Colleen Sinclair's Last Camper Van Weekenders
“Fifty years of looking down at a needle. My neck won’t do it any more.” — Colleen (74) is selling her last hand-quilted camper van bags at a special price. When the shelves are empty, that’s the end of them.
22 October 2026
Colleen Sinclair is seventy-four. For forty-two years she has made the same bag by hand, in an old apple-packing shed on Salt Spring Island, BC. Every one has a painted camper van sewn on the front — a real van that once stopped for her on the side of the highway. Now she has to stop. What’s left on her shelves is the last of the Hippie Bus Weekender.
“My hands are fine. It’s my neck that’s finished.”
Colleen’s workshop is the old packing shed at the bottom of an orchard. The walls are cedar. There’s a wood stove in the corner. She cuts her fabric on the long wooden table where apples used to be sorted.
At the back are the shelves of finished bags. Some shelves are already half empty.
“Look — my hands are fine. My eyes are fine too. It’s my neck.”
Every bag is quilted by hand in a wooden hoop. That means sitting with your head bent down for hours. Colleen has done it every day for over fifty years.
In 2023 her neck started to lock up after half an hour at the hoop. Her doctor in Ganges sent her for X-rays. The discs in her neck are worn flat. It won’t get better.
“I can manage two hours a day now,” she says. “One bag needs eleven. You can do that sum yourself.”
Twenty-three rides, one notebook, and five vans she never forgot
Why is there a camper van on every bag? The answer starts in the summer of 1971.
Colleen was nineteen and had just finished high school in North Bay, Ontario. That summer, thousands of young Canadians hitchhiked west on the Trans-Canada Highway. Colleen and her friend Patti went too. She had forty dollars and a school notebook.
In the notebook she wrote down every ride. The town, the date, who stopped, what they drove. By the time she reached the Pacific there were twenty-three rides in it.
“Seven of them were painted vans. In 1971, if somebody had painted their van, they stopped for you.”
The last ride came at the ferry dock on Salt Spring Island. A woman named Agnes Purdy pulled up with a trailer painted all over with pink cherry blossoms. She needed apple pickers. Colleen got in — and never left the island.
That winter, Agnes taught her to quilt at the kitchen table, the way women did it on the Saskatchewan farms in the 1930s. The rule was ten stitches to the inch. Any fewer, and Agnes made her take them out.
“She never once said my work was good,” Colleen says. “She said it would hold.”
In 1984, Colleen needed a bag for a trip home to North Bay. She quilted one, opened her notebook, and sewed one of the vans from that summer on the front. A woman on the ferry asked to buy it before they reached the other side.
Since then, Colleen has made 5,400 of these bags. All by hand. No two exactly the same.
What makes Colleen’s bags different
Pick one up and you feel it straight away. It’s solid, but soft. The pictures aren’t printed on. They are layers of real fabric, cut and sewn on by hand.
“I never trace it and I never use a computer,” Colleen says. “Sometimes a wheel comes out a bit bigger. That’s how you know a person made it.”
Here’s what you get:
Ten stitches to the inch. The whole bag is quilted by hand, the way Agnes taught her. That tight stitching keeps the bag in shape for decades, even when it’s packed full.
A real van from 1971. Every design is a van that stopped for Colleen that summer. Cut out and sewn on piece by piece — never printed.
Handles that don’t dig in. Padded all the way along, not just in the middle. Comfortable on the long walk from the car to the ferry.
Just the right size. 18 × 9 × 10 inches (45 × 23 × 25 cm), about 22 litres, under 2 pounds. A weekend of clothes. Fits as a carry-on on most domestic flights and lies flat in the trunk.
Inside every bag is a small tag with a number on it, written by hand. Colleen enters each one in a ledger she started in 1984. The last number will be 5,400.
View Remaining StockCheck availability →
“One of mine has been to Jasper every summer for thirty years”
What Colleen is proudest of is how long her bags last.
“A nurse from Edmonton bought one in 1996,” she says. “She takes it to Jasper every summer. Thirty years. It’s needed one new zipper pull. That’s all.”
A few years ago, a woman from Kingston drove the whole Trans-Canada with her bag on the passenger seat. She sent Colleen a postcard from Wawa — the town where Colleen waited two days for a ride in 1971.
“Dear Colleen — stopped at Wawa today. Nobody needed a ride. Thought of you.”
— Wawa, Ontario, 2019
Colleen keeps it pinned above her cutting table.
Five designs, five rides — which one is yours?
Colleen didn’t make the designs up. Each one comes from a page in her notebook:
Flower Power Caravan — Wawa, Ontario. Two sisters from Montreal, after two days of waiting.
Sunset Strummer — Swift Current, Saskatchewan. A boy in the back played guitar while the sun went down over the wheat.
Stay Wild Forest — Rogers Pass, BC. Two tree planters, with STAY WILD painted on the side by hand.
Coastal Surfer Camper — the Fraser Canyon. Two surfers with boards on the roof. They drove her all the way to the ferry.
Cherry Blossom Glamping — Salt Spring Island. Agnes Purdy’s trailer. The last ride, and the one that changed her life.
“People ask which one is my favourite,” Colleen says. “I tell them it’s the last one. That ride never ended.”
The last batch — and why there won’t be another
For thirty-eight years, Colleen never had a store. She hung her bags on hooks inside the shed door, with a price card and a cash tin. On Salt Spring, that’s how people sell eggs, apples and honey. Hers was the stand with the bags.
“In thirty-eight years the tin came up short four times. Twice the money turned up in my mailbox the next week.”
In 2023, after the X-rays, she closed the stand. Then she made one last decision. She used the time her neck had left to make one final batch, all at once. That’s what is on the shelves now.
There won’t be any more. Her daughter is a teacher. Her grandson can’t sew on a button, and says so himself.
“Agnes stopped when her hands told her to. I’d rather stop with a full shelf than halfway through a bag.”
Final collection →
What buyers say about the Hippie Bus Weekender
Linda K., 61, Guelph, ON
“People stop me about it. Twice at the gas station, once in the lineup for the ferry. It’s the only bag I’ve owned that people want to touch.”
Marlene D., 66, Red Deer, AB
“I bought it because it looked so cheerful. What surprised me was how well it’s made. Every stitch is where it should be.”
Joanie B., 58, Antigonish, NS
“I picked the Sunset Strummer because my husband played guitar on our first road trip. It’s been to the cottage every long weekend since June.”
Where can you buy Colleen’s bags?
The bags are sold through Craft Folk. Colleen’s grandson Rory, who is twenty-seven and works on the ferries, set it up for her.
“Rory does all of it,” Colleen says. “Every Sunday he comes over on the boat, packs the orders on my table and takes them to the post office in Ganges. I just sew.”
One warning: copies of these bags have started to show up on big online marketplaces. They may look similar in photos. But they aren’t made by Colleen, and they don’t have her numbered tag inside.
When the last one goes, that’s it
Since the special price started, the bags are going faster than Rory expected.
UPDATE:
“We’ve shipped more this week than in the whole of last month. There’s no restock. When the shelves are empty, that’s the end.”
— Rory Sinclair, Craft Folk
Final collection →
Common questions
Where can I get one?
Only through Craft Folk, the shop Rory runs for his grandmother. Not on Amazon, and not in any store.
How long will they be available?
Until this last batch is gone. There won’t be another one.
Can I try one without any risk?
Yes. There’s a 90-day money-back guarantee, no questions asked. If it isn’t right, email info@craft-folk.com and send it back.
How do I look after it?
Wipe it with cool water and a little mild soap. Let it dry flat, out of the sun. Don’t put it in the washing machine. Looked after like this, it will last for many years.
The bottom line
Every van on these bags really stopped for someone.
In 1971, five painted vans picked up a nineteen-year-old girl on the Trans-Canada. She wrote each one down. For forty-two years she has sewn them onto her bags by hand — because she never forgot who stopped.
You get a bag that’s made to last. And you get a piece of one woman’s life’s work — ready for your next weekend away.
Thank you, Colleen.
Colleen’s personal 90-day money-back guarantee
Colleen asked for one thing: a 90-day money-back guarantee, no questions asked.
“I want them used, not kept in a closet,” she says. “If it’s not for you, send it back. Somebody stopped for me five times. I just want these out on the road.”
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What people are saying online
Barb H., Kelowna, BC
“We were on Salt Spring last summer and walked down to her shed. Fabric everywhere, bags up to the rafters. I bought two — one for me, one for my sister’s sixtieth.”
Carole M., Peterborough, ON
“I gave one to my daughter for Christmas and she hasn’t let go of it since. Now I need one for myself.”
Donna-Lee F., Saskatoon, SK
“Finally a weekend bag that doesn’t look like it came from the mall. Three years old, nine trips, still looks new. If you can still get one, get one.”
The last of Colleen’s bags →