Liscense and Registration

Now the former Colorado native and current California Winnebago isn't exactly street legal for a number of mechanical reasons, most notably the crack in the gray water tank but I won't go into details on why driving with a leaky gray water tank is bad in this post. The tags are about to expire and the Bago needs to be under our name and not Hawk's.

Now we could drive to the Porterville DMV, but if you've been to one recently you would know that DMV lines are a bit like walking into a Walmart; you are going to see some strange people. Those of you familiar with Porterville also know that geographics will also play a significant role in the kind of people you will see. April and I received some good advice; if you're a Triple A member you can take care of registration and new license plates at the local Triple A office.




It's better one stop shopping than a Walmart and a lot safer too. We stop and fill out the proper forms, pay the fees and now it's time for the most important question; personalized plates? Now April and I have been debating naming the Bago. She wants to name it like some sort of adoptive child, more so because while she was on pain meds after the birth of our son I was able to corner the market on naming our son. This is April's opportunity to select a name she might have chosen for our son if not for strong pain meds. I want to name it after the previous owner's middle name (one of three middle names listed on the previous registration), HAWK. There is also a Hawk figure glued to the 'nose' of the Bago, completing the justification. After some deliberation we opt to not be that goofy and go plain on the plates.


The Triple A manager is having some trouble; apparently matching the VIN number is hard to do when there are multiple numbers associated with the vehicle. First it's a Dodge chassis, specifically a Dodge RM300 with a Dodge 318 engine. Now the good people of Winnebago County, Iowa saw fit to give the chassis the famous 'Brow' body which has it's own numbers as well. Between the chassis, engine and body serial numbers, she writes all three down and spits it into the database. The manager completes the background check and we are given plates on the spot, holy moly! They keep plates there at the office ready to go like warm cheeseburgers under the heat lamps. We hit the road and are ready for the next adventure.

What could possibly go wrong?

Flooring, Sandblasted Rims and R.O.U.S.

The Transformation begins!

My parents have a nice sized property in Springville CA; an area at the base of the Sequoia National Forest. Like most children who make irrational purchases and have no place to store them, my parents were happy to share their homestead with the Bago. My dad even went so far as to grade out a parking spot near the base of the hill near a gate with easy access to their driveway.

We start opening up compartments, and I found out where the smell has been coming from. A huge ball of insulate and rat turds. Rats have been living next the the water tank and water heater. This is all located under the futon which explains why stray dogs were so interested in the rancid mattress pad. The damage to the area and the thought that I might take a shower with water that is stored in proximity to this horrible mess is frightening to say the least. I imagine that the rats, and I say rats because the volume of poop is impressive, had a lot of time on their hands.

The rats probably looked something like this and smoked unfiltered Lucky cigarettes. Even though we were able to vacuum most of the rat mess from every crack of the Bago, the smell is still there. We turn to bleach, simple green and a whole lotta elbow grease. I surmise that the term originated from someone on their knees scrubbing rat stains until their elbows were themselves stained with rat droppings.

Cleaning Rims and Adding flooring

Once clean and smelling nice, we are able to start on the linoleum flooring. We chose a walnut wood grain which compliments the rest of the wood paneling inside. All we need is denim curtains and we've got a Canadian Hyatt. If you click on the photo slide show you get an idea of the process to lay and trim the flooring. It was a painful realization that we were not able to salvage the original orange flooring. Let that be a lesson to you you you carpet pushers! Earlier in the week we had the old tires taken off the rims and sandblasted. My dad primed them with gray paint and we had the tires put back on and balanced. Considering the blow out on the trip up to central California, we'll need to look into new tires soon.

I Heart Winnebago

Ain't she a beaut?!

This is the first chance we had to go through the interior of the Bago after our daring road trip home. The futon bed pad, curtains and mounds of trash are so gross they are tossed. The carpet is torn and muddy so that goes too. Underneath the carpet we discover the original orange flooring. It looks like faux marble. What quarry on this planet produces orange marble I wonder? The previous owner's dog must have repeatedly pee'd on the bed because the neighborhood dogs are rolling on the mattress. We spent hours washing the interior and exterior but there's still a funky smell coming from somewhere...

The Winnebago Man

 

We spotted a documentary in Netflix called the Winnebago Man. The story of an industrial commercial made by the good people of Winnebago industries. These are the outtakes from their production. Cover your ears if you do not want to hear profanity and the defamation of flies.

Our First Road Trip

April and I arrange to drive to Topanga Canyon to check out a $1,500 73 Winnebago Brave. I talked with a really nice guy named Hawk that grew up in Topanga, went to college in Boston and frequented Colorado. He was selling his 73 Brave and wanted to make sure we cut the mustard before he handed his baby over to just anyone. We passed the test and now it was our turn; drive to Topanga and get a look at what might be the sweetest investment we've ever made. We meet Teddy's dad who is very nice and has an old hot rod hidden under a tarp in his drive way; already a good sign. We agree upon a price and he shows us the trick to gettin the lovely lady going, which includes the mystery pedal, starting fluid, and the 10 minute warm-up. I drive her out of the winding roads we fill up for gas and we're on our way. Not ten feet out of the gas station a couple of guys in a van next to me yell out their window and ask if we want to sell our sweet ride. "Not today sir, we just bought her!" We're beaming with pride. Steering the 5 ton rv is no easy task, the power steering needs power, and stiff breezes push me dangerously close to passing Honda Civics. The fear in their eyes tells me I'm running out of lane; people generally give you a wider birth in relation to either your driving skills or the size of your vehicle. In our case it's both.

About an hour into drive along the 5 Freeway I'm awoken from my daze by a gunshot that forces me to swerve and pump adrenaline into my steering muscles. A blow out at 60 miles per hour along the 5 is enough to make you rethink going to church more often. We pull off the road and luckily we park in a pull-out along a sod farm in Castaic. As traffic flies by and we wait for Triple A to arrive I realize I'm in a room bigger than my first apartment and life isn't that bad. A couple hours later, and several prayers directed at the tread life of a tire that came off of the assembly line in 1995, we're off. I've hit every button and switch on the dash until I locate the high beams and now I know that the interior lights work, the wipers work, and there are about 9 switches that don't have any discernible effect whatsoever. We make it to Porterville and park at April's mom's house to show off the goods. We're already day dreaming about the wonderful ways in which we can fix her up and customize the 70's interior decorum. Next step is a bath and find out where the urine smell is coming from.