My first and only tent-camping trip happened when I was in the sixth grade in the mid-1980s. The two teachers for our large class at the gifted elementary school I attended took the whole thing very seriously. We were rated on our successful execution of things we had learned in preparation for spending a couple of nights outdoors. “Camp Ligon”, which is located in Clio, Michigan, has become a catchall phrase among us who are still friends from that time for how to suck every last iota of fun out of something that people usually do for recreation. Usage: “Way to ‘Ligon’ that experience, friend.” Okay. Maybe it’s just me who says that. Many of my elementary school cohorts maintain that they had really enjoyed going there.
It wasn’t like I hadn’t camped or been to a camp before that episode. The previous summer, I had spent a week at YMCA-sponsored Camp Copneconic in Fenton, Michigan, which was about fourteen miles (depending on route) from my house in Flint. I was housed in a cabin with three sets of bunk beds, with five other guys roughly my age from various ethnic and socioeconomic backgrounds. I have occasionally wondered what ever happened to those dudes.
We did stupid stuff that was mostly harmless, until the day we decided to play a game where one of us would hold our breath while another would push on our chest to see if we would pass out. Of course, I was the first guy to hit the concrete, which earned me a trip to the camp nurse, and then immediately afterward to the office of the Camp Coordinator, a stern but likeable gentleman named Fritz. Generally being the rule-follower that I was, I was more freaked out by being in trouble than the pain of my slight injuries. Ultimately, though, all I got was a stern talking-to, and a lesson in not necessarily needing to go along with what others are doing, a lesson that has continued to serve me well into adulthood.
Your author in the sixth grade, in the mid-1980s.
Among the more wholesome and fun activities included during my time at Camp Copneconic were archery, swimming, the making of various crafts, horseback riding, and frisbee golf. This was what I imagine to be a good representation of what summer camp looks like for much of middle America. Ligon was different. In advance of the trip, we had to learn how to build fires, how to plot courses and navigate trails using a compass, and also how to plan and prepare meals and dried fruit. We were assessed on our abilities not only to put up the tent, but also how to choose the best spot for it based on (if I recall correctly) dryness and slope.
A Boy Scout I wasn’t, and I felt that I hadn’t signed up for this by simply going to school. I’m not fussy, and in fact, I think I’m pretty low-key, if a bit cerebral at times. I have the receipts to prove I have well-developed skills in adapting to challenging situations out of necessity. However, I had felt that perhaps the school curriculum had gone just a step or two too far with everything associated with Ligon. It didn’t help that one of my sixth grade teachers who was co-hosting this trip used to tell me I did some things “like a girl” – which was true, but he shouldn’t have said it. No sixth grade boy is a paragon of manliness.
A couple of years prior when my family had lived in rural, upcountry Liberia for a year, we resided in a concrete block house that at least had an indoor toilet (which was flushed using a bucket of collected rainwater) and a Honda power generator that worked enough of the time. I’m all about appreciating the positives. Back at Camp Ligon, aside from being good friends with my tentmates and the occasional laughter out of utter resignation at the ridiculousness of certain situations, the experience wasn’t my favorite and probably the defining moment that put me off of camping for another twenty years. I look back at Ligon with fondness now, simply because it has become the source of so many jokes with my fellow classmates.
With all of that said, when I had spotted this vintage Jeep CJ-7 a couple of summers ago in the Chicago neighborhood just north of mine, the thing that struck me immediately was just what a contrast it provided with Jeep’s modern offerings. This thing just looks so spartan, especially compared with a brand new Wrangler Willys in which some friends had showed up the night of this year’s July 4th fireworks. “Nav”-what? Leather? Pshaw. I wonder what the original seats in this machine would have looked like.
I’m completely unclear on the model year of this example, even after researching what I had hoped would be reasonably easy, telltale signs. The CJ-7 was introduced for ’76 on a wheelbase that added about a foot to that of the CJ-5 on which it was based (93.3″ versus 81″). This stretch allowed for an automatic transmission, among other things, which broadened appeal for more types of buyers. Production would continue through ’86, after which it was replaced by the Wrangler. Over 379,000 CJ-7s were made over its eleven model years.
A print ad from 1979, as sourced from the internet.
Available engines were myriad over its production run, ranging from two four-cylinder units both displacing 2.5 liters (AMC’s own unit, and also Pontiac’s “Iron Duke”), AMC’s two sixes displacing 232 and 258 cubic inches, and then their range-topping 304 cubic inch V8. Manual transmissions were available with three, four, and five gears, though the newly-available automatic was predictably a three-speed unit. The CJ-7 was the first Jeep with an automatic, and other firsts for a CJ were steel doors and an available molded plastic top. The optional Quadra-Trac automatic four-wheel-drive system was another selling point for Jeeps of this era, which allowed the 4WD system to engage without the separate step of locking the hubs. All CJs were 4WD.
If this CJ-7 was the equivalent of camping out in a tent, then modern Wranglers, with their modern styling and relatively luxurious range of equipment, both standard and optional, seem to be more like “glamping”. This is a coined term that is a portmanteau of “glam” and “camping”, and it sometimes includes things like Wi-Fi, mimosas, and running water. I like the new Wranglers, which are very capable machines. Aside from a two-hour highway ride in one in the mid-’90s that almost jarred my fillings loose, I’ve got nothing but respect for them and their sustained and well-deserved popularity as an American icon. It’s just that seeing this particular example, once the archetype that used to be so common, brought to mind the contrast between this make’s offerings between then and now. As it used to be said in print advertisements for Virginia Slims, “You’ve come a long way, Baby.” Maybe it’s time for me to give camping another try.
Rogers Park, Chicago, Illinois.
Sunday, August 4, 2019.
“…which was true, but he shouldn’t have said it.”
Oh dear – the damage teachers can do to a fragile early-teen ego by shooting their mouth off. I really feel for you there.
It had a happy ending with our ADHD and dyslexic son though. Class teacher Ms. Know-it-all told us he should leave at the end of year 11 and that he’d never amount to much. Red rag to a bull! Of course we complained about the teacher’s comment, but Ben got his own revenge in his own special way. Got an apprenticeship as a heavy diesel fitter (first application!), and once a month when he had the day off he brought fish and chips to school for his classmates. Raced through that apprenticeship, and does really well at his job in locomotive maintenance.
Needless to say, the other kids gained a whole new perspective on what used to be ‘dropping out’.
After Liberia, Camp Ligon must’ve seemed a luxury.
Oh, forgot the CC-in-scale. Can’t have that, now….. 🙂
So great about your son, Peter, and to your point, success is often the best revenge. I have wondered sometimes if that particular teacher might have been going through something – we never know what other people are dealing with, personally. It has been said of bullies (and I wouldn’t call my teacher a “bully”) that something motivates it. Other students liked him alright, and he didn’t torture me regularly, or anything. I was only hurt that he took what I felt were cheap shots at an insecure kid.
As for living in upcountry Liberia, it rocked. I wouldn’t even say we “roughed it” in all senses of the word. There were sacrifices, for sure. I laugh at myself sometimes when I feel like I need to get inside into some air conditioning, when all we had back then were glass jalousie windows, fans, and insect repellant. Our house was fairly nice and laid out not that differently than some older houses in Florida.
Ligon tasted like personal failure and judgement to me, which is probably why I hated it. I love nature! I would like to camp again. Last time was in a cabin over ten years ago.
Nice one, Joseph. This brings up many memories of camping with my family, with Boy Scouts, and as an adult, including the nearly 3 months when I lived in a tent (during a job that I had as a whitewater photographer). While I can appreciate occasional roughing it in the style of this Jeep (or no vehicle at all), these days I like being comfortable and hope to eventually afford a Sprinter-type van.
This particular Jeep reminds me of the cover of one of my favorite books…
Corey, that photography assignment sounds so cool. One thing about these Jeeps, also like the one in the book you posted, is that they conjure up adventure by association, which is another reason I like them.
Similar to Corey Behrens, this has reminded (triggered? prompted? inspired?) me of the family vacation to Minnesota around 1987 in which we camped six of the nine nights.
I had some realizations on that trip, such as it seems the state bird of Minnesota is the mosquito. Also, raccoons can be hungry enough to eat a bar of soap. Most importantly, cigar smoke is comparable to body odor in helping keep away the skeeters.
The last time I camped out was in a rather primitive building at a 4H facility near Lake of the Ozarks, although there was a roof and running water, so it’s hard to call it camping. However, speaking of running, the first thing I saw upon walking inside was the various mice taking cover from the intruders.
Your featured Jeep looks a fair amount like one a coworker built. He had the frame and axles on hand, finding what he needed and building it from there.
Jason, I’m laughing because mosquitos, soap-eating raccoons, cigar smoke, and rats are individual elements that could combine in one very memorable nightmare.
You mention your co-worker’s Jeep being somewhat homemade, and that made me remember having a similar thought about this one when I had first seen it. It was the under-dashboard wires that made me wonder if this was a rolling project Jeep. I loved the contrast it provided against the other vehicles on this side street.
Im trying to imagine driving that around Chicago. I suspect it’s great fun on the surface streets, and slightly terrifying on the Expressways.
Dan, this makes me wonder about the size and speed limit of street I might feel comfortable driving or riding in this Jeep. Someone else mentioned the absence of the roll bar. I’d say that without said roll bar, and to your point, I’d be okay on a four-lane road around Chicago, and maybe even DuSable Lake Shore Drive north of downtown, but that would be pretty much it. No Dan Ryan Expressway in this thing.
I did a bit of Scouting, and as a dad was a good camp-dad at the Cub Scout level, but by the time one of mine went to Boy Scouts, I was happy to let other dads do camp duty.
I think my age is showing, but I would call the CJ-5 the equivalent to tent camping. This would be like one of those little pop-up trailers with canvas and screen sides – not luxury by any means, but a little bigger and with a better bed.
At the time, and even now, I consider the CJ-7 the beginning of the softening (dare I say wussification?) of Jeep. An automatic? Steel doors with roll-up windows? A hard plastic roof? Pshaw! Yes, I know I’m in the minority and that Jeep has sold six bazillion units to folks who find that those conveniences are the difference between pleasantness and misery. But I still look back with fondness at the 76 CJ-5 a cousin owned, with its V8/4 speed drivetrain. THAT was a fun driver!
Jeeps have a weird dual identity now, and one could argue that it really started with the CJ-7. You can now roll through the wilderness with the hardtop on, the windows rolled up, the air conditioning on, the multi-speaker stereo playing, and the navigation system pointing the way. But you can also remove the hardtop, fold the windshield down, remove the doors, turn off all the other stuff, and simply bounce through the back country like one did (and still does) in the older Jeeps.
The dual identity allows daily driving in a modicum of safety, efficiency, and comfort, but still somewhat “rough it” on occasion. But the old Jeeps are still more of a pure play in doing it roughly. This example of the CJ-7 is pure old school, with the windshield down and the doors and roof off.
Brilliant analysis of the appeal of modern Wranglers.
Considering lawsuits killed the CJ7 (or at least, that what news reports said at the time) and jeep desperately tried to distance themselves from it with the square headlight wrongler…
Maybe I’d put that line of demarcation at the wide track CJ7 years. That pushed it half way to a wrangler anyway.
All that being said, and currently the owner of a mint stock 81 narrow track, and formerly of a wrangler and a last year CJ7…
They’re all rough as a cob, unable to keep up with traffic on the highway, and very uncomfortable to drive other than in nice weather.
So I’d consider them all tents. Haha.
JP, it’s funny you should mention the metaphor of pop-up trailers. I recently saw one being towed up North Sheridan Road in my neck of the woods, and it dawned on my that I don’t remember having seen one of those in a while.
I’d guess that the step up from a tent to a pop-up trailer is greater than that of moving from a CJ-5 to a CJ-7, even if only because you’re up off the ground. Having said that, I have never camped in a pop-up trailer before. My grandparents had a small Winnebago at one point that I thought was the coolest.
Interesting timing, as we’re about to head to the southern coast of Oregon for three days of camping to escape another heat wave. And I’m going to be in a…tent. Stephanie’s 94 year old mother, who is in great mental and physical shape, came to live with us a few months back, in the studio above the garage that was once an Airbnb.
We went down there last week for our first two night trial camping, with Stephanie and Dolores in the van, and me in a little tent nearby. It worked out well. I actually like sleeping in tents, feeling even more directly connected to the outdoors.
I won’t even begin to dredge up the unpleasant memories of grade school and Boy Scouts when I (and a few others) were on the wrong side of the popularity divide. They call it the “good old days”, but it wasn’t all that good if you were an outsider of any kind.
That’s awesome. I like that you took a trial run! I hope it’s a great and relaxing trip for everyone.
Interesting that the passenger gets a headrest, while the driver does not. I would have configured it the other way around, since there’s always a driver but not always a passenger.
Or better yet, I would have gotten two seats with proper whiplash support.
Tom, thanks for pointing that out. I didn’t even notice that the seats were different. What would be the scenario in which two front seats wouldn’t match? I’m still confused, because the seat coverings match.
I was fortunately spared the Adolescent School Camping Trip because I grew up in Philadelphia where camping was practically unheard-of. But I discovered the outdoors as an adult, and now love camping, hunting and fishing. Pre-teen Me would have found that highly unlikely.
To me, for a vehicle-to-camping analogy, this CJ conjures up images of a mountain man sleeping on a blanket under a tree, with coyotes howling in the distance.
Eric, we both came from Rust Belt cities, and I’m thinking that this is why some of my classmates really took a shine to the whole Ligon experience. It was just so far removed from what many kids from an urban / city environment would normally experience, unless we had relatives or contacts to visit in more remote areas.
And your analogy made me laugh. It fits, though.
It looks Mad Maxian enough to battle its way through Chicago, but removing the roll bar seems ill-adivsed especially if this ever sees its way to elevated speeds. Catch a wheel with that liftkit on anything and it could well go over, you’re not going to duck yourself out of the way.
The only thing that I think could make this more “Mad Max” would be a rattle can black primer finish. I wonder if the removal of the roll bar (and thanks for pointing that out) was permanent, or temporary while other things were being attended to.
Now, THAT is a JEEP!
Some time back…decades, actually…my wife said that her sister and her husband were getting a new car to replace a rusted-out Subaru.
She said it was a Jeep…”a real JEEP.”
What it really turned out to be was (RLPlaut’s words, in a COAL): “a nice solid and proven 4.0 straight six XJ Cherokee.” In a real non-JEEP metallic teal! Good suburban Mom-mobile, actually.
Almost from day one, Willys, Kaiser, AMC, and then Chrysler/Daimler/FCA/Stellanatis have slapped a “Jeep” badge on vehicles with various levels of non-Jeepness. But there has always been a CJ or Wrangler in the product line to protect the brand, so they have gotten away with it. To the satisfaction of hard-core Jeep fans, there will always need to be a pure-play Jeep in the product line to define the nameplate.
The 911 plays a comparable role for Porsche, protecting their image even as most Porsche sales are now SUVs. The 911 (and maybe 718/Boxster) remaining in production lets them get away with it.
Trying to think of other examples…
Hello Joe. Great story and photos as usual! I never was a boy scout myself, though I’m not sure exactly why. I did my fair share of camping as a kid, and I will agree with Paul re: a tent being the preferred way to camp. But the boy scouts? No thanks. I spotted a similar AMC-era Jeep just yesterday. Only got one good shot of it, since I was carrying groceries and someone want to park in the spot where I was standing. (Full size photo posted to the cohort.)
Mike, that CJ-7 Renegade is a beauty – I especially like the typefont on the hood. I’m an insurance underwriter by day, which includes writing coverage for some classic vehicles. I’ve been happily surprised to see nicely restored examples of Jeeps like the one in your picture.
We had the top-of-the-line CJ7 Renegade Levis edition with V-8, A/T and Quadra-Trac and fiberglass hardtop in Hawaii. The only downside of the “luxury” Jeep was carpeting in always raining Hawaii. Mushrooms were growing in it.
That sounds like a nice ride. I have always liked the “Levi’s” editions of various AMC / Jeep products. I wonder if the moisture on the carpet problem was limited to Jeeps or vehicles like it, or simply more common in Hawaii for all types of vehicles, given the frequent rain.
I never went to a Boy Scout, YMCA or any organized summer camp. We always camped as a family instead, Dad and my uncle were not know-it-all jerks, but we all learned and worked together in relative harmony and fun. Tent camping from a station wagon in developed campgrounds, then later adventures in the deserts that dad loved in more primitive and private surroundings.
This is how I know for sure I’m not a Jeep guy – or really an off-road guy. Just looking at that makes me feel uncomfortable, thinking about how miserable I would be driving or riding in that. Everything would be shaking and bouncing while making the corresponding rattles and clanks. Basically, everything someone likes about it, I hate.
I don’t know when I became such a curmudgeon.
I’ll just say that I get it. The last time I remember riding for any period of time in a Jeep was probably 8 to 10 years ago. I remember riding back from a wedding celebration in one that belonged to a friend with the top and doors off doing about 40 – 45 mph. There was a whole lot of sensory input between the bumps, road sounds, and wind. I’m just glad I rode back from the wedding in that Jeep and didn’t arrive in it.
Besides the numerous faults that you mention, I also see a big-time rollover hazard, and it apparently doesn’t even have shoulder belts.
No thanks!
The lack of a roll bar/cage is quite disconcerting. I’m not a finger-wagging type, but this jacked up Jeep looks a wee bit dangerous to me.
Nice old Jeep. My wife and I both like Jeeps, but her tastes run more towards a modern Wrangler (with an automatic). I like them as well, but I’d love a gnarly old beast like this for hitting the trails and back roads…with a roll bar, please. As for camping, we did a few trips with rented tent trailers as a kid, including a trip to Canada’s Maritime provinces back in the mid-‘70’s. I don’t mind roughing it in a tent, and I’ve gone on many tent and canoeing trips over the years, including Algonquin Park and Massassauga Park here in Ontario. My wife prefers four walls and indoor plumbing, but I can get her into a tent once in a while. One of the best trips I took was a week-long canoe trip into Wabakimi Provincial Park back in 2014 with a few friends. To get there, we drove from Toronto to Thunder Bay. Then, it was a two hour drive to where the road ends in a little town called Armstrong. From there we loaded our canoes and stuff into a 1951 de Havilland Beaver that dropped us off on a lake well inside the park. We cleaned up a few campsites, did a lot of paddling around and had a couple of great fish fries – all the big walleyes you could catch. I got eaten alive by the bugs (it was the end of June) but well worth it. At the end of the week we flew back in another old de Havilland – this time an Otter – to Armstrong and enjoyed a well-earned meal at a local restaurant with cold beer to wash it down. I’ve been on a few more car camping trips since then, but that topped them all. I wouldn’t mind taking that old Jeep into the back country some time.
Our Jeep in the 1960’s was a pristine 1952 M38A1 ~ it was still 24 volts and had bright lights when most rural Jeeps were rusty clunkers with dim 6 volt headlights .
The older ones were pretty cobby and slow -but- they’d go anywhere and not need to bash the poor thing to death like my son does his 10 year old Jeep . the AC and top on it is very nice truth be told .
Camping was great fun back in the dayze, I suggest you give it a try, go with someone who’s done it recently .
I still find these CJ5’s here and there in the Desert and think ‘I’ve always wanted a Jeep..’ _nah_
-Nate
Funny thing about Jeeps…My Dad was in the Army from 1950-1953, and was stationed in Germany, he never mentioned driving or riding in a Jeep. He remembered a REO truck which they had to clean the engine on when some K rations they wire-tied to the exhaust manifold exploded when they didn’t stop at the normal interval so they could remove them and have something other than a cold meal.
He also drove several VW Beetles, which I guess they Army had for their use. He later bought one as a civilian, it was his first “2nd” car, he bought a used 1959, back in 1966 or so. It was in Vermont, so it was already a rust bucket, the battery rusted through the floor under the back seat and was dragging on the ground before he stopped. It was parked in front of our house (we only had a single car garage and driveway despite having a new home built in 1965…so the “other” car was parked out front) when some kids down the street ran into it and totalled it. Guess rear engine/ RWD was OK for the military. He was stationed on a town on the Czech border, I guess during when the “cold war” started. Was able to go to college on the GI bill afterwards, he became a chemist.
He never owned a Jeep, but did own 2 Rambler Classic Wagons, but I guess that was well before AMC owned Jeep, so probably doesn’t count.