Who the heck is Pumpkin VanDodge?
by Pumpkin VanDodge
That’s me right there, posing for an autumnal candid from my recent stay at Jolly Creek Recreation Site between Rock Creek and Osoyoos, that’s catalogue material, if you ask me. A real classic.
A classic like me. At 42 years young, I was born in the same year Smallpox was eradicated, and having just lived and travelled through this COVID-19 pandemic, I’ve never been happier to be made of metal; there’s still not a spot of rust on me. I’m a mechanical dame from a simpler time, and I love nothing more than the road opening up before me. At a leisurely pace, of course. A nice, steady 90 kilometres per hour suits me just fine.
I’m an Okanagan Valley girl born and bred. We’re a bit different from the valley girls you’re accustomed to south of the border. Up here in British Columbia, a girl like me enjoys strutting her stuff and turning heads just like those Cali chicks, but they don’t have to be cooped up in storage six months of the year. I may have my Yokohama M+S tires on, but two-wheel drive just doesn’t cut it over the snow-blind mountain passes in the Kootenays, where I winter these days. By the time summer rolls around, though, I’m always ready and raring to go.
And what’s under the hood? You’ll have to buy me a drink before you can change my oil, you dog.
I jest.
Actually, I’m pretty robust under there. I’ve got the 360 V8 engine of Dodge Charger fame, covered with a doghouse in the cab. And I’m no regular B200 work van, oh no. I’m the 1978 Dodge Tradesman 200 Maxivan. That’s right. As the kids would say, my boot pops.
My interior appliances are all vintage Coleman, and I’ve got a faux dark wood wallpaper finish straight out of Bewitched. The series, that is. And do I even need to mention my Creamsicle exterior and custom matching curtains? I know how cool I look. People tell me all the time. I live for the attention, darling.
I was converted for road trips and camping in my infancy, so I’ve not travelled as far as most vans my age. In fact, I just clocked 30,000km on the odometer. Not bad for a 42 year old, eh? My prior humans kept me in the tip top condition you see before you; we only took one trip out to Vancouver Island a year, staying at serviced campgrounds, and sticking to the front roads.
Millie and Wyatt are not like my previous humans. They’re younger than I am! And let me tell you something about these Millenials: they’re bloody vegans, they didn’t know my carburetor from my exhaust pipe when they bought me, they took me on lumpy and bumpy Forest Service Roads, and parked me in the strangest places, with not a single electric outlet in sight! At least they play good music from my day. Cassettes all the way, baby!
They’re fine by me, though. The kids may be alright after all if these two tree huggers are any indication of what’s to come. And, to be fair, they did show me a side of my stomping grounds that I hadn’t quite appreciated before.
Anyway, I’m rambling. If you’re still reading, good. You’ve got lots more exciting tales from Millie, Wyatt, and my adventures to come. They tell me this is going onto something called a “blog.” How delightfully thrilling! I’m finally on the information superhighway — not just Highway 3 or the Icefields Parkway — en route to fame and fortune.
If I’ve piqued your interest with what I’ve said, stay tuned for more memories, thoughts, photos, and fun from our summer in B.C. and beyond.
Speak more soon, lovelies. Ta-ta!
