#apache camper

[rollerman1]

[joecowtoy]

Home is where you park it! >>> Swipe for 3D >>> I took the shot out near Silly Mountain, Apache Junction, AZ. AJ is full of RV resorts and campers parked in the desert. #toyphotography #joecowtoy #pixarcars #cactus #sonorandesert #aj #apachejunction #homeiswhereyouparkit #vanlife #rvworld #stereoscopic #stereotoys https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn6y4IULPxc/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[kimrimsza]

The Great Outdoors: Camping and Outdoor Recreation Near Phoenix

When immersing oneself in the great outdoors, Phoenix, Arizona, is an ideal gateway to various camping and outdoor recreation experiences. From tranquil desert landscapes to lush mountain retreats, here's a guide to outdoor havens that promise adventure and relaxation.

1. Tonto National Forest: A Wilderness Escape

Tonto National Forest, located just northeast of Phoenix, is a sprawling expanse that offers a diverse range of camping experiences. Whether you prefer lakeside camping at Roosevelt Lake or the solitude of the Apache Trail dispersed camping areas, Tonto National Forest provides a serene backdrop for reconnecting with nature.

2. McDowell Mountain Regional Park: Desert Oasis

McDowell Mountain Regional Park is an excellent choice for those seeking a desert escape with panoramic views. Campsites are nestled against the backdrop of the McDowell Mountains, offering hiking and mountain biking trails for daytime adventures. As night falls, the clear desert skies provide a breathtaking canvas for stargazing.

3. Lost Dutchman State Park: Legends and Campfires

Named after the fabled Lost Dutchman's Gold Mine, this state park offers a blend of history and outdoor recreation. Campers can set up beneath the iconic Superstition Mountains and explore trails that wind through the Sonoran Desert. As evening descends, gather around a campfire and immerse yourself in the rich tales of the Lost Dutchman legend.

4. White Tank Mountain Regional Park: Desert Beauty and Petroglyphs

White Tank Mountain Regional Park, known for its ancient petroglyphs and rugged beauty, is a haven for outdoor enthusiasts. Campers can choose from campsites surrounded by saguaro cacti and picturesque desert landscapes. The park's extensive trail system invites exploration, and the Waterfall Canyon Trail is a must-visit for a refreshing outdoor adventure.

5. Lake Pleasant Regional Park: Lakeside Serenity

Lake Pleasant Regional Park offers a camping experience with a waterfront view. With numerous campgrounds dotting the shoreline, campers can enjoy water activities during the day, from boating to fishing. The desert sunsets reflected on the lake create a magical atmosphere, perfect for unwinding around the campfire.

6. Usery Mountain Regional Park: Hiking and Desert Flora

Usery Mountain Regional Park is a hidden gem offering a diverse landscape of desert flora and mountainous terrain. Campers can choose sites surrounded by the unique beauty of the Usery Mountains. The park's extensive trail system caters to hikers of all levels, providing an opportunity to witness the desert's vibrant plant life up close.

7. Payson: A Mountain Escape

Venture northeast of Phoenix to the town of Payson for a mountain retreat. Surrounded by the Tonto National Forest, Payson offers campgrounds amidst towering pine trees. Escape the desert heat and enjoy a cooler climate, with ample opportunities for hiking, fishing, and simply basking in the tranquility of the forest.

In conclusion, Phoenix and its surrounding areas provide a tapestry of outdoor experiences, from the vastness of the desert to the calm serenity of mountain retreats. Whether you're a seasoned camper or a novice outdoor enthusiast, these destinations offer a chance to disconnect from the hustle and bustle, embrace nature, and create lasting memories under the Arizona sky.

[awanderingcanadian]

The Changing Face of Camping

I started writing this post back in mid June when we were just back from a short 2 night camping trip and again I was struck by how much camping has changed, in both our personal style of camping, and the ethnic and gender make up of today’s campers. I grew up camping, mainly in rented small trailers then in our own Apache hard shelled tent trailer style. As an adult I spent years, (with friends, then with my husband), tenting, moving from a cheap foamie, to coveted thermarests, and finally graduating to an inflatable queen size mattress that had to be largely inflated inside of our four season North Face tent as once inflated, it wouldn’t fit inside the door. We felt like we were camping in luxury.

Then in the autumn of 2013 the unthinkable happened: we bought a new-to-us travel trailer, and the camping world changed. Suddenly we had a fridge, a freezer, a Queen size bed, a bathroom, and a forced air heater. We poo-pooed weather as we were warm and dry! In the first few years we took some epic trips: Yellowstone/Grand Teton, down to Yosemite, over to the Calgary Stampede returning via Prince George, as well as weekend and multi-day trips locally around Vancouver Island. The trailer has saved our bacon as well, as we lived a month in it before moving to Scotland in 2017, then we lived in it for 3 months when we had to return to Canada unexpectedly. We stayed in it for a couple of months again before heading our travelling in 2019, and then COVID hit! Our house was on year 3 of a 3 year unbreakable lease to the Crown, and the good old trailer came to the rescue…for 5.5 months we resided in it. Although we’re actively now looking for a newer trailer, this grand old lady will forever have a special place in our hearts.

However, it was during the times we lived in our trailer, that we gained a new perspective. We had no idea that so many people, (employed people), were living full time in travel trailers, or motor homes. Not just retired folks who decided to sell everything and embrace the open road, but people trying to save money for a few years while they saved for a down payment. This was back in 2019, and yet today we saw some of those same people still in their RV. With property values soaring during COVID combined with interest rate hikes, those same people are even further away from their goal. It was depressing to see. Here are a few photos of our trailer as our home back in 2020…

However, we’re back on the road now, and again we’re seeing new to camping campers. During the worst of the pandemic, when travel was verboten, people who had never camped before gave it a go. We saw mainly people from Asian countries, and China, out camping for the first time. It was evident as everything was brand new, and there was a lot of discussion, (not in English), about which pole went where in an out of the box tent, as well as how to attach a propane bottle to a brand new stove. It was inspiring to see people embracing something obviously so foreign, (but if you’ve already embraced a new country so foreign to your own, then what’s a little camping challenge, right?) This current trip we’re also seeing a lot of women camping: single women, women with friends/sisters/partners. As a women who camped for many years with my girlfriends, it’s reignited memories of those fabulous trips, as well as giving me a sense of happiness watching women assert their independence at a time when so much of it is under attack in various places in the world.

Anyway, I’m happy to be back camping, (even though yesterday I towed for 10 hours due to a big accident on the I-5), and I’m happy to see new faces embracing camping, (even though it means I’m having a more difficult time getting camping spots). I think getting outdoors is good for all of us.

I would sign off “until next time”, but I know there are a few older drafts backed up here, and while I have internet, and have a day of laundry, I’ll be trying to catch up…

[charlesbeckart]

Charles Beck - End of the Chevy Pickup

This is a painting done in the 1970s. The truck, a 1961 Chevy Apache, brought the family and I to California from Colorado. I had built the camper shell before leaving and somehow it stayed intact for years. Rust got the cab and the bed and about everything else metal. I set up an easel in front of it and painted a memorial before it was towed away. Note the rough canvas. That was about all I could afford then.

[krystynasierbien]

Up and Down in Ireland

I’ve lived in the same city in Northern Ireland for over three months now, and the only friend I’ve made thusfar is a convicted and unrepentant paedophile who apparently committed his crimes while he and a then 13 year old girl watched rolling news about the 2005 London bombings.

I worked briefly in Kenmare prior to that, staying with a twice married Apache pizza delivery driver and seasoned fisherman called Robert a few weeks later, circumventing one of the many “work for free, stay for free” websites in a village called Kilgarvan, which is about thirty minute’s ride from Killarney. Angling for a tour of the Ring of Kerry and beyond, Robert was thankfully only too happy to oblige, having not visited many of the destinations he had in mind for years. He knew the winding roads and all the best beaches — hidden jewels reminiscent of the Maldives when the weather was just so — like the back of his hand, and his driving skills were impressive. And so we meandered, sometimes sped, towards myriad sea-facing dead ends, chatting with numerous V-Loggers filming and frolicking beside their camper-vans along trails Google Maps leaves largely undocumented as we went.

There’s something beautiful about all this, I thought to myself at the time. The old and the new, the clean-living youthful adverturism outriding the digitised world from which they had sprung, and which invariably helps fund their expeditions, in tandem with a County Kerry lifer revisiting old haunts and friends with a wayward 30-something drunk like myself. Campervans and coming of age road trips aren’t new of course however the Van-life trend — aside from adventure and travel — is about elaborate interiors, twinkly V-log music accompaniment, and tactile video editing as opposed to the rudimentary clothes, drugs, and occasional music event pastiche I’d been used to. Robert let me take a spin in his rickety old manual along the Banna Strand strip one afternoon, a well established beach spot for excitable learner drivers, many of whom seemed to be attempting to re-enact scenes from the Fast and Furious films. I appreciated for the very first time just how anxiety-inducing driving can be.

I cooked food, cleaned his house and cars, took calls from middle-class French mothers trying to book a holiday slot with Robert’s fishing trip business. “We must catch a salmon” they almost universally insisted, perhaps trying to offset the cost of the fishing trip in their heads as Robert perhaps dutifully paid the high-summer Irish rod license fee in anticipation of the trip at the local Post Office. I even spruced up an old hot dog stand sat rusting in his front garden one morning, with a vague plan to start trading in Bantry later that week (no herbs, no spices, no pickle, just fried onion with a choice of either mustard OR ketchup, Robert repeatedly insisted.)

No matter what I did or suggested though, I just couldn’t measure up to the Japanese student who’d boarded with him the previous winter. Forty quality wreaths she had constructed in one day alone to sell at Robert’s numerous Christmas Market haunts that season he exclaimed wistfully one evening as we watched an RTE documentary about Greenland’s slower-than-most transition to social and cultural modernity, mumbling something about ‘Japanese work ethic’ before woefully burying his head in his hands. I thought back to our trip to the Yusuf Spice Halal Shop in Killarney one morning, where Robert seemingly pays cash on a monthly basis to be wired to a young woman living in the Philippines to fund her university studies and who he had first communicated with via Facebook. There was definitely something on his mind, but I think he was missing his son too — a hippy type now living off grid elsewhere, who seemed familiar somehow, and whose photograph stood atop the dresser in the room I slept.

Torc Waterfall, White and Banna Strand, Castle Cove, The Olde Forge trail through to County Cork, Killarney National Park, Waterville. One glorious day, we met two old friends of Robert’s from the hills, at the Lady Madonna statue for Sailors Lost, who he hadn’t seen in a decade. One brought two calves with him to entertain coach-trip passengers stretching their legs and buying ice cream, while the other played the accordion out the back of his van, singing hilarious English gibberish whilst thumping his foot upon a sheet of tin he had placed on the ground.

The hotdog vendor business may never have materialised, however Robert did one balmy late summer’s day take me to visit a friend of his in Bantry: A beady eyed, bespeckled, crutch clutching, pliable faced 73-year-old with a pet cat and a penchant for the Dropkick Murphys named Patrick Guilfoyle. Patrick lived comfortably in a detached shack, rammed elegantly somehow into a tiny space along a hilled street lined with otherwise uniform post-war terraced housing. He had made all of the thoughtful, utilitarian touches that seem to characterise the reduced space, fold-out Dali-an playpens many major city-based millennials and Gen Z-ers have become accustomed to (a velcrowed strip of wall for the TV remote and his various medications, the table that doubled up as a seat for guests, the elaborate kitchenette area.) I didn’t ask why his shack had been built where it so proudly but strangely stood, like some compressed Alpine wooden thumb. I just assumed the previous property had either collapsed, burnt down, or had been ceremoniously demolished for one potentially horrifying reason or another.

I’d been told all about Patrick before I met him, his concern for the safety of women, following a phone-call between the two Irishmen — Robert initiated the conversation by telling me about the Troubles as he had experienced things in Belfast as a young man, living amongst and at times having to work with the kind of gangsters who’d slip cyanide into a comrade’s orange squash before toddling carefree down the road to shoot up a family home. Who’d admonish a person’s commitment to and pride in not only themselves but also their family, friends and country for refusing to subscribe to a culture in which organ harvesting could be construed as a justified norm and would naturally be used as a threat against anyone attempting to thwart them — bringing with us that damned packet of gravy Robert had for some strange reason insisted we fetch for him on the journey. Patrick, in spite of his casual, out-of-the-blue, possibly faux-homophobia, in spite of his genuine affection for his cat and his grandchildren,was a former IRA bomb maker. Dubbed the ‘Bungling Bomber’ by the press, Patrick once accidently blew up a flat in 1970’s Manchester where he and his co-conspirators were constructing various explosive devices at the time whilst smoking a cigarette, and before the police finally caught up with them so too the entrance to a marked Birmingham court house. The remnants of Patrick’s former high-risk pursuits I could see manifested in the nimble modifications he was in the process of making to his I-Pad sleeve with a segmentable switchblade knife when Robert and I first arrived.

Oddly — and in my eyes terrifyingly, tellingly — enough, as we first drove through Bantry I saw a man I’d recently been researching leaning against a wall, working diligently on carving his wooden bowls next to an organic food shop. It was Ian Bailey — qualified lawyer, poet, pub musician, journalist, market trader and erstwhile prime and convicted suspect in the horrific murder of French film-maker Sophie Toscan du Plantier in Dreenane back in 1996. I’d recently been in contact with a witness in the case that turned out to be a third cousin of the same name, who had the following to say:

I know Ian personally, and I see him essentially as a narcissist who walked into the crosshairs of the Gardai who were aware of how much they had messed up the investigation and were glad to be presented with a ‘likely suspect’. (Another theory doing the rounds some time back was that it was a Garda from Bantry who had killed Sophie, and his colleagues were prepared to go to any lengths to cover this up. It is fairly far-fetched, but then look at the deeply shocking corruption of members of the force in another part of the country as highlighted in the Morris Tribunal of 2002.) Ian’s narcissism, of course, has kept him in the limelight, which has not served him well. Another thing that makes him ‘tick’, so to speak, is a certain mindset that prevails among a few English people living here (and I must emphasise ‘few’) — that they are living with the ‘mere’ Irish and feel they can say and do things that they would not get away with at home. This is probably more unconscious than anything else, but his cavalier mangling of the Irish language, thinking no one will notice, says a lot, as does his belief about the worth of his poems (he may not have killed Sophie Toscan du Plantier, but he is certainly guilty of murdering poetry).

My initial thoughts were that Ian Bailey must have been involved — how couldn’t he be, having seen and reported on details of the crime scene 48 hours prior yet being so jovial, knee deep in Schull Pier water as if baptizing himself, reciting poetry and belly laughing at the annual Christmas Day swimming event? Perhaps he was reflexively basking in the knowledge he’d been the first and perhaps only journalist that day to report on what he knew would inevitably become such a huge story. And yet, turning up in that Ford Fiesta with Jules (the progeny of a very wealthy Welsh family, who may or may not own Belfast International Airport), apparently the same model as Sophie’s hire-car that fateful visit, if he (and/or she) had murdered Sophie a few hours earlier, would certainly make the investigator’s jobs more difficult, if not at the immediate scene then definitely along the various lanes and walking routes leading towards it, weather and terrain permitting. Then again standard issue Garda vehicles in 1996 were all Ford Fiestas too, and annual Christmas Day swimming events are generally places of joy.

Bailey allegedly admitted to his crimes to several people over the years. He also has a history of severe domestic violence as confirmed by police reports and a thrice hospitalised Jules Thomas, for which it seems no further police action was ever taken. For these reasons, and many more, including an attempt to set an EAW precedent through an Napoleonic era law and request for extradition to France which was ultimately denied by the Irish High Court on grounds of a lack of sufficient and admissible evidence, he was in 2019 found guilty in absentia and sentenced to 25 years in prison at the Cour d’Assises, Paris. Should Ian Bailey ever attempt to visit France or any other country willing to comply with the extradition order he would be detained and likely transferred to a French prison.

The coroner’s report is truly harrowing, more so than most relating to a murder. Sophie had been bludgeoned repeatedly, mercilessly, with the kind of ferocity usually only attributable to a deeply personal grievance or intended as a stark warning and deterrent to anyone with similar motivations or knowledge as she may have had. Sophie wasn’t strangled to death, true, but her head and face were bashed in to the point of unrecognisability, even to her parents when faced with the grim task of identifying her body, with an ‘unknown utensil’ and a concrete breeze-block instrumentalised at the scene in the laneway outside her holiday home. Could this, or rather how could this not belie an intense hatred, an insatiable jealousy of Sophie; intelligent, defiant, talented, attractive, observant, inquisitive, well-known — feminist? Journalist Veronica Guerin had been murdered six months prior to Sophie in Dublin by drug-gang lackies, Robert tersely reminded me, and from what I can gather she’d have likely found Guerin’s cause, and bravery in execution, inspirational, to the point of attempting to enact action of her own in a similar vein maybe, suspicions dependent, in an area well known for international trafficking routes from Europe and the Americas, resultant of Sophie’s frequent walks along the coastline, her recent or indeed future work, and the people she may have met along the way.

Because there really were several abnormalities during Sophie’s final trip to West Cork. Things were more last minute than usual; as noted by  housekeeper, Josie. She was vague, not just about her itinerary that stay but also her departure date, and for the first time she had travelled to Ireland alone. Various people she knew had been made aware Sophie was convinced the house was being utilised for one reason or another while it stood empty. But for what reason who knows? Perhaps she wanted to determine once and for all what had been going on by process of elimination, catching whoever it was red-handed or confronting those she may have readily suspected on the back foot. She may have been expecting the arrival of someone, or had simply fallen prey through her inquisitive nature to a gaggle of bullshit artists, one of whom turned ruthlessly violent for reasons we may never know but which the author of Murder at Roaringwater concludes boils down to a drunk Ian Bailey, and Sophie’s refusal to hand over a bottle of vintage French red wine, lobbed unopened into nearby shrubbery and found only several months after her murder.

We’ll only never know.

[apachepopups]

Apache Commitment

I just saw your web site as I was looking for parts for my MESA. I enjoyed your story because I have had a similar experience. The first pop-up I traveled in was a canvas loaner from a neighbor when I was a kid. The next year my Dad bought an Apache Ramada which we used for about 6 years before they moved on to a Motor home. I really liked that camper and we traveled throughout Florida where we lived, the northeast and even the southwest over the years we owned it. I remember one of the first modifications he made was to install an air conditioner in the front panel on the tongue followed quickly by a rack connected to the slide outs which allowed us to carry canoes and even a 14 ft. fiberglass skiff.

Apache solid state campers are the best campers bar none. They were ahead of the rest and nothing has come since to challenge their status. They were quality built and one of the best engineered designs around. What I do not understand is why other companies haven't figured out the advantages the solid state campers have.

I bought my Mesa from my brother about 10 years ago. We used it for a few years and then following Hurricane Andrew we lent it to a former neighbor to use while their house was being repaired. The camper was set up and used for 14 months before it was returned to us. Needless to say, it bore the wear & tear of everyday use and constant exposure. Last year I began a massive rebuild because there is still nothing on the market that can touch it. The roof had a crack, the vent leaked water, the cushions were shot, the sink leaked, the inside wood panels had rotted from small water leaks, the windows were brittle and cracked.  The end window panels were sagging and leaked as well.

About 11 months later, the camper almost looks like new. Unfortunately I was not able to keep the original theme in the drapes, etc. but it still looks great and renewed. All of the wood paneling (including the ceiling) was replaced with a lighter whitewashed finish which made the whole inside brighter. That included the ceiling, the inside ends, and all of the cabinet doors and faces (including the seating area). The ceiling crack was repaired by removing the top and fiberglassing the inside. When the top was replaced, it was reinsulated to keep the inside cool. A new ceiling fan unit replaced the old one and overhead lights were placed above the sink, above the table, and just above the entrance. The unit did have an air conditioner installed I decided that when I replaced that front end to reinforce the inside of the front shell with a fiberglass reinforced frame. When the A/C was replaced I used some boat molding around the edge of the fiberglass and then silicone caulk it to the A/C. I also had to replace the sink faucet and since the internal water tank was cracked, I cut it down so that it was just a tray to hold the hose and all electrical cords.  All new external travel lights were installed.  The bearings were removed, inspected, and repacked as well as replacing the bearing seals. The floor had quite a few nicks & cracks so we decided to put a new one on top of the old. While the frames & cabinets were out I cleaned the old floor with Acetone and used the best Armstrong's floor tiles I could find. They really made a difference.

Now comes the last part. To really restore this, there are quite a few of the seals and gaskets which I need to replace. Mainly, they are:     1. The seals on the side panels at the end slide outs.     2. The seal on the ends beneath the slide outs.     3. The pieces above the end windows.     4. The pieces connected to the roof which seal the fold out ends at the roof.     5.  The "Apache" lettering for both sides (otherwise I'll create a some kind of Apace sign to go there)

I'm not sure if there are other missing pieces since I don't have any guide to tell me otherwise.  Following our first shakedown campout this weekend I plan to add a 12v socket for our Electric Coleman Cooler, and any other 12v accessory. My kids thoroughly enjoyed the weekend and their looking forward to more. I was watching my son do some of the chores that I had when I was a kid (like putting in the poles under the slide-outs).

I was told that some others have added 2 - 12v batteries to the trailer tongue for remote locations but I'm not sure that the extra weight there is a good idea .  I'll follow some of the links you provided but any direct assistance would be appreciated.

John Hampp

- Original posts and stories from the Apachepopups website that have been reposted here to preserve them for future Apache camper enthusiasts

[thegikitiki]

Pop-Up Campers, 1966

[silodrome]

For Sale: A Super Retro 1988 Mercedes-Benz T1 Auto Trail Camper

For Sale: A Super Retro 1988 Mercedes-Benz T1 Auto Trail Camper #mercedes #camper #vanlife #van #retro #1980s #80s #camping

This is a rare, original 1988 Mercedes-Benz T1 Auto Trail Apache Camper, and by the standards of the heavily Instagrammed “Vanlife” world, it’s the four-wheeled equivalent of an antique mansion. As a full-sized van, the Mercedes-Benz T1 made an ideal platform for camper development. The size constraints of the VW Type 2 or early Ford Transits gave way to ample room and more space for luxuries…

[prinsez05]

don't miss your chance to own an iconic 1979 Apache Mesa pop up trailer ~ message for pics and deets #detailsuponrequest #apachemesa #apachepopup #popuptrailer #camper #popup #camping #glamping #forsale #available (at Delaware County, Pennsylvania) https://www.instagram.com/p/CGEJB0bnxzw/?igshid=1hgxghuzvjzck

[vintagecamping]

Magazine ad for the 1971 Apache travel trailer by the Vesely Manufacturing Company.

First introduced in 1970, the Apache surprised the world with it’s solid state pop up trailer. It was a sharp looking camper that sported solid side walls that raised into place as the insulated roof was cranked up. The windows were aluminum-framed and tilted outward when opened. The bed ends featured a solid roof over them, but were still wrapped in canvas sides with zippered windows.

[dougrobyngoold]

Hanging Out in Bullhead City, AZ

Once again, the winds drove us inside for most of our stay at Silver View.  We did make a couple of new friends from Idaho - had a happy hour with Terry and Marcia from Idaho.  Hopefully, we will get a chance to see them this winter as they winter in Apache Junction, AZ and might make a trip to Tucson.  Always fun to meet new people!

We get a kick out of the clever signs we see in our travels - like the one at the beginning of this post.  We also loved this one (along the road between Bullhead City and Needles):

We did manage to watch a couple of Bronco football games while we were in town, thanks to the local Buffalo Wild Wings.  We do not have a TV in our pop-up camper and we really miss watching our favorite sports, so we take advantage of sports bars whenever we can!  Front row seats for the Titans vs. Broncos game:

....and they even managed to WIN!

We also met another neighbor in our park:

Roadrunner, trying to warm up one morning!

Tomorrow we move to another park, just a few miles further south.  The weather remains warm and enjoyable in this region, but the winds do get a bit wild at times.  Hopefully, they will calm down as we move further south in the valley.

[mullikin]

I’ve decided to sell my 78 Apache Ramada hard sided pop up camper. A lot of new and refreshed parts but still needs interior cushions and a few cracks sealed to have an awesome restomod camper. I’ll sell or trade for a four wheeler if you know anyone interested. DM me for details. #apachecamper #popupcamper #yeahthatgreenville #camper https://ift.tt/324AXk0

[dweewarda]

$21.5 Only! ~ Vintage Apache Trailer / Camper Green Enamel Tie Clip, Cool Tie Clips, Fancy Tie Clip, C001 BUY HERE! #CoolTieClips, #FancyTieClip, #C001,

[apachepopups]

The Ramada that got away...

I purchased a new 1979 Apache Ramada after seeing one at an RV site earlier that year. I swear it was the most beautiful pop-up I had ever laid my eyes on. It had a light tan box trimmed in maroon stripping with the Apache logo. I fell in love with this beautiful piece of steel, ABS, and aluminum.... man it was big too. I got lots of looks on the road and at many campsites. When I picked it up at the Houston dealership I only owned a 1977 Chevy "Luv" pickup! Hey...the trailer was larger than the truck! My wife and I decided on a vacation to Mass. to visit friends there....would you believe we pulled that Ramada with that 1800cc. tiny 4 cylinder engine??!!..and back. We really got stares in New York city on the way back (look at those dumb Texans)!!!! Ha. We had a ball. The Apache I owned was a real treasure. I was so proud of it and even kept it in the garage when storing it (for years). Now the sad part of this story... my wife talked me into selling that beautiful creature to our mailman and we bought a 21' Nomad trailer. Bad mistake! As of this writing I own a Coleman (yuk-i-poo), but looking for a 79' or newer Ramada to get my hands on. Any of you Apache owners feel free to give me a shout...love to hear from you, Clayton in Houston...... see ya

- Original posts and stories from the Apachepopups website that have been reposted here to preserve them for future Apache camper enthusiasts

[cashcrush]

Free range horses visited my campsite at @midtownmountaincampground this week. What a fantastic place to camp with my little #vintageshasta for the first time since the renovation. Met great people, shared some fun stories #vintagetrailer experiences and restoration tips with others. If you happen to find yourself looking to park your camper or RV in #ruidosonewmexico this is the best #campground actually ranked #5 in the State. I also saw some elk, deer and on my drive up to Apache I saw 3 black bears. Mother and two cubs. 😎👍#camping #campers #funtime #midtownmountiancampground https://www.instagram.com/p/CO23aHzh5ML/?igshid=g5pjsb1f9hqt