1962 Kamp King Koach Cabover. Same year Ford F350 singles. 292 engine. Clark 5-speed transmission. First was over to the right and down. 2nd was all the way to the left and up. Third was straight down from 2nd. Fourth was to the neutral gate then to the center position then back. Overdrive 5th was straight up from there. Got used to shifting it.
My dad had to co sign for the loan from B of A. They did not want to finance some strange gizmo like the camper. Wonderful planning. Everything went for payments and insurance. Had no money to go anywhere.
Trips anywhere meant recruiting friends and they raided their parents cupboards for canned and boxed food. The camper had a pair of car dome lights and a wall mounted mantle LPG lantern. The water was pump stroked at the sink. The ice box held more ice than food. But it was the stairs that ascended up to the cabover that hooked me. The cabover had a sofa bed.
The boys drank beer up there and stomped their feet to go faster. Spent a week at Lake Strawberry in the sierras and almost froze to death. Everybody remembered beer. Ranier Ale green-death. Blankets were forgotten. Canned Chef Boy R Dee spaghetti, the remnants of a sack full of "Don't Cook Tonight call Chicken Delight" order for four. And forgot the church key for the beer. Got up the next morning, lit off the stove, slipped on a pair of swimming trunks walked out on a wood dock and all of us belittled each other until we all jumped in together. My heart almost stopped. Later that day the guy at the gas station told us the last he heard the lake was in the mid forties. I swear I remember coming out of that water like a Poseidon missile. The 2nd night we slept on all our clothes. I had on something like 5 shirts and two pair of pants. It was all saturated with campfire smoke. At midnight I crawled off the cushions and lit the wall lantern. We arrived back home and I'll bet we didn't have three bucks total.