A couple of months ago, as the last of the snow was vanishing into gray and gritty puddles, I pulled the cover off Harv with a sigh, knowing it was time to spruce him up and find him a new home. I had envisaged a difficult couple of months with internet ads, tyre kickers and lowball bids. But what actually happened was that the moment Harv’s cover crumpled to the ground, our next door neighbours Frank and Peggy looked over the fence and asked whether we would ever consider selling…

To be honest, that sums up our experience of GMC ownership. We have been blessed with good luck throughout the whole process of finding, buying, travelling in and ultimately selling our GMC. From the moment the Michigan snows melted just enough for my Dad and I to drive him down from Traverse City Michigan, to the parts and advice that were all in easy reach on the ‘net as I tidied him up, to the community of owners who got us going again in a matter of hours in Halifax Nova Scotia when we lost a CV joint, to the house in Cambridge that came (by chance) with a drive just big enough for Harv, to the people next door who had admired him from afar from the moment we drove in. And as much as anything our fun with this old boy has been about the people he has introduced us to along the way; the Jerrys in Michigan who got us going in the first place, the unbelievably knowledgeable enthusiasts at GMC.net who were never short of advice or humour, Jim and Elly Brennan and the kindhearted folks in the Tidewater Crabs, Paul and Nancy in Halifax wwho opened their home and garage to us, and the many, many unnamed people along the way who made space for us at busy junctions with a smile and a wave, or who came to chat on a garage forecourt, or in a newly found campsite. What a delight to drive something that seems to kindle warm feelings in those around you.

Harvey has taken us into places popular and quiet, mountainous and flat, wooded and barren, coastal and inland. He became a part of our lives in a way we hadn’t expected. Philippa found it hard to be inside our GMC when she knew it was about to be no longer ours – there were too many good memories embedded there. I found it impossible to believe that the motorhome I had spent so many hours in, under, and on top of’, wrestling with, being perplexed and occasionally soaked by was not going to be ours forever. But he isn’t. In fact he isn’t even ours now. Peggy and Frank have already taken Harv on an inaugural drive and will park him in their own back yard just as soon as they have made it ready for 26 feet of seventies gloriousness.

So, thanks for everything Harv. The journey that began in a musty GMC in Virginia when Philippa and I looked at each other and “just knew”, went on to a chilly Michigan barn and Harv, followed by a great roadtrip with my Dad through the backwoods of West Virginia, then to Washington DC, the mountains of New York State, Quebec, Gaspe, Nova Scota and Maine, has ended with our next door neighbours driving our pride and joy off into the sunset in Cambridge, Mass. There was a lot of fun on the way and hopefully too the inspiration for a book I will write one of these days…

And what of this site? Well I think the GMC-related posts have probably come to an end, but this blog is really about a state of mind and the story of a journey – many journeys in fact. So I will keep writing here about other trips, other adventures and other ways to ride the Magic Bus. Thanks for coming along. We’ve enjoyed every minute of it.