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Thanks to James Russell Ament, I came across an old magazine article that resonated with me. My parents still own and operate Russell Canoe Livery and Campground. As a child, my entire summer revolved around the campground and the Rifle River. It was an amazing way to grow up. In fact, it is safe to say I took it for granted.
“LIVING IN A TRAILER” by James Jones – July 1952 | HOLIDAY
What surprised me the most is coming across an eerily accurate description of my Dad in this article. Below is the section I found amusing. If you know my Dad, you know why.
“In Colorado Springs at the foot of Pikes Peak, where I moved next, I found a totally different type of park, the ‘resort’ park. Small, with barely space enough for ten trailers (in addition to the half dozen cabins), harder to get in and out with your trailer because of a sharply bent road and a rustic bridge to cross, it had nothing but trees, and catered to people with small vacation trailers and retired ‘summer visitors’ (we try not to call them ‘tourists’ any more) who stay the whole season, and then move south to Phoenix or Tucson to become ‘winter visitors.’ Located at the mouth of Red Rock Canyon, which loomed above it, it more than made up for its lack of trailer-toilet facilities by the grove of aspens it was set in and the rocky mountain stream (the reason for the rustic bridge) which ran down through it, drowning the car noises —and practically all other noises, including neighbors—from the highway.
The owner of this park, a gentleman named Thomas T. Newby, was a long lean dehydrated hunter with a freezer full of game. He impatiently attended his park during the ‘summer season,’ so that he might be financially free to hunt deer, antelope, elk and moose during the rest of the year. I spent more than one long afternoon loafing in Tom’s office with Tom and his son-in-law, listening avidly to their tales; and if I made them unhappy by reminding them of their exasperation with civilization, they more than got even by giving me a love of that peculiarly Western-type hunting which I was forced to carry around for three years before I got enough money to do some of it.”
“LIVING IN A TRAILER” by James Jones – July 1952 | HOLIDAY, emphasis mine.
I wish magazines of this quality were still produced. I might just have to start collecting back issues of HOLIDAY. While I can’t see myself ever traveling the country via motor home, I do love to travel. I can’t imagine that will ever change. I can identify with the wanderlust leading people to just hit the road.
You can find more information on the magazine below:
I found this piece quite by accident…glad it resonated with you, Lindsey.
Thank you Jim! I can’t quite explain the feeling that overcame me when I read that description of the campground owner. I always thought my Dad as a relatively new construct. In other words, I didn’t realize people made their primary living from campgrounds back in the 1950s. For my Dad it is all about being able to do what he wants in life. It was fascinating to read that others were doing that out west in the 1950s. I doubt my grandfather, who started the business in 1959, could imagine his son’s life right now (he passed away long before I was born). It was a side business for my grandfather and my Dad later ran with it.
Thanks again.
Lindsey