We were still actively looking for a motor home, and I kept an eye on various websites hoping we would find that perfect vehicle. I saw an ad for a cheap one located out in the desert. Since we had an interview with a homeowner out that way, we decided to set up an appointment to see the motorhome on the same day.
The owner said we should meet him at a gas station and then follow him to the motor home which was close. It sounded a bit strange, but we agreed.
We arrived at the gas station and waited about ten minutes. When no one showed up, at least no one wanting to sell an RV, we decided it was a bust and started to drive off.
Follow Me Up the Road
As so often happens, at that exact moment, in he came. “Follow me up the road, five minutes, and we’ll be there.” He seemed like a nice guy, and we could understand him despite his thick accent, so off we went.
He drove into the little town but didn’t stop anywhere. Okay, that’s a little funny, “He said five minutes.” Five minutes passed, and he just kept driving right out-of-town into the hills, barren brown hills!
We drove a few miles east, and then we drove some miles north, and then we drove west through and around all those hills. Five minutes, my foot! We’re glad the clock doesn’t move this slowly all the time.
Into No Man’s Land
He kept going farther and farther, which made me more and more nervous. “If he doesn’t stop soon we are turning around. He is going to take us into the desert and murder us.”
We kept driving through the desolate small valleys and hills – there were no houses, no stores, no police, no traffic lights, no people; it was getting scary. He kept driving and driving and driving; seriously, we drove for five minutes five times!
At last, in the distance, we saw a bunch of ragtag desert homes under a stand of palm trees. We hoped that was our destination. It took another five minutes to get there, but he did pull into a driveway. Finally, we reached the end of the journey.
The Saddest RV Ever
Now, we could see a motor home. “Oh, my God, turn around, let’s get out of here.” Instead of turning around and heading back, Jim being the kind soul he is, says, “I’ll ask a few questions, and then we’ll leave.”
Several flat tires, missing windows, and ‘faded paint’ doesn’t even begin to describe the state of the exterior. Parts of the metal body had big gaping holes; chunks of exterior siding were missing, and the dents! Oh, my God, it was utterly horrific.
On the inside – who would ever imagine it could be worse. Stripped down to the bare walls, some homemade cupboards leaning up next to a sink, plywood on the floor, the ceiling a hodge-podge of materials and colors.
There was no stove, no bathroom, no bedroom, it had been gutted and was truly unbelievable. It would insult an entire industry to call this a recreational vehicle.
He informed us that his original intention was to restore it so he could live in it with his family. However, his wife had refused to live in it, which meant he had to sell it; a smart woman. It would have been great to hear that before we drove all the way out here.
He was so friendly and chatty and just kept talking and talking. We tried to be polite, ask a few questions and get back outside as soon as possible.
“Should I Start the Motor?”
It might take a while.” “Oh, okay.” (At this moment, we’ll do anything to get away, maybe it won’t start, and we can bow out). Loud grinding noises came from the engine, but eventually, it did start, spewing an enormous cloud of smoke out the back.
We had a bit more chit-chat over the roar of the engine. He showed us his identification card and kept talking. The poor guy, he didn’t seem to understand. There was no way in the world we would ever buy this monstrosity.
Finally, Jim found an ending point, we thanked him for his time, got to our car, backed out of the driveway, drove away as fast as we could and burst out laughing! If you are ever near Palm Springs, look it up! We’re quite sure it’s still available, and it’s a doozy!
We decided dynamite might be the only solution for this RV – it deserved a quick death. Sitting there, it was just another RV in hospice. We’ve seen many of those in our travels; sometimes three or four waiting together in the backyard for… Well, you know. Oh, my God!