Before that, though, let’s just go over one more time why the original GMC Motorhome was such a big deal. Other than perhaps Volkswagen with its Westfalia-camperified Type 2 Microbuses, no major automaker was selling its own, in-house-designed RVs or motorhomes, certainly not ones built on a purpose-built chassis. But that’s exactly what GM did. The state of RV design in the early 1970s was crude, even the good ones like Winnebagos: corrugated metal, pink insulation, boxy, curve-less designs on heavy chassis. They were charming, but crude as hell.
GM took a clean-sheet approach, and attempted to make something that was better than driving a giant shed, and at least attempted some degree of aerodynamics. The company took its tidy front-wheel drive V8 powertrain from the Oldsmobile Toronado and Cadillac Eldorado and plopped it down in a bespoke chassis with a nice low floor, no driveshaft, and plenty of room for fuel, fresh water, and disgusting water tanks, and then dropped on that an extruded aluminum frame covered with fiberglass and aluminum body panels.
The rear had twin axles with independent air suspension, and the result was something roomy and comfortable and not horrible to drive. Ads of the era emphasized this a lot:
When GM engineers really put their collective minds to something, they can do amazing things, even if they often screw them up later. The Motorhome was an example of this, with GM developing what was arguably the finest commercially-available vehicle that you could drive, sleep, and shit in. Also, you may remember the GMC Motorhome played a role in the 1981 Bill Murray/Harold Ramis army-comedy Stripes as a fictional Urban Assault Vehicle:
Anyway, all of this is to say that the GMC Motorhome was a remarkable RV milestone, and yet it only lasted five years, from 1973 to 1978. The discontinuation of the Toronado and its V8 FWD drivetrain was a factor, as was the fuel crisis. The story in our stupid reality ends there. But, now we dive into the gooey depths of the Bishop-brain, where we discover that, holy crap, GM resurrected the Motorhome project in the late 1980s, and had an all-new GMC Motorhome by 1987! Here’s what it (could have) looked like:
Hot damn. I bet the first thing you’re noticing is that, like the original 1973 Motorhome, this is a three-axle design, only here the twin axles are up front. What the hell? Well, there’s actually a reason for this, and it’s not unheard of: The British Bedford VAL bus used such a layout, as well as some Mack and GMC tractor trailers.
This layout is referred to as the “Chinese Six” layout, and while I was afraid the origin of that term might be overtly racist, it seems to just be because it’s reversed from the expected, in the sense that China was thought of as being on the other side of the world, or whatever. I hope it’s not racist, at least. Here’s how The Bishop explains the logic behind the double front axles: So, with all those axles up front, where is the engine going to go? Well, in 1987’s Motorhome, that’s reversed, too, and even weirder, in some ways: Yes, twin engines! Two V6s are pushing this thing. I suspect that these V6s, normally used in a transverse configuration in other cars, could use existing transverse transaxles, with the inner axle shafts of each engine connected together? This could allow for dynamic engine de-activation to save fuel on highway trips, maybe? Anyway, here’s a diagram:
Let’s look carefully at this cutaway, because it’s full of great ideas. The radiators are mounted in pods on each side, and flanked by slide-out cargo trays/drawers, though I do wonder if the Bishop may need to sacrifice some of that storage for water tanks? Maybe not. The hump created by the engines is well-hidden under the big double bed at the rear, and, for an RV, there’s a remarkably large front passenger compartment. As The Bishop explains: I mean, when I crossed the country with my family in an old RV, one of the best parts (for them) was sitting in the living-room-like environment of the RV, but, sure, that’s not really all that safe, so I get this. The Bishop has really thought through the potential of this front cab-like section, and with proper Captain’s Chairs-type of seating, this can be a true multi-purpose area:
Lots of clever swiveling and folding going on here, which is what we all want to see most in fictional RV designs, right? It’s great. The Bishop was also inspired by 1980s GM’s affinity for dashboard CRT displays, as seen in the Buick Riviera, so he’s specified a dashboard for the Motorhome absolutely slathered in cathode ray tubes:
Now, rear-view camera systems in RVs that used little black-and-white CRTs were a thing for a while, so that part isn’t terribly unusual, but a multiple CRT-instrument cluster is exotic, with the only car I can think of that used such a setup being an Aston Martin Lagonda. Still, with GM’s experience in mass-producing automotive CRT displays in its Buicks, I don’t see why the company couldn’t have pulled this off. If there’s one thing The Bishop understands, it’s that the work he does for us here is fundamentally entertainment, and you’ve got to have some crowd-pleasers in there. That’s why this is part of his ’87 GMC Motorhome design:
Oh, and The Bishop knows he needs to please me, too, so we get this detail as well: Nice. It’s a shame GMC got out of the motorhome business, because they had such a fantastic start, and, as The Bishop’s alternate reality makes pretty plain here, they could have pushed it so much further. Today’s motorhomes aren’t particularly sleek or advanced or clever, at least not at the levels that most humans can afford, which makes me think there’s still an unfilled hole GM could fill, if they wanted. But I’m not going to hold my breath. Best to just live in the fantasy world crafted by the fertile mind and pen of our own Bishop of Fictional Vehicles. Anyway, my family were this close in hiring the GMC Motorhome for our first American road trip with RV in 1977. The hire cost was too high for my father’s liking so he took cheaper and slightly shorter Pace Arrow. “Penny wise, pound foolish” would be the slogan here. The aerodynamically inefficient Pace Arrow consumed much more fuel than GMC Motorhome would. My father ended up paying way more for the fuel, negating the initial cost saving. The family of my classmate’s had one, and I rode in it a several times on the shorter road trips through Texas. It was the most comfortable RV: almost like riding Citroën CX. I’d argue it’s the best full size motorhome ever mass produced.
