The Moho and The Chance of a Lifetime

For our girls, having a motor home was akin to the good life. Every three weeks it was our turn to have the Moho, and they looked forward to that date with much energy. Leland of course was gainfully employed at the time, and so mostly we just went on weekend trips. Once we took Leland’s parents, his sister LuAnn and her daughter Meredith up to Temple Square. It was great fun, and we thought we were pretty hot stuff tootling along the freeway.

A few times we took the Moho up in the American Fork canyon, and we could always count on it being pleasant and cool there in the hot summers. The girls loved to slide down “slippery rock,” a massive old rock that probably rolled down the mountainside centuries ago. But the furthest we ever went in the Moho was to Bear Lake each year for family reunions. Now those were some good times. Truth be told, it was so old we didn’t dare take it much further, in the event it may fall apart on us somewhere out in the countryside.

Once I purchased a mini Moho at a yard sale, it being an exact replica, but only about two and a half feet long. The girls used it for years as their Barbie motor home. One time when it was our turn to relinquish the Moho to the Glenns for the week, as a joke we parked the mini Moho in their driveway and called them to say we’d brought it over. Needless to say we all had a good laugh, and eventually we brought the original around.

Leland’s memories of the Moho are that it was like driving a big old box around that shook and rattled all over the road. He was either constantly repairing something on it, or it was in Gatenby’s shop waiting for a major fix. One thing’s for sure, owning a motor home cured us of ever wanting to own one again. Since that time, whenever we see one of those big rigs on the road, we remember the all-encompassing upkeep, and feel most grateful for a Marriott card. However, I will say that I wouldn’t trade the memories, and I think our girls would agree.

Our family trip to New Zealand was planned for, three years in advance. We had a meeting, and decided that together we would have to save up, and pay for all of it ahead. We started a huge glass coin jar, and I went to work part time. We took all of the money I earned and set it aside in a special account to help pay for the trip. A few weeks prior we had a mammoth Saturday yard sale, and netted over $300, which at the time seemed like pretty good money. The one mistake we made was to sell the girl’s media center that Leland had carefully crafted one Christmas. They had practically grown up doing their artwork, homework, crafts and coloring on these tables. They were crushed, especially Robyn. We felt so bad to think we had hurt their feelings, but with time I think they’ve forgiven us.

We embarked on our trip the exact day we had planned on, each with a huge suitcase, and a large carry bag. We had purchased that doggone luggage just on the cusp of the transformation of the luggage world. Soon after, wheels on luggage were all the rage, and we were now stuck with our outdated, difficult to move gear. Somehow we survived, but those maroon and green dinosaurs have haunted us ever since.

The trip was most successful, and I was able to proudly show my family the sights and tastes of my homeland. The highlight of course was for them to meet my family, and most especially my Mother. Up until that point when the weather was cold, Leland could often be heard to say, “It’s as cold as a mother-in-law’s kiss.” After that he was prone to employ his seldom seen sensitive side.

In all we were gone for seven weeks: four weeks in New Zealand, two weeks in Australia and one week in Hawaii. It was definitely a chance of a lifetime for our family. I would have to say the best outcome of the trip was the closeness and camaraderie we felt afterwards. Somehow being together for seven weeks had strengthened the bonds we had already begun.


Hilda S. Gamette
April 24, 2012