Frank recalls his lifelong love of camping and RVing.
By Frank Cloutier, F290058
October 2017
As a child, I camped with my folks during our annual two-week summer vacation. We used a six-man, World War II surplus tent. I later did a lot of camping on the way to my Eagle Scout badge. I even used World War II pup tents when I was in the Army in the 1950s. But my first taste of RVing was with a $700 Apache pop-up camper in Alaska in 1964. And a wonderful introduction it was. By that time, my wife, Durelle, and I had two children, ages 1 and 3.
We were stationed in Anchorage, and for three years we took that opportunity to go camping every weekend from May to Labor Day. The small United States Air Force group to which I belonged took advantage of the wonderful Alaskan environment; we left Elmendorf Air Force Base every Friday afternoon and returned on Sunday evening. The RV was always packed with everything except perishables, so an early Friday getaway was easy.
In 1966 we arrived at the Air Force Academy in Colorado. We had sold the Apache in Alaska and had upgraded to a Coleman pop-up. Our Jeep Wagoneer pulled it. We towed that pop-up all over Colorado, many times off-road above 11,000 feet. Sometimes I used it for winter hunting trips.
After the academy, we left Colorado in our 1972 Winnebago Brave. It was our first Type A motorhome, and only 18 feet long. In Ohio we used it primarily as a locker room as our two kids competed in an endless array of swim meets. In 1976 we all lived in it as we waited for base housing to be available. By “we,” I mean my wife and me; our teenage children, Cindy and Mark; plus a dog and two tomcats. We survived, and the rig went on to new glories and 120,000 miles. I sold it in 1978.
It would be 20 years before we bought another RV. After more work and transitioning to civilian life, I retired for good in March 1997. That fall we bought a 34-foot, 1998 Fleetwood Bounder off the floor of an RV show in Boston. In the next five years we put about 40,000 miles on it, mostly up and down the East Coast.
In 2001 we joined FMCA, based upon recommendations from fellow RVers. I’ve bought a half-dozen Michelin tires using the FMCA tire discount program. FMCA’s Medical Emergency and Travel Assistance Program was also a factor. I signed up to assist fellow members as a Pinch Hit Driver and Mechanics’ Helper in FMCA’s “Stoppin’ Spots” list.
I later volunteered to be a driver for Angel Bus, a non-FMCA group that uses otherwise idle motorhomes and drivers for the transportation of patients who cannot afford a long-distance ambulance but need electrical power, refrigerated medicines, and room for a health-care provider.
We next traded to a 2003 Allegro Bus with a 330-horsepower Caterpillar engine, our first rear-engine diesel. I loved it. The next year we took it south as we moved from our riverfront home in Nashua, New Hampshire, to Charleston, South Carolina. From there we made summer trips to Maine and winter trips to Florida totaling another 45,000 miles.
We traded that coach in for a 40-foot 2007 Allegro Bus. After spending a year with the usual short trips, we geared up for an 11,000-mile “Lap Around America” in 2008. That was when I started my travel blog, “Travels and Discoveries” (franklcloutier.blogspot.com). I have made nearly 750 posts to that blog.
For the past few years we have accumulated fewer miles as we have spent the summer in one spot on the mid-coast of Maine. It’s less than 40 miles from Hinckley, where FMCA got its start. As we approach our 80s, being seasonal campers with familiar camping friends seems much more comfortable than making an endless series of short stays or one-nighters. Setting up and packing up take more energy than we want to regularly expend.
Over seven decades, camping has evolved on a path parallel to our approach to life. Now, just watching the whitecaps sparkle on Penobscot Bay seems to satisfy my need for excitement, and I do not consider that to be a failing. Over the years we have been privileged to have literally thousands of neighbors. And what a variety it has been! So many perspectives, aptitudes, personalities, and pets. So many tales that have been told around campfires or at happy hours.
For every calamity, large or small, there was always someone willing and able to help. The RV family is not a superficial description; it is a real feeling that is both intimate and universal. But I’m not a Pollyanna. As in every community, some unkind RVers have crossed our path. But they are few, ignorable, and soon depart.
I still have good friends from school, college, the Air Force, and several major defense companies. There are friends from neighborhoods where we have lived while not on the road and from assorted volunteer activities. But as a group, the friends I would turn to first are those I’ve made in the RV family.