(As a follow-up to our recent van trip to Arizona, here’s one from 2011 when we took our Dodge Chinook on its last long trip)
My family will confirm that I am susceptible to mood swings. In my sunny moments (usually when the sun is actually out), I think nothing of throwing some clothes and food into a thirty-five year old camper sitting forlorn all winter out back, and heading off on a 2200 mile trip to remote mountains. But the clouds of doubt, doom and lack of preparation threaten perpetually in the background, waiting for the wrong moment to darken the sky and wag their fingers “I told you so”. It took a while, but they finally had their say in the depths of the Lost River Range in Idaho, about as far away from civilization as possible on the whole trip.
The Dodge 360 V8 was happily bellowing up a steep pass at full throttle, doing about fifty-five or so, on Highway 93 somewhere between the almost non-existent hamlets of Ellis and Challis. Suddenly, a violent jerking set in, as if someone was turning the ignition on and off repeatedly every second or so. Our speed quickly dropped. We were on the way home from a two-week vacation in our 1977 Dodge Chinook to Glacier National Park. I already had to fix two smaller issues, neither of which threatened our forward progress. But here it was, the moment my doubts had predicted: the Chinook was finally going to crap out on us, truly in the middle of nowhere. My pessimistic side had mentally prepared myself to abandon ship on this trip, but if it had to be, at least it was going to be on the way home.
But the sun was actually shining that day.
Before I recap our adventures (and breakdowns) of this 2200 mile trip, a little bit of background on our CC Camper is called for. I picked it up from a guy down the street for $1200 nine years ago, when the bug to hit the road suddenly hit (again). It had a tree branch sticking out of its fiberglass roof like a solitary antler, the result of a winter storm. That led to a crash course on fiberglass repair, which led to a crash course on RV interior renovation, as much of the original lime-green shag carpeting lining the forward upper nook and the floor were rotten, as well as way too much for the eyes.
But the very seventies’ paisley curtains have been lovingly repaired by Stephanie; can’t toss that little bit of vintage interior decor history out. Actually, she hates them, but it was easier than making new ones.
Anyway, by the time I got all that interior work done back in 2003, it was time for a winter escape trip to Baja, without ever really checking out its mechanicals. We just fixed them as they presented themselves on that shake-down trip, including a bad fan that damaged the water pump, and front wheel bearings rolling in a powder of brown rust instead of grease. That kind of set a pattern: have toolbox, will travel. And travel we did, those first few years, racking up some 25k miles in several trips to Baja, as well as throughout the South West and West Coast.
But I’m getting older, as is the Chinook, and the last few years we’ve stayed pretty close to home with it, which is hardly a problem in Oregon, as there’s so much to see here. But Glacier was always on our bucket list, so we hopped in the old bucket and off we went, with just a quick check of the fluids and tire pressure. And a few minor tools in a little plastic tackle box. Not really the kind of preparation you might expect or hope for, but then how can you cover all the contingencies on a thirty-five year old vehicle? That’s me rationalizing; I just haven’t had or made the time.
One of the reasons we haven’t made long trips recently is because the thing is so damn noisy at speed. The rubber seals in the doors and on the engine dog-house are all near-shot, and there just is next to nothing in terms of sound insulation. That goes for heat too, from the motor and exhaust pipes under foot, literally. And BTW, the A/C was non-functional since we got it (frozen compressor), so that whole affair was tossed overboard long ago (along with other non-essentials like the hot water heater and furnace) in my effort to rid potential complications and save weight. The propane stove and refrigerator are the two main amenities, as well as the bathroom. And comfy beds, of course.
I know some will argue that it’s ultimately cheaper to stay in hotels and such, but either you’re a camper, or you’re not. And knowing that the pillow and blankets are predictably yours as you lay down with the sound of a stream babbling or the winds in the pines beats any hotel, for us anyway. I sleep like a baby in the Chinook, better than at home or the finest hotel.
Our trips are always in the fall and winter, but it can still get toasty in September. Oh well. Anyway, the solution to the noise was a set of Bose noise-canceling earphones. Amazing: you put them on, hit the switch, and suddenly it’s heavenly quiet, in there. And if one does listen to music, every instrument can be heard clear as a bell, at low volume too. My ears are pretty shot (tinnitus), and this was a lot quicker solution then soundproofing it. Yes; I know there are undoubtedly legalities involved, and I do take them off going through towns.
We took the direct (800 mile) route to Glacier, via I84, I82, 395 and I90. Cruise control (which usually works in the summer and fall, and often not in winter/spring) set at 65. That’s about as fast as I want to roll at, given the 4.10 rear axle calculates to just over 3000 rpm at that speed. The one time I let myself get rushed and tried to keep up with California traffic (75-80 mph), I cracked an exhaust manifold.
There was one memorable reason to pull over from our driving and stop: the America’s Miracle Museum in Polson, MT. It’s a home-spun museum with a decidedly political twist, but an amazing collection for what it is. These Big Boy Tonka Toys out front made sure we stopped. That T-Speedster is way too nice to be sitting out there in the open. And I haven’t seen a White 3000 in ages…but then that gives you an idea how this place is run. Awesome collection of historical motorcycles…another post to write up.
One of the main reasons for rushing off so hurriedly was to drive over the legendary Going To The Sun Road that bisects Glacier, and is of course famous for its fleet of red 1937 White coaches. These have always had a powerful pull on me, as they so remind me of the old yellow Post buses that used to ply the Alpine roads of my childhood, with their tops rolled back just like Glacier’s fleet. A separate CC on them is in the works too.
That famously narrow and twisty feat of mountain road engineering closes on or about the 15th of September each year. It’s also very restrictive as to size limitations of the vehicles that are allowed, with a maximum length of 21 feet, height of ten feet, and outside-mirror to mirror width of eight feet. I knew the Chinook would just make that, and it turned out to be the only “camper” of any sort we saw. And an encounter with one of the old/new buses (now riding on new Ford E-450 chassis and drive train) on the narrowest section was a tight squeeze. The very top two pictures are from the the way up to Logan Pass.
At Logan pass, we had our first encounter with the red “Jammers” (for the sound of gears being jammed on the down grades, before they got automatics and disc brakes) as well as the actual mountain goats that have long been the icons of the park and fleet.
We came to Glacier to hike, and the park is a hiker’s paradise, especially the east side. Yes, I’m in my true element in places like this. We spent the first five days at Many Glacier, which is one of a several campgrounds situated near the old grand lodges that the Great Northern Railroad built in the nineteen-teens. The railroad crosses the Rockies at Glacier, and there are still stations and Lodges at both East and West Glacier for those who want to arrive via Amtrak today.
Glacier is more about what the glaciers carved into spectacular valleys and cliffs that the actual glaciers themselves, which are of course quickly disappearing. And there is a superb network of hiking trails emanating from the campgrounds into the numerous valleys, and up to high glacier lakes or even higher yet, to the passes that separate them. These are mostly longish hikes, typically ten miles or more.
Grinnell Glacier is a popular hiking destination, being one of the more accessible of the remaining glaciers. Much of it is now a lake, in the summers anyway. But the chilly fall night had left a thin layer of ice on this day.
We saw plenty of wildlife, from this bunch of bachelor big horn sheep, to moose, and of course, bears. Well, the bears (grizzlies) we actually saw were off on the hillside with binoculars. But we just missed an encounter with a bear that was described to us by hikers shortly behind us. According to this backpacker, a grizzly charged him on the trail, and it took a warning shot from the revolver he was carrying to get the bear to change directions. Guns were made legal in National Parks a couple of years ago, but discharging them creates complications, and lots of reports. Let’s just say that the rangers would rather you’d not take that approach. And we were more than a bit anxious hiking back that stretch of the trail. The berries were very ripe just there.
Our longest hike was up to Lookout Mountain, which sits prominently in the middle of the Park, and has a sublime 360 degree view. The howling wind on top was a challenge, almost as much as the sixteen mile round-trip hike and 3600 feet elevation gain. After that, even twelve-milers seemed like just a long stroll. All of our urban hiking was paying off.
The weather was unsettled those first few days, and it culminated in a big storm, which brought the first snow fall to the higher elevations. We decided to get out of the wind, rain and snow and head east, into the Blackfoot Reservation, and the town of Browning to catch the Plains Indian Museum there.
Stephanie always razzes me about why I don’t run the old Dodge’s wipers continuously, but only a single swipe once every so often when absolutely necessary. She forgot that the linkage fell apart once on a trip to the Wallowa Mountains some years back, and the fix then was a bit sketchy. I knew it was just a matter of time…bang, bang, bang: her wiper stopped working, and a nasty clanging emitted every sweep of mine.
The screwdriver was used to remove the sheet metal piece above the hood that covers the linkage, and sure enough one of the original plastic thingamajigs that holds the linkage to the arms had crumbled away. That’s the problem with old vehicles: it’s not usually so much an engine blowing up as it is critical little pieces of plastic deteriorating, everywhere.
Fortunately, it was the arm of the linkage going back to the passenger side that came off and was banging freely in there, so a piece of wire to snug it up against the other arm kept it from flaying around, even if Stephanie was going to have to live with no wiper instead of just an occasional one. Never needed it again after the storm passed anyway.
The next little problem was a plumbing one. One of the joys of an RV is having a plumbing system, especially a non-leaking one. When we first got the Chinook, that could not be said of the toilet holding tank. It took us getting to Baja to figure out what the problem was. “Stinky” needed a new tank, and a shorter outlet valve, to keep it from hitting curbs, which is what caused the problem. Anyway, this time it was the water system, which I had just mostly replaced last summer after the old one burst during a cold spell the previous winter when I had forgotten to drain it.
This past winter I did drain it, so what was squirting out all under the sink cabinet? Since we don’t have a hot water heater (we just heat up a pot on the stove for tea or a sponge bath), I had just capped the hot water inlet to the Moen faucet. But…there obviously was water trapped in that copper inlet pipe from the faucet, and must have created a crack. Oddly, it was in the middle of our trip before it suddenly gave loose. Solution: keep “rolling up” the copper pipe until it only emitted the occasional drop; into the recycling bucket directly below it. Two problems down, one to go.
After that brief storm, the weather turned warm and crystal clear; record setting warmth, even. So I e-mailed Jim Cavanaugh, and told him that I was going to be a few days late. We just had to go down to the Two Medicine Valley, and hike there. When I first got to know Stephanie, she was afraid of heights and exposures like this. Now I can’t hardly keep up with her. I know if I use the word “mountain goat” it would just be another case of me putting my foot in my mouth. Mountain Deer? Naw, she hates them with a passion. Cougar? No, that doesn’t quite apply either. I am almost two years older. How about just Mountain Girl?
Reluctantly, we extricated ourselves from the Park, having had almost no contact with the outside world for most of that time. Yes! Just like the old days! No cell phones or internet. How did we get along without them? All too well. Vacations were really vacations; I remember the days when I’d tell my Secretary: “see you in two (or three) weeks”. And the world didn’t stop spinning. And CC is still here too! I couldn’t have imagined that some months back; now I see (again) how important it is to really let go every so often. Very rejuvenating.
So after a last, fast hike up to Scenic Viewpoint on Saturday, overlooking the southern part of the Park and probably 100 miles eastwards into the plains, it was time to go. But the return trip would be all two-lane highways, with maximum scenic value. We circled the southern edge of the park via Hwy 2, headed down splendoriffic Hwy 83, and pulled off by a remote creek-side camping spot on National Forest land. The only downside to National Parks is having to camp in their campgrounds, but in mid-late September, the other folks that are there are very quiet at least. And the $10 off-season primitive-status fee per night is reasonable. But it was nice to be all alone again.
Sunday morning we continued down to Missoula, where we filled up the gas tank before the drive town Hwy 93 to Stanley, Idaho, for a planned overnight at the foot of the Sawtooth Mountains on Stanley Lake. About three-quarters of the way there is where it happened, the engine violently bucking on and off.
I knew it couldn’t be the ignition; with an old points system like my Ford, burnt points can cause a miss. But this was different, like someone was turning the gasoline on and off, to be more precise. Sure enough, as soon as I backed off the throttle, it ran fine. There was a critical point where it was being starved of fuel. A fuel pump going bad? As we made it over the pass at a lower speed, that’s what came to mind. But I’ve never had one go on me, on the go. I assumed it was more an all-or-nothing thing (this is the old-style mechanical pump that runs off the engine).
After the next pass was taken at an even slower speed, I thought about it some more: clearly not enough gas getting to the engine, but maybe it wasn’t the pump, but a plugged fuel filter not letting enough gas through for full-throttle operation. Hmm…never looked at it or considered changing it…now I wish I had.
A bit slowly, we made it to the one-horse town of Challis, which actually had a gas station with genuine service bays, just like in the old days. Only one problem: it was closed on Sundays, of course.
I knew dealing with the fuel pump was a lost cause, so I slid under and located the fuel filter. Potential problem: if I removed it, how would I bridge the gap. I wasn’t exactly carrying any spare fuel line. Aha! the evaporative fuel canister assembly was down there too, just a little ways ahead, with two sizes of fuel lines connected to it. So just like when I watched my vasectomy being performed, I started snipping away at little hoses. The first size didn’t fit, but the second one was a go. The other end of it was obviously a vacuum line to the intake, so I plugged that using one of the spare hose clamps, since now I needed only two, not all four, and used my small removable screwdriver bit for the plug, not finding any thing better without an extensive search.
Well, there was little doubt about it being the fuel filter, since when I removed it, tipping it one way brought a steady stream and the other way a dribble. More like an enlarged prostrate surgery than a vasectomy, but who needs a fuel filter anyway? My old lawnmowers with out them…do plug up every so often.
The now well-fed 360 started up with its usual puff of stinky smoke (bad valve seal?), and we roared off wondering just how much risk there was to driving without it. I had good intentions to stop near Boise and pop a new one in at a car parts store. Never acted on it though.
We made it to Stanley Lake just in time to watch the last glow of sunlight on the mountains. This was a nostalgic moment, as our first RV trip (in a rental) ten years ago to Yellowstone and the Tetons started here. It left a lasting impression to be able to pull into a campsite late on a cold night and look across the lake without having to set up a tent, etc…
Monday morning was to be the 535 mile dash home, even if it was planned via the longer scenic route down south to Ontario, and then straight across on spectacular Oregon Hwy 20. That is, if we had no further incidents. Which we damn near did. And it was all my fault too.
The Chinook has never had a working gas gauge, and I’ve had no inclination to fix it. Hey; I’m a minimalist, and was weaned on old VWs that didn’t have a gas gauge until 1961 (or 1962?). I always keep track of my mileage each fill up, and write it down, and the number of gallons, on that deteriorating folded piece of paper on my sun visor. The tank capacity is (supposedly) 36 gallons. The Chinook always gets right around eleven mpg. So I just stop before three hundred miles are up. And that’s never been a problem, before.
Perhaps I was too relaxed or just still high from the mountain air, so I planned my next fuel stop to be in or around Horseshoe Bend, which I (mentally) calculated from the map to be some 280 miles. I obviously dropped a “one” somewhere, and that “one” just happened to be in the hundreds column. As we rolled through Stanley, Stephanie said: “don’t you want to fill up?” Nope; we’ve got plenty…
The drive on Hwy 21 is spectacular; down the Payette River canyon. As we are just about to crest a steep grade, the Dodge suddenly cuts out again, this time a bit differently; a long pause of death, followed by a series of tiny stutters. Damn! The carburetor is plugged up; already! We had just enough momentum to hit the top of the grade, where there was a little pull-off. As I eased her over on now-level ground, it started running right again. It suddenly hit me: it’s been more than 280 miles…and a quick look up at the visor and down at the odometer resulted in the second-grade calculation of: 380 miles! I’m out of gas! The fuel pickup is on the front of the tank, and a steep rise will make it suck air.
As we half-coast over that rise, I can’t believe my eyes: there in the little valley directly below us a clump of green trees and what has to be a town, Horseshoe Bend, no less. We roll down the hill and right into the waiting arms of a Chevron station. $3.77 gas never looked so good. Is this a reality tv show I’m in? I swear I’m not making this up. Stephanie is still a bit steamed for (almost) letting this happen, along with all the other little anxieties: “Paul, you can afford a newer rig, so why…?” Hey, it keeps a vacation from getting too dull.
If you look at my scribbling on the lower left hand corner, it represents the log for this trip, which started at mileage (1)23,982, and ended at 26,150. And at 25,687, you can see 33.0 (gallons) with the notation of “OUT” next to it. You can also see my calculations that show that the average fuel mileage was 11.1 mpg. Actually, that’s pretty decent for a camper, considering the fact that I was pushing it pretty hard much of the time. But it never varies much; I once squeezed 13 mpg out of it by really babying it, or maybe I just didn’t fill it all the way up.
Yes, expensive(r) gas sucks, but the $640 I spent on fuel were by far the biggest expense of the trip, since we brought most of the food along, and camp fees were minimal. Not bad, for a two week vacation in some of the finest scenery in the country. And I certainly didn’t pay for any repairs!
I admit that the moments of anxiety are sometimes less than totally desirable, especially on a vacation like this. This rig is getting old, but in ten years and 30k miles, it’s only let us down once (last summer, less than sixty miles from home). And that was for an $11 ballast resistor. I keep a spare on hand now, but I’m beginning to question whether I’ll ever use it.
The big deliberation this winter will be whether to take the plunge into something newer, or not. That’s going to be a hard one: I’m an incurable romantic who gets attached to old stuff, and thinks he can keep everything going, even if it’s getting to be a bit too much. Like my old houses that need new roofs and a million other things…will it be a sunny or cloudy day when I make that decision? Or just defer it and keep packing the wire and pliers?
I have come to the conclusion that Paul is one week cooler now than he was one week ago. He is also one year cooler now than he was last year. He gives the rest of something to aim for.
Paul can’t even go on vacation without coming back with a story. 🙂
Geez, look at those arms, you can tell Paul actually works for a living.
Great adventure, reminds me of trip to the Canadian Glacier NP in 1995 with GF (now wife), no firearms and desparately hoping not to meet a bear. Hmm, maybe it’s time to do this trip again with kids & camper trailer.
I was going to say something similar about Paul’s arms. Actually, the first photo of him reminds me of Ginger Baker, the drummer for Cream, Blind Faith and a few bands of his own creation.
You generally have the two types, the lanky skinny guy (good for lots of neat tricks) or the guys like me, built like linebackers. I can’t twirl my drumsticks anymore, but I can make a helluva lot of noise when necessary…
wow… it’s not everyday you run into a Ginger Baker reference in a automobile appreciation blog! I concur with the comparision —only a huge mop of red hair is lacking!
@fastback: I’m guessing you haven’t seen recent pix of Ginger. Like the rest of us, he’s aged a bit.
You beat me to it. My understanding at the time was that meth was a regular part of his “diet”. Did see him with Blind Faith…
Holy Cow! You saw him with Blind Faith? Man, sometimes I wish I had been born 10 years earlier to see some these acts. I bet that would be a good story all on its own…
FWIW, my heroes had been Gene Krupa, Buddy Rich, Ginger Baker, John Bonham and Neal Peart. I’ve only ever seen Rich and Peart in person. Both were farkin fantastic!
Wow! You mentioned many of the places that I spent in my youth camping as a Boy Scout – Camp Wallowa for several years, and then one year we went over to Glacier back in 1979 to hike before & after scout camp on St. Mary Lake. Those White travel buses were still all original back then too and I have pictures of them somewhere. Your pictures brought back the memories as I think we were in just about every place you were (I remember having what seemed like limitless energy back then, and we would pick a mountain and decide that we were going to climb it).
And after graduating from college, I spent a week in the White Cloud mountains near Stanley. Could have easily slipped, fallen, and died coming down the 11,272 ft tall peak that has no name while crossing a snowfield near the top. Last time that I have ever climbed something that high (got it out of my system I guess, and I value being alive more than ever these days!).
You are certainly the adventuresome one, not having a gas gauge and all!
Oh, and I remember one other thing about those twisty roads near Stanley – when they say 20mph for a curve, THEY MEAN IT!! I was used to going 10-15mph higher than posted from the usually conservative signs in WA and OR, but darn they are not fudging the numbers there in Idaho.
Forgot to mention we also spent a fair amount of time at St. Mary’s. That one picture of the Chinook next to a meadow was shot near the entry there. Also camped there one night. The East side is superb; now we’ll have to go back and explore the West side of the park! Ran out of time.
You’ve just put Glacier on my list. That’s a fine story. Thanks!
’62 is when VW got the gas gauge. I learned to drive in my Dad’s ’61, with the clever lever on the floor to flip to “reserve”. Trouble is we never figured out which way was normal and which was reserve. Dad kept the fill-up mileage on a little set of thumbwheels clipped to the visor. My first car, a ’63, had the gauge.
And that’s what I call an adventure.
You’re right. There will always be more old parts, hoses, and little plastic pieces. But at the end of the day, you can’t keep a MacGyver down.
What a trip, Paul. Thanks for sharing it with us!!
Love the “stealing the canister hose” solution, btw. That’s just beyond cool. 😀
Going to the Sun road in Glacier Park is a great trip, especially in a convertible. I had to do some roadside repairs on the Going to the Sun road this Summer – setting the points on my friends 1964 MGB with a matchbook cover since we didn’t have a feeler gauge.
Many Glacier is a great place to stay, the lodge there feels like it is out of “The Shining” – good thing you were staying in the Chinook!
Looking forward to the CC on those busses, even if they are all restomodded these days…
Awesome scenery you really found some nice country sounds like a wonderful trip a few little faults appearing on an old van isnt unusual anf noise is good you know when somethings wrong when you cant hear it, if youre going walkabout a steel tent is the way to go I used to drive panelvans, Kombis and the like doesnt matter where you are youve got somewhere to sleep. Keep that old Dodge buying a newer one isnt going to stop things breaking and that one seems simple to repair and you know your way around it by now.
My Dad’s Type 2 Westy got 20 mpg if you didn’t mind your top speed being 60! We took a lot of trips like this one in it. I think it was a ’69 or 70 since it had a one piece windshield and a 12 volt system. I would curl up over the engine behind the futon’s raised seat and let the drone lull me to sleep.
Awesome story Paul! Wish we had campers like that over here – ours are mostly ex-Japanese Toyota Hiaces, or the aptly-named Nissan Caravan (my parents own one). They’re perfectly good at what they do, but I just can’t get used to the idea of my legs being the crumple zone, but in a big Dodge…mmmm, nice, loads of metal ahead of me! The few Dodge/Chev/Ford-E-series campers we have are either galactic-milage ex-ambulances or stratospherically-priced due to their rarity. So if you ever feel like posting yours to the Southern Hemisphere…
“Stephanie is still a bit steamed for (almost) letting this happen, along with all the other little anxieties.”
“Little anxieties,” like being married to a charmingly dauntless lunatic! 🙂 The pic of you two in your headphones says it all.
She’s a saint! Get her a new van! Better yet, resto-mod the old one! With a Six-Pack on that 360 you can leave those GMC’d Whites in the dust.
Wonderful story! As for the ballast resistor, didn’t you know? That’s how they work. They have the ability to sense if there is a spare within 15 feet. If there is, it will work forever. Only when there is no spare will they actually fail. 🙂
As for replacing the camper – I presume you will not be considering a new one. My grandfather used to say that the devil you know beats the devil you don’t know. Some time spent this fall replacing some of those failed/failing pieces of plastic and rubber will make a for a fresh and happy Dodge. Simplicity is a good thing in an older van.
Of course, maybe Stephanie is getting tired of that teeny-tiny passenger footwell. That is a different issue.
To repair or replace; that is the question. The footwell is pretty absurd, on these older ones. But she’s pretty small, so that’s not the major issue.
I poked my head into the front window of one of the later re-styled Dodges, with the aero-front end, and they managed to reduce the dog-house very drastically. The engine must sit further forward, and the seats are further rearward.
Most of the more recent model Chinooks sit on Ford E chassis. Fuel injection would be nice; the 360 runs a bit rough when cold and likes to stumble. I converted to a manual choke, which helps a bit. And could it ever use another gear, it constantly sounds like it’s wanting to shift into the fourth gear that doesn’t exist.
The heat riser is blocked, a common malady on the LA block. Not worth fixing it, either!
My company has several Dodge vans, the oldest a 1985 and the newest a 2003. The FI (or TBI) versions are better for drivability, but the carbs easier to work on. These are by far the best of the domestic vans. In fact, my partner commonly drives the 1985 in Saskatchewan winters. With 500 lbs of sand in the back and quality snow tires, it will go anywhere.
The great thing about these vans is the are rebuildable. Parts are cheap and available and any one armed grease monkey with a room-temperature IQ can wrench on them while drunk. The same cannot be said about our Hino 5 tons, which are dealer only.
Now that we can’t even get used Dodges anymore, we are soon going to buy a Ford E350. Used of course!
Good call on the heat riser. Actually, it’s MIA; when I cracked a manifold, the only replacement the muffler shop could find was one with a riser valve so totally rusted that they had to just remove it. So eventually the carb gets warm, but on a cold day, that can take a while. Nothing like pulling into a highway and having the engine die to make you think of FI.
But once it’s warmed up, it runs like a trooper. But then the motor isn’t getting any younger either: 125k miles with that 4.10 gearing is like 200k on a sedan with overdrive. It needs a quart of oil about every 1000 miles, and kicks out a nice puff of smoke on start-up.
I am not much of a fan of carbs, either, too much fiddling to get them right and heat risers were always problematic at the best of time. I will always remember the Slant Six’s heat riser rattling like a cheap tin can.
These old engines are known for some oil consumption even when new and 1000 mi a quart is no problem. Probably valve seals but not worth fixing at this rate.
The LA is not good at high RPM and loads. I have seen several grenade on the steep grade on the Coquihalla Highway. Seems they starve for oil on the incline. Just take it easy on the hilly stuff!
The doghouse in the “Aero” Dodges looks smaller but it’s more because the dashboard was extended into the passenger compartment further. They also raised the seating position slightly for some reason (airbags?).
My 83 D250 was way more comfortable than my 95 D2500 work van.
They did indeed move the engine forward several inches in the last year or two of production. These are the ones that look like they are sticking their lower lips out at you. Then Daimler axed the Ram van and gave us the Sprinter. Yaaay!
I had always thought the redesigned, squared-off front end on the ’79 vans was also done to move the engine forward and reduce the doghouse size too from the ’71-’78 version, but I can’t quickly find anything online confirming that, or even that they were made longer that year which I thought I had read.
Great trip report Paul! Sounds like you were right near me in Boise. I live very close to highway 55, the road from Boise to Horseshoe Bend.
This Texan absolutely fell in love with Idaho when I transferred up here 6 year ago. Made me appreciate the rest of the mountain west/northwest, also helped that I married a “mountain girl” a few years ago.
When the boys get a little older, one is only starting to crawl…we’ll be trekking up to Glacier (I’ve been there). Been thinking about a pop-up or Tab to pull behind the Outback.
Challis isn’t really a great town, but every year is the Braun Brothers Reunion. My father in law is good friends with Muzzie Braun, and his sons have bands in Austin called Reckless Kelly and Micky and the Motorcars.
Anyways, in early August they have a 3-day music fest with Idaho, Montana, and Texas musicians. It’s a blast, but 2 years ago they stopped letting in coolers full of drinks and food. So, it’s gotten a bit more expensive. But, you camp on the nearby golf course or like me and a few buddies, take my in-laws’ 89 F350 (460cid V8, 5-MT, DWR) and pop-up bed camper. great setup and a few stops along Hwy 21 for fishing.
My wife has been going to the BBR since she was a toddler, back when the stage was in Stanley and on a flatbed trailer! Man, I sure missed alot growing up in places like Baton Rouge, Houston, San Antone, Tulsa, Salt Lake City, and LA.
Hey TEXN-
I’ll be in Boise next week. What things do I absolutely have to see? What are the best day hikes in the area? I’m not up for anything like Paul’s 16-miler, but I’d ilke to get out a bit and see some scenery. Thanks!
You know I got to thinking, we should have a member directory. Alot of us do roadtrips, and alot of us live in some great places of the US. Perfect for when our classics break down or want to meet up for a drink while rolling through town.
@Tex: Hey, that’s not a bad idea!
I’m game; but would need some ideas on how that would work.
You could use tripit.com.
I have a TripIt account, mainly because we use Concurs at work. Even an iPhone app.
Otherwise, I don’t know how it’d work…given people wanting to keep their info somewhat secure.
Now is the time to pick up used luxury items on the cheap. A friend of mine picked up a garage kept, mint condition, 60k mi.,late 90’s 26′ Class A RV for $9000. He is on a cross country excursion in it as we speak. What stops me from buying stuff like that (RV’s, extra cars, boats, etc.) is having to keep them outside. Sun, heat, extreme cold and rain are the friends of no vehicle. Now if I put that 30×50′ steel building up, all bets are off!
On another note, I am glad you got a well deserved vacation and did not get stranded. I will be renting an RV and going to the keys next weekend, can’t wait!
Sounds like a great trip even with the hiccups, can’t wait to hear more.
I’ve been debating the pros and cons of camper vs. trailer vs. continuing to tent it. So far the camper is in the lead just because of it’s self contained nature and that I tend not to plan any routes or destinations on my trips.
I have a full 2 weeks off in December. I wonder what kind of hell I can run into with a 30 year old Mercedes used to going to the Grocery store and back. But this kind of excursion/adventure is something I need before I burn out.
Chances are I’ll just blow a bunch of vacuum hoses on the way out anyways. Or I need to go Station Wagon hunting between now and Christmas…
Paul I recommend a VW Vanagon camper, preferably a diesel ; ) As far as your running out of gas, I would like to think that I inspired you!
Yes, your story came to mind when that happened!
What a great trip Paul!
I started reading this, this morning and then had to head off to work so I’ve just now finished it off.
Sounded like you two had loads of fun!
Got familiar with those old 360’s as Dad once had a ’75 Plymouth Gran Fury with it in it and it was supposedly an undercover police cruiser. Had full wheel covers and a vinyl roof no less!
That was around 1980 or so and I learned to drive in that car.
I would agree, this is a good time to go on vacation though a bit later when the leaves are turning might be fun, but then again, the weather is also turning at that point too…
Glad you had fun with repetitively little actual mechanical issues this time out!
Great story! Glacier is still my #1 to-do-list item, slightly ahead of going back to Southern Utah. I camped in the Sawtooth Mountains last year and it is splendid. A sort of mini-Tetons.
Funny enough, I frequent a Goodwill just down the road and there’s a book in the Science department about the Jammer trucks. “Jamming To The Sun” is the title. I thumbed through it once but I’ll see if it’s still there tomorrow and buy it if it is.
Hey Paul, I live in Olympia. I can be there in 3 or 4 hours when it’s time to let her stay with me for a while (the van, not the Mountain Girl). I am looking for a rig like that, I just need to stumble on the right deal like you did.
can i comment a year later? my advice about the chinook: you need to delegate. it’s basically a sound vehicle that needs more tlc than you have time to perform. set yourself a budget and a list of things that need doing and pay one of your local tradespeople to do the work.
Waay late to the conversation, but just wanted to say that I enjoyed it – have a ’77 Tioga II RV built on the same Dodge platform.
Fail on the picture attach –
”So just like when I watched my vasectomy being performed” … brave man .
That T-Speedster would make a great RV!
For the record 1961 VW Beetles did not have gas gauges so the earliest possible bug with one is from 1962. One of my closest friends growing up had a ’61 VW from the beginning of 11th grade till a couple of months before graduating from college. Like Paul in the Chinook he kept track of his mileage in a little notebook stored in the glove box. Once his mother borrowed the car for something and filled up the tank for him and forgot to mention it. The next day we were going somewhere in the Beetle and, according to the notebook, it was time to refuel. Surprise, surprise, surprise when he could only get about 10 cents worth of gas into the tank.
I’ve yet to make it to Glacier but it’s still a top priority. Looks amazing. Ok, I was there in 2012 on Amtrak but it was night and I didn’t stay.
There’s an oldie but a goodie.
Is there anything you actually miss about the Chinook? The windows? The extra width?
The grumble of its V8 exhaling through its low-restriction truck muffler and side exhaust pipe. 🙂
Other than that, no. The huge windows we might possibly miss sometime when parked at the ocean or some other scenic spot. Those big single pane windows created gobs of condensation overnight. Water running down them in the morning. The promaster’s window are double pane and made of high-strength plastic. No condensation at all.
The extra width, no, because it was essentially wasted on big back cushions in the dinette which we have no real use for; we just use our pillows.
The new van is a major upgrade in every respect. I’m quite happy to have moved on.
Well I had a ’62 VW Beetle and it did not have a gas gauge. Maybe in ’63?
Here is a Warning for traveling in Grizzly Bear country, if you haven’t already seen it!
🙂
Get a 23 footer GMC and you’ll be happy, all the amenities, classic looks and with the larger engine a true Hot Rod with Plumbing