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A Scotty Story | What A Long Strange Trip Its Been

This is the tale of how Len Daddona of Morton, Pennsylvania obtained his 1966 13' Gaucho Scotty.

Years ago, in the early to mid-60's, I would go camping with my family: Mom, Dad, and my younger brother Al.

We never had a trailer, always a tent. My Aunt and Uncle and two cousins would accompany us at times, in a tent as well.

I always remember when walking around the campground, if you came across a Scotty, you would just stop and stare, followed by the sounds of ooooh and ahhhhhh.

It didn't take my Aunt and Uncle long to graduate to a trailer — and a Scotty at that! A 1966 Serro Scotty Sportsman (Gaucho). At last, I finally got a chance to see one up close and it was COOL.

My Uncle was Mr. Blood and Guts. Bought a big Plymouth with a big V8 engine. Equalizer bars, extended mirrors, little "springy" outlookers and NEVER towed the trailer over 45 MPH, as recommended by the Serro Scotty Company.

Well, after a few years, they traded that Scotty in to somebody and bought a 69-70 HiLander. Then, after a few years, something else. Then, something else, until his death in the late 70's.

Time goes on.

In the late 80's or early 90's, I met a guy that I'm still friends with today, who had an old Scotty Sportsman. He only used it once a year, for the Philadelphia Folk Music Festival. He never really took care of the trailer. When something would break, he would duct tape it back together. It was always dirty and always in disrepair.

In the mid-to-late 90's, I tried to buy it from him. He wouldn't sell. In fact, several times I tried to buy it from him but he wouldn't sell. It was sad watching that Scotty Sportsman literally melt over the years.

Finally, in the fall of 2008, I ran into him and he told me that a tree had fallen on the trailer and totalled it. He had stripped it down to the frame and wondered if I was interested in the remains.

I said yes and a deal was struck for a case of beer, and I got what as left of the Scotty — which wasn't much.

Shortly thereafter, I began, and completed, a total restoration. It didn't come with a title and I wanted to register it properly. One of the first things I wanted to do was a history check of the registration. But quietly. I had a friend on the police force do a check on the VIN. He traced it all the way back to its original owner.

My Uncle!

Absolutely amazing, I thought. I immediately contacted my two cousins.
Here they are with me, reunited with their Father's Scotty!

 

 

 

   
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Last updated: February 28, 2010
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