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By the end of 1980, my position with the Oregon Country Fair had progressed to that of Communications Technician, that is, I was responsible for the care and use of the fair's large number of citizen's band two-way radios. The fair had quite a number of handheld walkie-talkies, mobile and base radios, outdoor and vehicle antennas and mounts, microphones, storage batteries, etc.
Being that the fair owned all this equipment, they were occasionally approached by the organizers of other events for radio rentals. In each case, wherever the radios were rented out, I was sent along to keep track of them, insure that the users knew how to use them, repair any defects or damage, and collect and inventory the radio equipment at the end of the event.
One such event was organized for the Labor Day weekend of 1980. Vortex II was to be the ten-year anniversary of Vortex I, the (so far) first and only state-sponsored rock festival in the country. This time around, the event was supposed to be a display of Alternative Energy (now known as Renewable Energy, I was never sure what it was supposed to be the "alternative" to). This interested me, as I had been living for three years without utility power, and wanted to see first-hand the wonders of photovoltaics, etc.
For the previous 15 months, I had put a load of work into the Housetruck, cutting away the front wall to build a cab-over sleeping loft, replacing the panelling and putting up new trim, finishing the ceiling, new kitchen cabinets, etc. I had also begun preparing the truck for painting, replacing the hood which was damaged in an incident with a falling tree, the passenger door which had been caved in by a drunk, and small parts and pieces that needed freshening.
All of this work had taken place at the far end of the property where I was living, back on a forested hillside. The first task was to get the truck down off the supporting blocks, across the creek and back near the pavement where it could be driven away. Sounds simple enough, but since the last time I had driven it, a lot of steel had been fabricated over the cab, and although I had confidence in my welding abilities, I was a bit apprehensive about moving the truck for the first time.
The trip out of the woods was uneventful, and I parked the truck in the parking lot of the property, out where we did have utility power, to get it ready for the trip to the festival.
To complete the interior, I borrowed some elegant furniture from a friend, a large sofa and some rugs.
(This was back when I had a green thumb, there were houseplants all over the inside of the truck. Nowdays, I can barely keep spider plants alive.)
My girlfriend at the time decided to come along, so we made plans to make a circle route down the Oregon coast after the festival. We packed the truck with food and I picked up the OCF radio equipment, storing it away in the kitchen cabinets. Since I owned a vintage Wincharger windmill from the 1920's, I loaded it and a short stub tower onto the truck so that I could exhibit it at the festival, putting the tower section and my old bicycle on the front rack at the grille of the truck.
The drive was unexciting, just the way I like it. The festival was scheduled to take place at Willamette Mission State Park, a few miles northwest of Salem. The total driving distance was perhaps 70 miles. The truck drove fine, although it was kind of disarming to see the cab-over hanging over the windshield. The truck sat a little lower in the front due to the added weight, and I made a mental note that I was going to have to tighten up the torque rods in the front suspension to restore the ride height.
(Continued when my scanner is functional so I can insert photos)
