A CAMPER FOR SASHA

By Kathleen Casper
​It’s difficult to choose where to live when you are a Pacific Northwest mountain person and a tropical Florida beaches person. So, our family moved back and forth across the country every few years in an attempt to have it all. Three years in Washington State, then three or four in Florida, then back again. We’ve moved our five children cross-country so many times that even the four-year-old could probably give you directions.
That being said, we never just moved anywhere- we caravanned with our entourage of vehicles, boats, campers, and so many pets. Last we counted, the 12-year-old parakeet had moved across the country three times and around Florida a few times. And the 24-year-old red-earred slider turtle did the national move five times. Then add six cats and a few dogs. We called ourselves the Casper Family Circus and even considered painting the camper like a circus tent at one time.

​My husband, Brad is used to the chaos and my insatiable yearning for new places and exciting adventures. That’s why it makes me giggle a little when I think about this past move when I actually surprised him. He’s pretty unshakable and goes with the flow. But the day I told him I was going to “just see…” a pregnant mini horse, a few weeks before our scheduled move from Florida to Washington, he about fell out of his chair. “You’re going to see WHAT?!” I repeated my statement, grinning. “Where do you think you’re going to put a pregnant mini horse? We already have too many vehicles to move across the country. We didn’t even have a way to tow our second camper. That’s why we had to sell it. And we can’t afford a horse hauling company for a mini horse!” I was giggling by the time he finished. “It’s okay,” I smiled, “I’m only going to LOOK at it.” He knew better. Within a couple hours I was calling, “Can I buy it? She’s sooooo cute!” I imagined him shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Where are we going to put it?”
“Oh, don’t worry,” I soothed him, “I have just the idea. I’m going to make the camper into a horse trailer!”
“What?” he hollered into the phone. “The camper we just spent all year rehabbing?! You’ve got to be kidding.”
But of course, I wasn’t. “It’s a two-for-one special, Brad. A horse within a horse. I just have to have her!” 

So, for the next few weeks, right up until the date we were scheduled to start driving the three thousand plus mile trip, I worked on creating the world’s best horse trailer for the adorable mini in our 1967 Monitor camper.
I was determined to create a safe and secure stall for our new friend, smack dab in the middle of the camper. She would have room to move around, but stall padding to lean against. And the whole thing would be wrapped in tarps and stall mats so no messes would get through to the structure.
First, we took the camper to the trailer shop to have them check the frame and ensure it was solid enough to hold a horse in there. (The horse only weighed about two hundred pounds, but I was scared that she could break through the floor if she stood in one place too long or we hit some bumps.) They assured us that the frame was strong, and they changed the bearings in the wheels and did a safety check on the whole structure.

​Next, I removed the framing for the bunk bed (storing and re-using many of the boards so we could build it back up,) and built a new frame for the horse stall walls. As I built the mini stable, I made sure to leave areas where she could look out the windows, so we could open them and give her some fresh air along the southern route where it would be really hot during the month of May. And I made sure she couldn’t reach anything to chew on all our new finishes. I installed some chicken wire in areas where she might be able to nudge the cabinets, and then added stall pads to all the walls so she had something soft to lean against as we bumped down the road.
Soon, we were ready to try it out and make sure it fit the horse well. We drove over to the farm and led her out to the camper, hoping she would walk up the ramp I’d created out of metal wheelchair ramps. She refused to get in. We spent over an hour trying to talk her into it, enticing her with hay and then grain, and even a whole loaf of bread. She still refused. I was discouraged, but I wouldn’t give up. A few days later, we returned, this time with a fancy ramp Brad built out of wood that screwed into the wheelchair ramps. She still refused at first, but soon was begrudgingly half pulled, half pushed, until she was inside. And it fit perfectly! She stood in there munching on her food and staring at us as if there was no problem.

​Although she had a name already, I decided to call her Sasha, a Russian name because she was like a little Matryoshka doll- a horse within a horse. And the kids called her a unicorn because she was a beautiful white mare. We were in love and determined as ever to get her to our new farm home on the other side of the country.
The following week we arrived to load her up and take her on the long drive. I was so nervous about having to spend another hour loading her every time we stopped to take a break, but she hopped right in that time. She seemed excited to go on a road trip.
I worked it out so that every night, at the end of our long days of driving, we had somewhere to stay where she could stretch out in a stall. Everywhere, except when we got to Kansas and stayed with our relatives. By that time, she was used to her little home and was reluctant to get out and stay in the field. So, we parked the camper in front of the house on the town street and she lived in style in her fancy little camper home. She was the talk of the small town and families walked by to meet her and say hello. She seemed to enjoy her spare time as we spent a couple extra nights there, especially playing in the backyard with the playground equipment and the kids.

​Wherever we stopped, we got a lot of attention. People first came over to check out the brightly colored vintage camper. But when the door opened and a little horse head popped out, they were even more intrigued. I imagine it wasn’t every day that they saw a caravan like ours come to town. It really did feel like we were part of the circus!
Sasha fit right in and never seemed to be flustered. We bumped along the potholes and checked on her often. She didn’t seem to be bothered by the lumps and bumps- that floor was solid, and the stall mat made it comfy. She mainly cared about getting her hay to munch on, and she liked all the extra brushing and petting she got at all the rest stops. She was intrigued by seeing snow for the first time in the Rocky Mountains of Vail, Colorado. And she enjoyed taking walks along with the dogs near gas stations all across the nation. When we stopped for the nights at our Air BnB locations, people came outside to watch us unload the kennels of cats, dogs and little critters, and then just stared when the horse walked out too.
Eventually we made it to Washington, and she was able to unload for the final time. She loved the new, green pasture, but was reluctant to spend the nights in the barn. She seemed to really prefer her camper. Every time we walked past it, she would stop and act like she was ready to go back in. Unfortunately, we had to convert it back to a human camper. We had camping trips planned and there were a lot more adventures to be had without horses. Soon, we added a black pony named Pie to the circus, and then Sasha’s sweet little filly was born- a darling black and white thing with the bluest eyes (named Samara, to stick with the Russian doll theme!) They were definitely worth all that trouble of carting them across the USA, and I will never forget the adventure!