In 1974 I spent my honeymoon in a homemade wooden cab-over camper on the Wyoming prairie where my husband, David, was working on a construction site and living in a “man camp”. Women were not allowed, but somehow we managed to get around this restriction. The security guard became our protector and admitted he had a soft spot for young couples in love. In the late twilight of the summers’ evenings, for our entertainment, he would recite Shakespeare at our open camper door. Since the camper looked like the portable “shacks” that sheep herders lived in, we called it our sheep shack. The camper had been built on the site by two cement finishers.
Four days after our wedding in Missouri, David brought me to the campsite and I had my first view of our new home. It was late at night, but the utility light at the end of the extension cord showed me the full scope of the interior. My husband had tried very hard to spruce it up for me…bright orange and yellow paint on the cabinets, flowered yellow and orange towels for curtains, and a fuzzy blanket in yellow with little critters patterned across it. What a sight! It was so pathetic and yet so thoughtful that I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or just thank him for the obvious effort it took to make the camper look inviting. We left Wyoming with that camper in the bed of our old ’55 Ford pick-up and traveled another 5000 miles in complete happiness and comfort, despite no plumbing and few conveniences. Wedding gifts of a toaster oven, two-burner hot plate and crock-pot were our only means of cooking. A jug filled with water and a basin completed the “kitchen”. We have had numerous campers and trailers over the past 36 years, but none as memorable as our very first; the “sheep shack”.
Submitted by Barbara Fitzgerald of Ste. Genevieve, MO as a part of the RV Centennial Celebration “Share Your Favorite RV Memory” contest.
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