Roughing It at the Ritz of RV Parks : Recreation: At Newport Dunes, where creature comforts are standard gear and Fashion Island is within hiking distance, RVers don’t camp, they go ‘motor homing.’

As Memorial Day weekend gets under way, a steady stream of massive motor coaches flows into Newport Dunes armed with their cellular phones, microwave ovens, televisions, VCRs and satellite dishes.

This is roughing it, Newport Beach style.

At Newport Dunes, a 100-acre, state-of-the-art recreational resort, it’s not uncommon to see motor coaches the size of school buses towing a Mercedes or a Jaguar instead of the customary off-road vehicle.

This weekend, the unofficial start of summer and one of the busiest times of year for the resort, each of the park’s 405 RV spaces will be filled with vacationers and their expensive toys.

From the park’s prime waterfront location just off Pacific Coast Highway overlooking Upper Newport Bay, vacationers can hike to Fashion Island, explore the tourist attractions on Balboa Island, catch a movie at a local multiplex theater or trek to Disneyland.

Some stay weeks and never cook a meal. They go out to dinner or have all of their meals catered by local restaurants.

“You can’t call this camping,” says Gene Hackett, who came to Newport Dunes from Apple Valley with his wife, Marcy. “We call it motor homing.”

Gene loves to show off his fully loaded 36-foot Hawkins Motor Coach. There’s a queen-size bed in back, but that’s not unusual. Some rigs have king-size mattresses. There are two televisions and a VCR, skylights and a cedar-lined closet. A shower and small tub occupy a surprisingly spacious bath.

“It’s like a one-bedroom apartment on wheels,” Marcy says.

The large, L-shaped kitchen has Corian counters, a coffee maker and a microwave. Gene opens one of the oak cabinets to show off racks of wine glasses and champagne flutes. No paper cups here. The glasses are ingeniously anchored in foam rubber.

“Everything must be color-coordinated,” Marcy says. Place mats, throw rugs, curtains, bedspread, pillows and coffee mugs are “blue, blue and blue.”

Their motor home comes with all kinds of gizmos: a TV monitor that allows them to watch for traffic behind the rig; curtains that open and shut with the push of a button, and an indoor thermostat that measures the temperature indoors and out.

“No self-respecting motor homer would go outside to see what the temperature is,” Marcy jokes.

A weird kind of subculture surrounds the rigs. There are hundreds of motor coach clubs that travel together from park to park. The dunes has welcomed members of the Road Turtles, Wheels of Faith, the Over-the-Hill Gang and the Kampin’ Kangaroos.

The clubs have their own peculiar hierarchy. They typically appoint a wagon master each month who oversees the group’s outing, tending to reservations and organizing potlucks and chili cook-offs.

Sally and Jim McClenaghan of Toluca Lake served as wagon masters for the HMC Club on a recent weekend at the dunes that attracted 35 of their more than 250 members. To belong to HMC, one must drive Hawkins Motor Coach--any other rig is considered an S.O.B.: “Some other brand,” Jim explains.

Upon pulling into the dunes, the McClenaghans immediately start unloading an impressive cache of liquor from the luggage compartment of their plush 31-foot RV. Inside the coach they’ve installed a small refrigerator that holds a full keg of beer.

“We’ve had people put in a two-stool bar” in their coach, Jim says. One member had a bar hookup in the kitchen that dispensed Scotch, bourbon and whiskey with the push of a lever. For many clubs, happy hour is the closest thing to an organized activity.

Like the Hacketts’ rig, the McClenaghan-mobile has all of the creature comforts, including two air conditioners, solar panels and a floor safe to hide valuables.

“We were tired of going places and pitching a tent on the asphalt,” Sally says. “This is the perfect way to go, and we meet people with the same interests.”

Many of those who travel in motor homes are retired and prefer the slow pace of the dunes. They pull into their designated space, set up lawn chairs, sip soda pop or beer under umbrellas and shoot the breeze with passers-by. Visitors walking along the row of coaches get frequent offers of cold drinks.

Bill Carbett of Valley Center, a member of the Escondido Roving Elks, brings a full-sized popcorn machine--the kind seen in movie theaters--and dispenses it in paper bags to passers-by.

“It keeps my friends happy,” Carbett says.

“Otherwise, we wouldn’t let him come,” adds John Mason, a fellow Elk.

Campers meet people from all over the country at Newport Dunes. In the winter, snowbirds come from the East to escape the cold. In summer, vacationers come from hot spots such as Arizona to seek relief in the dunes’ ocean breezes.

Word has spread that Newport Dunes has become the Ritz of RV parks since the park reopened July 4, 1989, after a $16-million renovation.

The dunes opened in 1958, and virtually the only feature remaining from the original park is a pair of 20-foot fiberglass whales. On sunny days, one of the whales can still be seen bobbing in the lagoon with a crowd of children clinging to its sides.

The land was originally leased by Col. Richard Bird of Dallas, but it was San Diego hotelier Bill Evans who recognized the park’s potential when he was introduced to the property in 1971. Evans methodically bought blocks of stock in the park as they became available. When he obtained a controlling interest in Newport Dunes, he laid the groundwork for the park’s redevelopment.

Evans died in 1984 before the work was completed. His wife, Anne, now serves as president of Evans Resorts, the park’s owner, and the Evans’ 27-year-old daughter, Annie, oversees the resort’s operations.

The Evans family hired Wimberly, Allison, Tong & Goo, the same architectural company that designed the Ritz-Carlton in Dana Point and the Four Seasons Hotel in Newport Beach, to design a new park from the ground up.

“The place was a disaster,” says Annie Evans. “It was 30 years old, so it was time to dress it up a bit.”

Dressing up meant adding a six-building Village Center that boasts a grocery store, cafe, recreation room with big-screen TV, swimming pool, spa, laundry facility and 4,500 square feet of conference space.

This July 4 the park will unveil Phase II, the make-over and expansion of its marina to 430 slips at a cost of $10 million. Phase III calls for construction of a $25-million resort hotel to begin in 1993.

With the completion of Phase I, motor coaches can now plug into 20, 30 or 50 amps of electrical power, enough juice to run their satellite dishes. Eventually the park will offer hookups for cable TV and telephones.

“This is one of the nicest RV parks,” says Marcy Hackett. “It’s immaculate, and it’s unusual to have the full hookup and be near the water.”

Although there’s a 28-day limit on stays, visitors get around the rule by changing spaces. Some stay as long as three months.

Fees range from $22 to $45 a day in winter and $25 to $50 a day in summer, with the highest rates going for the larger beachfront spaces.

Most motor home travelers prefer the autonomy of being able to move their home-on-wheels anywhere they please.

“You can camp in an area where you’re right next to a river and you’re fully self-contained,” says Jim McClenaghan. “You can go to a national park and park right next to a tree or bush and there are no neighbors.”

A different mentality prevails at an RV resort than at campgrounds.

“They want to be surrounded by their possessions. They want to bring along their favorite pillow,” Annie Evans says. Marcy Hackett, for instance, has a pair of stuffed mice resting on her bed.

Although hotel rooms also offer comfort, for Gene Hackett they bring up memories of too many business trips.

“I spent my career staying in motels and hotels. I came to detest them,” Gene says. “This way you’re totally independent.”

He doesn’t care that his huge rig might be hard to maneuver on the road or that it’s a slow-moving beast.

“I’d rather drive this for eight hours than a new car,” he insists. “You’re sitting up high and you don’t have to worry about anyone running over you.”