This is the beginning of a journey. I fell in love with her the first time I saw her. She’s has the perfect balance between size and comfort. Any larger and she would be a pain in the neck to haul, any smaller and you wouldn’t have enough room to turn around inside. Seeing her there behind the fence, towered over by a neglected yacht, my imagination went flush with the possibilities. I could see so much potential beneath that tarnished shell. She had to be rescued. Once I got a look at the interior I knew she would be mine. A lot of elbow grease and a bit of ingenuity and we will have the perfect little pull-behind. This is my first vintage camper and I look forward to the challenge. Sadly I don’t know much about her history. I’ve met two of her previous owners. The earliest worked at a pawn shop and used the Shasta as hunting camp. He’d leave her parked out in the woods year round, only visiting her a few weekends out of the year. From what I can figure he owned her for two years. According to the next owner, he didn’t take very good car of her. She went without routine maintenance and was wasting away. The next owner was the man I purchased her from. He seemed like a clean guy and he used her the same as the last. The difference is he pulled her out of the woods in the off season and took that chance to do maintenance. Every outside seam is thickly coated with what appears to be roof sealer. He installed a queen size platform over the rear bench and did some repairs to the damaged areas. That’s all I know of her history. 40 years of missing story. What a shame. This is her story now.