
(David) In August of 2000, I got e-mail from Mr. Tommy Ford (fivefordstwo@netzero.com), who was familiar with the history of Learned, Mississippi. It read as follows:
[Regarding Tobin & Christa's trip across North America, thought you might be interesting in knowing the origin of the curious spelling of "rebel" in the Mississippi town of Learned. This school was founded in the 1960's by parents from a number of small towns. After arguing long and hard over the name of the school they decided to use the names of the communities from which the majority of the students originated, Raymond, Edwards, Bolton, Utica, and Learned. (R.E.B.U.L.) Little did they realize that this intentional mispelling of rebel would be something that would have to be explained again & again for years to come. The full name is Rebul Academy. Nice picture of the old store.]
(David again) What a great example of the power of the internet... thanks for the explanation Tommy.
Hey! It's Joel Walker with his 83/85/88 vanagon in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. It's a nice bus, but it could really use a few more lights...
Joel's '68 (I think) double cab, waiting for restoration.
Joel in his kitchen in front of his kitchen cabinets. Judging from their contents, Joel eats a strange diet of oil and air filters, halogen bulbs, and spark plugs, usually washed down with some undercoating spray.
Christa and our much-loved camper in front of the Gaffney Peach! Since you'll all want to run out to see this eighth wonder of the world, it's located just off I-85 in Gaffney, South Carolina, about 10 mi south of the North Carolina state line.
Exploring the backroads of Virginia in the Blue Ridge Mountains. If memory serves, this is somewhere near Ferrum, VA, about 40 mi south of Roanoke.
Cavendish County, Prince Edward Island, Canada. Very pretty, rather cold, and the Island seems to close for the winter. Hardly any traffic, though, so that's nice. The next morning, it took me 20 minutes to get into the camper because a freezing rain storm had frozen the doors shut. Didn't help that the door seals wanted to stay on the body of the car instead of coming with the door...
Grand Falls, New Brunswick, Canada. Ok... You know the kind of morning when it's so cold that when you open the door to your motel room all the air from outside rushes in, turns to ice crystals as it condenses, and falls on the floor as instant snow? You know how you mean to swap out the 20w50 oil for real light stuff but don't get around to it because it's dark and cold outside? You know how West Coast people have never heard of block heaters? Uh huh. So it's 30 below celsius, and the engine oil is like cake icing. Try to start the bus. Try to start the bus. Try to start the bus. Etc. End up getting towed down the road almost a kilometre until the happy camper finally fires up. Thank gods for the gas heater and the heavy plastic shower curtain separating the cab from the rest of the bus: even at this temperature, we were pretty cozy once we got going!
Scenic viewpoint off I-90 in central South Dakota. We're getting pretty good at hand-held self portraits, as we have done about 13,500 miles on the trip by this point. Behind us is the scenic view they built the viewpoint for. Hey, forget the Grand Canyon, I'm coming here next time instead!
Will Self, his partner Margaret, and his '83 brick outside their home in Billings, Montana. Will did some really cool cabinet work inside his transporter to give it a big bed, really slick (and big!) sliding drawers, and deep compartments for tools and stuff. Will also makes really great beer.
