Tailor your
trailer with RV raconteur
Motor home fiend is the king of the road, and
Doug Clark is along for the ride.
Doug Clark - The Spokesman-Review
 |
They don't offer college degrees in
the kind of history David Woodworth
majored in. He earned his
credentials not in classrooms, but
by digging through automotive boneyards and putt-putting down
highways in contraptions older than
the average grandfather. Woodworth
is an RV historian. As in
recreational vehicles. He owns the
largest collection of antique RVs
and related gear in the country,
according to an industry
association. A consultant for the
Smithsonian Institution, Woodworth
is probably the planet's foremost
expert on the camping-mobile. |
 |
When I started
getting into this, I realized I can be an
authority and not know much because nobody knows
anything about it,'' says Woodworth, 58, who
puts 35,000 miles a year on his motor home. The
Tahachapi, Calif., resident brought his RV road
show to Spokane on Friday with his wife, Sharon.
Woodworth, a
retired Baptist preacher, drives a
state-of-the-art 1998 Winnebago slightly smaller
than the Exxon Valdez. A trailer behind the
Winnebago contains a fully restored 1921
Lampsteed Kampkar, one of only two in existence.
As
the son of the inventor of ``the Outdoor Toilet
Strap,'' I relished interviewing Woodworth. I
needed to find out if my late father was an
outdoorsman ahead of his time or just plain out
of his mind. My young psyche was scarred by my
old man's delusion that he was Daniel Boone. A
Chicagoan who had no business in the woods, he
converted the family's green 1952 Chevy wagon
into a poor man's RV. He built plywood boxes to
hold all our grub. At night he folded down the
back seat and rolled out a piece of foam. We
slept crammed like herring, listening to his
buzz saw snore.
One year, his
aged mother took a train from Chi-town to join
us on a vagabond adventure. The only bears she
had seen played on Soldier Field. Arthritic and
overweight, my grandma -- whom we immediately
nicknamed ``Bear Bait'' -- discovered she was
too infirm to attend to nature's call in the
wild. That's the trouble with going out into
the woods. It sounds so romantic until you have
to actually GO out in the woods. A pragmatic
man, my dad got out some canvas belts. He then
strapped grandma's squatting bulk to a tree.
``I could patent this system,'' he told us as we
went into laughing fits.
According to Woodworth, my grandmother's dilemma
actually had been solved in 1919.
The
Imperial Toilet Tent ($15.95) hooked a nifty
two-holer seat to a tree and then covered the
entire apparatus with silk walls. People forget
that Americans have been modifying the
automobile for camping purposes since about
1910, says Woodworth. ``It's everything that's
America,'' he says. ``It's not something that
precludes people. Everyone can get out and enjoy
America in varying degrees.''
There is a lot of
room between those degrees. A modern pioneer,
for example, can buy a used tent trailer for
$1,000. Or plunk down $80,000 for a Winnebago
like Woodworth's. That ride is sinfully
decadent. It has plush carpet, Surround Sound,
bedroom and living room walls that expand. A
rear-mounted video camera and dashboard monitor
lets the driver see what's coming up behind
him. I ask Woodworth if this kind of camping is
cheating. He tells me about a rich friend who
has an $800,000 rig. The thing is customized
with every high-tech luxury. He even tows a car
in another trailer for those emergency runs for
milk and eggs. Yeah, says Woodworth, the guy
just gets out and pushes a button. The back end
of the trailer slowly lowers to the ground,
whisper-quiet. Then he just hops in and drives
his Ferrari convertible to the store. Roughing
it has come a long way since the Outdoor Toilet
Strap.
From a
1921 brochure:
"Make this the kind of a vacation you've
always dreamed about - enjoy the splendor of
Yellowstone,
the majesty of the Grand Canyon, visit balmy
Palm Beach or the great North Woods. Go
anywhere you wish - on your own schedule, over
your own railroad system in your own private
car, stopping at your own hotel, eating your own
cooking at your own table - all in great comfort
and at a price you can easily afford.
The Lampsteed Kampkar Body, complete with full
equipment and ready to mount on a standard model
"T" Ford Chassis costs only $535.00 including
war tax." Manufactured by Anhauser-Busch, St.
Louis MO from 1921-1926.