Airstream Safari Antics

1962 Airstream Safari, freshly shined on front 

A friend of mine just clued me into a fantastic bumper sticker:  "Nobody cares that you telemark."

I'm certain that that same string of logic applies to Airstreams for most people.  Indeed, if it existed, I'd put a sticker to that effect on my trailer, just for the sake of irony.  But, being both a Telemarker and an Airstreamer, I know better.............those who do either, care very much.  Those who do both..........well, more on that later.

But, I'm not one of those Purists of either pursuit.  I despise zealotry, traditionalism, and most forms of fundamentalism.  When I get tired, my turns revert to alpine style.  When bits of my ancient Airstream give out, I fix them with modern parts, not exact stock originals.

But, make no mistake, I do care passionately about that with which I'm involved.  It isn't the form necessarily, but the function.  I telemark because it's the finest style of skiing with the most noble history and I run an Airstream because they are the best of the travel trailers, with the richest culture.

The telemark season is over for me now, so this blog is dedicated to running amok in our Airstream trailer during the Spring/Summer  '09 proper.  Maybe after the snow starts falling again on North America, I'll assault the masses with some missives on skiing.

Until then though, this blog will be about rendering a vintage trailer serviceable and livable again and what one might find out there on the road after that work is complete.

Dinette before renovation

Dinette after renovation

This whole Airstream thing started with a boyhood dream of my father.  

As a youngster in the 50's, he concluded, "Once you can buy an Airstream trailer, you have arrived."  This string of thought he passed onto my wife with the following succinct statement, "You absolutely must get an Airstream for your home office.  Here, look at some of these pictures..."  Shortly after that we went on an intense, yet brief, pilgrimage to the American Southwest in search of one for ourselves.  Just mere hours after arriving in Flagstaff AZ, we miraculously located a 1962 Safari model parked lonesome and abandoned behind a construction company's office.  It's owner was a house framer named "Sully" who was working in Phoenix.  Fortunately for us, he was a bit of a hard-luck case and happened to need cash more than he needed the trailer.  He sold it for $1500...knowing full well that he could get much more for it, were he not so "motivated".  We made multiple trips to the ATM over several days, and paid him in twenty dollar bills.

We took it home and my beautiful and gracious mother went to work on it.  She rehung the curtains, yanked the periwinkle carpet, and scrubbed all of the hanta-virus out of each nook and cranny.  After plugging everything in and flipping all of the switches, we discovered that most all of the systems were deficient in some manner.  The water pipes had frozen and burst, the refrigerator wouldn't cool above 55 degrees, the oven wouldn't stay lit, the heater pilot wouldn't fire, and the 12 volt system had been dismantled and wires snipped out of it randomly and completely caddy-whampus-like.  If that wasn't enough, though, we still hauled it around the country, living like filthy savages in this silver shell of a trailer until finally the old single-axle seized and the left wheel came off in the Virgin River Gorge halfway between Mesquite NV and St. George UT.  That sure enough is a sobering sight:  watching a wheel of your trailer roll past the driver side door of your tow vehicle down the highway.

Virgin River Gorge, broken axle 

Bedroom before renovation

Bedroom and library after renovation

Since then, we've gotten serious......We've decided that our trailer is to become our full-time home and regardless of her deficiencies, we are going to make her a glorious part of our family.

That decision was an easy one, but the follow-through on this promise has been the tough part...and ultimately the impetus for this blog.  Making an antiquated, decrepit trailer livable again is no less than a chore.  You can quite easily get distracted from your mission. I mean, what is a recreational vehicle for?  Is it to go out and recreate in, or is it to toil in, under, and on...... week after week, pursuing some sort of ultimate historical perfection that very well may not exist?

Pinto Pony Crazy Horse Kitty, AKA Cara de Negro, in the bathroom above

Chief Ouray Kitty, AKA Cara de Leche below

There are three types of Airstream renovators that I've found thus far.  An elite few just tear all of the guts out and start afresh.  These are the "designers" and "innovators" and the other well-educated esoterics among us who have the means and resources to create a whole new environment:  a trouble-free, hypoallergenic, zen garden, chakra aligning masterpiece.  They are featured in a few books and design trade journals and generally receive accolades and adoration from colleagues and peers alike.  Others, are the Restorers.  These well intentioned folks wind themselves up like tops and then spin wildly out of control attempting to recreate their trailer to the exacting standards of the factory from whence they were conceived.  Generally these people spend more time working on their trailers than traveling in them.  Finally, there are those Airstreamers like myself who are the cheap, foolishly optimistic,  arm-chair tinkerers, trying desperately to refurbish or at least cobble together each existing system as necessary, if only for the sake of not having to go out and  buy a whole new piece.  We usually would have been better off paying a professional technician to solve our issues.

All of those methods have their merits, I guess, but I'll be focusing on the purely functional aspects of creating a trailer that you can live in full time, without spending huge amounts of dough.  

Also, the general maintenance and repairs will be performed while on the road under real world (and sometimes seemingly out of this world) conditions.  My wife and I will be crossing into Mexico very soon with our trailer, one dog, and two cats.  With all that is going on there presently, this ought to prove to be interesting reading.

Artwork for lamp by Connie Clark

By no means am I an authority on RVing and/or its associated repairs.  

However, I can turn a wrench, so I'll share with you what happened to us and what I did to remedy it.  I solicit from you any and all relevant experiences, for the betterment of ourselves and our trailers.

17th Street "Airstream Quilt" crafted by Sally Deford- 

One of our many lovely and talented friends, Thank You!!!

This blog will soon have associated with it a sort of "technical" sister page where I will chronicle the nuts and bolts bits I've dealt with and am soon undoubtedly going to deal with. 

Please peruse it and take what you need and leave information for me as well as you see fit.

Na Graucho!!

Turkeydawg