Camping by Coleman

Camping trips were one of the highlights of my summer growing up.  I loved the campfires, sleeping in a tent (I can still smell the wet canvas), fishing, hiking and those mysterious only-for-camping appliances my Dad used like the Coleman stove and lantern.  The sight of watching him add white gas, pump pressure into the tank and finally light it was like magic.  Of course, I wasn't allowed to handle  them, especially those silk mantles in the lantern that disintegrated on touch.

I found these Coleman owners manuals in the cabinet I blogged about here.

The first up is for the Coleman 425D Camp Stove from 1965.

Sunset, August 1959

With Summer upon us (at least in the Northern hemisphere.  Do they still call it summer in the Southern hemisphere?  I'm too lazy to Google it) I thought you might enjoy this August 1959 issue of Sunset, the Magazine of Western Living.  It's the special "Art of Camp Cookery" issue plus plenty of vintage ads.  Bon Appetit!

Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah...

I stopped at a garage sale off of Susan Road in Oakville, MO this morning. The man hosting the garage sale didn't speak much English and sounded to be Eastern European. The items he was selling appeared to be from the 60's and 70's, so I'm wondering if he might have bought the house (50's ranch) including contents and was flushing it out. He kept pushing his cantaloupes too: "You want cantaloupe? They're organic!" Odd.

I didn't see a whole lot that interested me, but when I saw a stack of postcards, I rummaged through them. Buried within were 3 Kelloggs Cereal postcards featuring Tony the Tiger, filled out by a couple of brothers from camp in Pevely, MO. in 1966. Does anyone know anyone who ever went to summer camp? It was frequently portrayed in movies and tv, but I never knew a single person who went. The postcards span June 26, 27 and 28th, 1966 and were sent by brothers Gary and Bob (don't all me Bobbie) Bradshaw. Anyway, these are definitely a slice of Americana and I love the notes written home on back. This is the back of the card shown above. Kisses, but no hugs!:






The front of this card has "688 Pevely, MO" written in Tony's sign.
I love how he wrote "Mom" in the address and someone scratched out and replaced with Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw.

The front of this card has "Teamster's" written above the "Camp" on the sign and below that, Pevely, MO 63070. "I Love You's. Bring Books?"

Can you imagine a kid asking his parents to bring books these days? It would more likely be "Bring Nintendo DSi and cell phone!". I wonder if his plea for "Come Sunday" was just for a visit or to take him home -- his fear being he would left another week! Oh, and one last thing: "I mess you's."
Oh, you laugh as his poor grasp of plural pronouns, but he comes by it honestly -- his mother wrote some doozeys on the other postcards which I will profile in an upcoming blog.
As seen on the postcard, the family lived at 4165 Potomac in St. Louis. According to Google, this is their home:


The above is just a snap of Google's streetview as embedding them seems to cause the blogpage to go crazy, much to the consternation of one of my followers... You can follow this link to the home.

***Update****

Teamsters Camp 688 still operates as a children's camp. Now why didn't I think to look?!

Country Camping with Barbie and Friends

When I was young, the only vacations my family ever took involved camping. We never stayed in a motel or even a cabin. My sister and I (and occasionally my next-oldest brother) would pile into the '70 Impala and we'd be off dragging the Apache Pop-up camper behind us. Upon arriving at a campground, my dad would sequentially throw us kids out of the car to guard a site while he drove on to see if there wasn't something just a bit better. Utilizing my mom, he could "reserve" up to 4 sites while he decided. Upon deciding, the call would go out and all other outposts would convene on the chosen site whereupon my father would swear the camper into submission.

As crazy and as simple as that sounds, those were days we looked forward to all year round.

So when Christmas of 1972 arrived and along with it my sister's Barbie Country Camper, I was probably as excited as her. Finally, my G.I. Joe (with the Kung Fu grip) had a recreational vehicle to...well, to *recreate* in! Sure, it was no man van, but if it meant he could go camping, Barbie's psychedelic, flower-power wussy wagon would have to do. So, when my sister wasn't around, Joe was off on an adventure, arm resting on the window, eyes fixed on the horizon.

Last week, that all flashed back to me when I found one in very nice condition at a garage sale off of Becker Road in South St. Louis County. My first thought was of course my sister, but I was pretty sure she still had hers (she does, I later found out) and of course secondly eBay. It was $5 so I felt pretty comfortable I'd get my investment back. As it turns out, maybe not. That's about what they're worth. Who'd have thought.

So here I am stuck with Barbie's Country Camper. But there could be worse things. The kids enjoy playing with it and maybe when they're not looking, Joe just might head out on the road again, adventure just beyond the horizon.