The beast of burden
It all started back in 1997 after I purchased a 1984 Fleetwood Southwind 27' Class A motor home. I thought I was really styling with that beast. In its defense, all of the RV related items on the coach all worked fine. I modernized and refurbished the interior making it really comfortable. The problem was... every time I went to use it, I ended up putting another $500+ dollars in to the automotive end of the unit. Little items like the exhaust manifold leak that the previous owner said was nothing more than a broken stud, ended up costing me $2000. (I checked with others with the same chassis and engine, and that was actually a good price!) Then the ignition switch fell out of the unit, and the only way I could start it was to reach underneath and hold the key cylinder while rotating the key. Dangerous, and very expensive to fix. The tube for the dip stick rotted off. Then there was rubber fuel fill hose that leaked and made the vehicle a rolling Molotov Cocktail. Talk about white knuckle driving! Well, the tank had to be dropped so the hose could be replaced. Big bucks again. Oh, and then the brakes failed, the battery and voltage regulators went, the lights worked intermittently, the in dash AC didn't work, a windshield wiper stopped working, and... on and on and on. So, I sold it. It actually sold fairly quickly, and I believe I broke even on the whole deal if you figure in the amount of times I used it and what it would have cost for hotel rooms or to rent an RV. OK, I'm rationalizing and trying to justify my expenses. I'm allowed. This was my nightmare, end of that story.
I realized that I didn't want the expense of another motorized vehicle in my life and knew that I really wanted to have an RV of some sort. So I figured that a travel trailer would be cool. I could tow it, park it, and not have to worry about it not starting... or worse! I of course knew that there were still maintenance responsibilities, but they would not be nearly as costly as automotive repairs and insurance.
I started researching used travel trailers of all types on the internet, and occasionally stumbled on to an Airstream. All of the Airstreams I looked at seemed to have a completely different appeal to them then what us millionaire Airstream owners now call SOB's (Some Other Brand). Maybe it was the aluminum exterior, or the rounded styling, hatch type windows, loads of rivets, or just the fact that they are so damn cool looking. I knew this was my destiny. I could feel the aluminum starting to flow in my veins, and the cash leave my pockets. I was hooked on aluminum.
I knew that a brand new Airstream wasn't in my future, and being a DIY kind of guy, I started looking for older units. I quickly discovered that a lot of other people were in the market for older Airstreams also, because every time I called an ad in the newspaper about one, it was sold within the first 5 minutes. After a few weeks of actually trying to go and see one, I found a 31 footer that I actually got to see the inside of. It was hideous... but had great potential. The aluminum hook was set even deeper now. I decided that 31 feet was way too big for my needs, and it's size was actually intimidating. After more research, I concluded that something in the 22 to 27 foot range was more manageable for me to tow, and to park in my back yard for modernization. I hadn't considered my neighbors feelings on this matter, but since I don't live in a deed restricted neighborhood, there was nothing anyone could say. At this point I still had no Airstream to show for my efforts.
Weeks of calling about Airstreams in the paper were all fruitless. SOLD before I could even get there to look at it. On a few occasions, I even did a reverse lookup on the phone numbers so I could find out where they were located. I did many a drive by just to see them up close. I was now an aluminum stalker and was considering psychiatric counseling. I had to find one of these elusive aluminum beasts that I could call my own. Sellers were now obtaining restraining orders to keep me off their property. OK, I exaggerated... a bit. Update on the counseling: Still severely affected by aluminum. Incurable addiction bordering on delusional fantasies of actually locating and owning one.
Then one fateful day an ad appeared in the local paper for an old aluminum travel trailer. I called, and sure enough it was an Airstream. The person I talked to didn't know anything about it, as he was just handling the transaction for the owner who had to go back to New York for some reason. I asked about coming to take a look at it, and he said he had 15 people lined up by appointment to see it. Damn! This one too would be SOLD before I could even get to see it. With my aluminum tail between my legs, I wrote this one off. The search continued. A week later, I see the same ad for the same trailer in the paper. I call again, and the same guy tells me that he had a buyer, but it fell through. I asked (begged) if I could come look at it, and after 10 minutes of trying to arrange a time when he could be there, we finally came to a mutually agreeable time. In the next hour! I grabbed my two teenagers and threw them in the Suburban and screamed ROAD TRIP! Fortunately, they know that I am a lunatic, so there was no problem. The trailer was about 40+ miles North of here, so I had to make time. I took my digital camera for recording the events, and a few tools just in case I needed to actually test something. In record time, we arrived in the neighborhood where my future trailer was sitting... overhanging the sidewalk, surrounded by old water heaters, stoves, garbage, boat motors, dilapidated wheel barrows, and other signs of human decay in to the lower regions of society. That, and the fact that there were abandoned homes without doors or windows had me insisting my kids stay in the truck... with the doors locked. As luck would have it, the guy that was supposed to meet me there had not yet arrived. This gave me an opportunity to wander around the trailer, check out what I could from the outside, and snap a few pictures without anyone watching me. My first reactions to the trailer were that it was a total piece of junk... but had potential. Kind of the same thing when people look at Manatees and think they are beautiful, but really have the face only a mother could love. Keep in mind that I hadn't seen the inside of the trailer yet. The tires were almost rotted off the trailer. The tongue was rusty. One propane tank was missing, and once I opened the door to the water heater, I realized that it was rusted out completely. There were some minor dents and one small tare in the skin. Other than that, it was BEAUTIFUL!!!!
Just after I did my initial exterior inspection, Bubba and Billy Joe arrived. Driving with open beers camouflaged in brown paper bags. They were nice guys, and even offered me a cold one. I passed, because I had more important work to do than to cloud my already clouded judgment on this trailer. They unlocked the deadbolt on the door, and out came that familiar smell of times gone by... I mean times gone bad. Musty, nasty, and skuzzy basically describes the interior where cleanliness is concerned. Structurally, all the cabinetry was in pretty good shape except for the tambour on the kitchen base cabinets. No big deal to me, because I knew I was going to redo it anyway. The trailer was plugged in to an outlet on the house, so we fired up the AC... which miraculously started to get cold. YIPPEE!! One working appliance! So, after walking through the trailer and checking out what little I knew about Airstreams at that point in my search, I asked the guys again, "What are you asking for it?" They said $3200 firm is what the owner wanted. With one hand in my pocket, my shades on, head cocked just slightly down, and attempting to look knowledgeable about trailers (Airstreams specifically), I pointed out all the obvious things wrong with it in an effort to make the price I was going to offer them sound realistic. Well, at least to me it did. I told them I wouldn't go anymore than $1500 based on it's current condition. I didn't hear any laughs, but just the comments that they have 15 other people coming to look at it, and it will be gone for the money they are asking. I was OK with that. As much as I really wanted a trailer, I didn't want to go that high for something that I knew really needed a lot of work. I would have probably gone to $2000 if my offer had spawned any negotiations. I thanked the dudes for their time, and gave them my cell phone number if they changed their minds. All this time my kids were well insulated from the proceedings safely locked in the truck, and were doing what siblings do. Taunting each other.
I hopped back in the truck and we drove home. My kids still fighting, and me daydreaming of how nice I could make that $3200 piece of aluminum rolling junk, and whether I should have just bought it at their price and saved myself the angst of searching for another one. Oh, the tangled web of indecision that fills my head! I finally put that trailer out of my mind. Surely there would be other ones out there for me to stress over.
A few weeks go by, and I haven't found one trailer to look at that was local to me. My desperation for aluminum is building. Fortunately, I was working in the aluminum extrusion industry at the time, and could get my fix just by walking out in the warehouse. There were no rivets though. Early one Friday morning, my cell phone rings. It is a woman asking me if I was the one that came to look at her Airstream. I wasn't sure who she was, because I had never gone to look at an Airstream where a woman was involved. She goes on to explain that two of her friends had been showing it for her while she was in New York. Then I remembered. She asked me if I was still interested in it, and if I was still willing to give her $1500 for it. I tried not to show my jubilation at the question, and gave her a calm, but definite, YES! The caveat was that I had to get it off of her property the next morning (Saturday) since she was getting fined by Code Enforcement $200 per day for it overhanging the sidewalk. I told her that no matter what, it would be out of there... and that I would bring cash, and she should have the bill of sale. The race is on, the psychosis and financial drain begins.
I immediately recruit a buddy of mine at work to follow me up there in his truck to act as a spotter. I have no clue if the lights or anything works, so it will be good to have him following close behind me. I also have no time to plan to do this the proper and safe way. At this point I had no brake controller in my truck, nor did I know if the cable for the trailer was even functional. I was going to pick up my Airstream, and live on the edge!
Saturday morning, June 9, 2001, I load every tool that I own in to the back of my Suburban. I remembered to bring my pancacke compressor with my air chuck for filling the tires... and hoping they would hold air. All I know is that I had to get it off of her property. What happened from there was the unknown. My friend Bryan meets up with me on the highway, and we are off. We arrived before 9am, and I met with the woman to do the paper work on the trailer and make the big money exchange. It turns out that it was kind of a sad set of circumstances that led to her selling the trailer. She and her husband had purchased it four months earlier, and were going to do some fixing up of the trailer to make it roadworthy, as they were going to travel. He ended up dying of cancer before they got started with their plans. The really scary part was that he was the same age as me. Fortunately, the subject turned to Airstream related things, and I readied the trailer for rolling. The first step was to put air in the tires... that were so dried and cracked that I was certain we wouldn't get the trailer off of her property. Much to our surprise, all four pumped up, and only one was hissing. She then gave me the ball she had from her hitch, the extra propane tank that was not attached to the trailer, and all the other paraphernalia that she had related to the Airstream experience. The umbilical chord was frayed and cracked, which meant no lights, and I knew we wouldn't have brakes. My knuckles were getting white just thinking about this ride home!
After everything was hooked up, Bryan and I walked around the trailer 17 times to make sure nothing was going to fall off, and then WE were off. Bryan followed close behind and used my hand held Cobra CB, and I had my dash mounted CB in my truck. Fortunately, it was still early on Saturday morning, and we only had about seven or eight miles of local roads with lights and McDonalds at every corner to pass through before we hit the super highway. I stayed to the right and kept the speedometer at about 25, with my fingers crossed on the steering wheel.
It wasn't long before we were on the interstate, and Bryan's reports were all good. "Breaker 19 Radio Check. 10-4. Everything is still in place, and there is very little debris falling off. Roger, over and out good buddy." We continued down the highway, and although the trailer was teetering on only three wheels with air, the trailer seemed to pull perfectly smooth. Hence the mystique of the Airstream design, sleek aerodynamics, and monocoque construction. Just a few of the fun concepts I have learned in the last four years about Airstreams. Oh, and that we are all millionaires... or certainly need to be, and you probably need new axles.
Well, sorry to say that the ride home was totally uneventful. Nothing fell off. No loud screeches or bangs. No windows falling out on the highway. Yes, I was disappointed too. We got off the highway, rounded a few more turns until we came to my neighborhood. I pulled down my street and stopped in front of my house. I had no experience towing a trailer prior to this event, and even less (none at all) experience backing one in to a narrow space. Well, narrow by my standards. So I let Bryan back it in. Bingo! First shot, right in place. The rest of the history of my trailer is loosely documented in pictures throughout my web page. Looking back on the 3-/12 years that I have been tinkering with it, I can't believe how much I have actually accomplished. Certainly my chest is puffed out, and head is swollen with pride when I look at what I have done. The really good part is, that after almost 4 years, and $900 (times ten of course) later, I have a practically brand new trailer, that I know every inch of, and that is done the way I want it. Sure, I could spend $60,000 on a new one, but it would be someone else's interior design. Enjoy! Your thoughts and comments are always welcome. Just send me an email.
Home / Kitchen / Bathroom / Bedroom / Living Room / Axles + wheels / Rear end repair
Spare Tire Carrier / Air Conditioner Installation / Flooring / Water Heater / Dehumidifier
Exhaust fan / Frame and Belly Skin work / Rock Guard / Hitch / Dump Valve / IntelliPower
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