To look at her now, it was hard to imagine Rhonda Wessel was not on board with the idea.
Her level of enthusiasm was not exactly redlining when she first laid eyes on a 1966 Shasta Airflyte, a camper that was serving as a storage bin for stuffed animals to be sold at flea markets.
On the other hand, her husband, Chris, had heard "the voice" and was enamored with the project of renovating an old camper. He was more like a kid, or at least someone ready to relive a second childhood. Chris had camped a lot in his youth, often in his parents' camper, and he was launching what turned out to be a six-month search for a vintage camper in Rockview, Missouri.
"I tagged along," Rhonda says. "I thought he was nuts."
To Chris's chagrin, the owner wasn't selling.
The search remained futile until Chris decided to return to Rockview and found circumstances had turned the woman into a willing seller.
Chris remained "nuts" when he returned two days later to pick up his $450 purchase.
"I said, 'We're going to look like a band of gypsies,'" Rhonda says, recalling words she uttered back in July of 2014.
Nine months later, Rhonda was on board in every sense of the word, taking a maiden voyage with Chris to Sam A. Baker State Park for a weekend. She had seen the light.
Chris, a carpenter with the Missouri Conservation Department, had completely gutted the inside of the camper in his spare time. He insulated the entire interior with 1 1/2 inches of Styrofoam and replaced all the wiring. He was in the painting stage when he noticed a difference in his wife.
"About halfway through it was when Rhonda came on board," Chris says. "She seen what it was going to be like."
Appliances -- microwave, refrigerator/freezer -- were bought. They opted for a comfortable mattress as they tailored the interior to their own taste.
Chris installed an old stereo and CD player, complete with a speaker in a picnic basket that can be set outside so they can listen to music and St. Louis Cardinals baseball games.
A table, trimmed back six inches in length, and a wardrobe closet are about the only remnants left from the original.
What originally was designed to uncomfortably sleep six, comfortably sleeps two.
"He made it for us," Rhonda says. "Everything is for two people. If somebody else comes, and they do, they sleep outside in a tent. We're usually accommodating; we set up their tent and everything."
When out-of-town guests visit their home, they even offer their own bed, preferring to sleep in the camper.
The couple likes to antique, and they prefer functional items from another era in the decor.
They found and use coffee cups like the ones Chris's mom had years ago, and colored aluminum drinking cups are the same type as the ones he and his three bothers used as kids.
"We like to incorporate a lot of things I remember from my childhood and growing up," Chris says.
A suitcase-looking picnic basket holds vintage tablecloths for lunches on antique trips or hikes. Fishing, something they both enjoy, is incorporated into the decor along with other passions.
"We both like using, I don't know, for the lack of a better term, old stuff," Chris says. "Like I still fish with a lot of older tackle."
The vintage theme overflows to the exterior, which Chris made an effort to look original. He re-skinned the lower back panel of the camper and made his own decorative fins, a signature feature of Shastas, to specification. Vintage Coleman coolers also turn back the clocks.
Inside, gifts from friends and family are visible, including Shasta Airflyte replicas in the form of a porcelain bank and a Christmas ornament.
"Everything means something to us," Chris says.
Especially red, a recurring color both in the interior and exterior.
It's a tribute to Charlotte, Chris's mom, who was part of many memorable trips over the course of her life.
"Her favorite color was red, and she loved redbirds," Rhonda says. "We started with red."
In fact, the refurbished camper is named Charlotte, something Chris had in mind when he first bought it but didn't reveal until a family gathering after the project was completed.
Charlotte has proven roadworthy.
Rhonda keeps a log of the 20 trips taken thus far, including a 1,900-mile round trip to Michigan. But for a quick review of their travels, they need only look at pins inserted into the states of Missouri, Illinois, Arkansas, Kentucky and Tennessee painted on a plaque near the door.
Rhonda created the plaque, which also includes Michigan, a painting of the camper and the phrase, "Oh, the places we will go ..."
Other items in view, like a porcelain Coleman cooler knick knack, spark memories and serve as reminders of where they've been. It might be an old shelf fan from southeast Kansas or a thermos from Oklahoma.
They never know when or what they might add to their collection.
"When we go antiquing, I'll see something, I'll tell Rhonda, and I'll use the term, 'It's speaking to me,'" Chris says.
The statement makes Rhonda giggle.
Chris smiles and laughs at those words, too, but he's serious.
It was the voice he heard when he launched the whole endeavor. They were empty nesters with both their children in college, and Rhonda was working what Chris called "80-hour" weeks and never would relax.
Rhonda puts the number of hours around 60 but concedes it was a lot.
"It's like, I seen all the stress and everything she was going through, and that was kind of bothering me and I knew she needed to relax, so I got to looking," Chris says. "So this whole process of looking for this camper, the whole vision that I had in my mind for it, it was speaking to me."
Rhonda now realizes her partner of 37 years was not losing it when he started hearing the voices of old campers.
She often reads books while Chris ties flies or cooks meals with a Dutch oven. There is no TV and often no cellphone service.
"It's like playing house, and it's so relaxing," Rhonda says. "We'll either go hike the trails, we'll fish, sometimes we go antiquing during the day. Sometimes we just sit in here. I do crafts."
While Chris says restoring old campers has become a trend, especially on the West Coast, they usually are the lone retro campers at their destinations.
"We are the unique ones when you go to the campgrounds," Rhonda says. "If you come see us camping, we would be the oddball."
They don't mind when other campers slow down and gawk, and they don't mind giving tours. Rhonda gave six of them one Sunday morning to curious campers, who they say usually muster the courage late in the weekend before departing.
"We often said we wanted to get T-shirts made that say, 'It's all right to ask us about our camper,'" Chris says.
Best get that look before Chris and Rhonda hook Charlotte to their 2012 Ford F-150 and head back to Cape Girardeau County.
"Everybody says, because my mom and my dad always had station wagons, we need to find an old mid-'60s station wagon to pull it with," Chris says. "We haven't gotten to that point yet."
That is, they've yet to speak.
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