We launched Alumafandango last week and I was pleasantly surprised by the response.  In the first week we signed up 11 trailers, which is impressive for a new event, especially since we have very little information up on the website yet.  People seem to be signing up for it on the strength of the reputation of Alumapalooza, which is nice but it also makes me more acutely aware that we’ve got to put on something really exceptional.

And so I spent much of the week anxiously trying to organize the details of Alumafandango.  We want everyone to be completely mesmerized by the experience, to the point that (like our other events) there’s never any desire to leave the grounds to find something else to do.  That’s a tall order.  I expect Brett & I will be busy programming the event for the next few months, even while we are finalizing details for Alumapalooza 2012 in Ohio.

Meanwhile we are nearly done recruiting for the Modernism Week “Vintage Trailer Show” in Palm Springs.  We have 20 trailers signed up and they are all really cool.  The leader of the show will likely be Randy Grubb’s “Decoliner,” which is technically neither trailer nor motorhome, but so exceptional that we felt it should be in the show anyway.  We’ve also got a rare 1965 Dethleffs Bedouin, 1954 Hille Ranger Pop-Up, 1946 Curtis Wright, 1964 Traveleze, 1954 Silver Streak Clipper, and the following Airstreams:

• 1972 Airstream Ambassador
• 1957 Airstream Safari
• 1973 Airstream Safari
• 1965 Airstream Safari
• 1960 Airstream Caravel
• 1959 Airstream Globetrotter
• 1959 Airstream Traveler
• 1968 Airstream Ambassador
• 2008 Airstream Custom by Timeless Travel Trailers
• 1969 Airstream Caravel
• 2012 Airstream Sterling Concept
• 1967 Airstream Overlander
• 1963 Airstream Bambi

At this point we have just one space left in the show, which will probably get snapped up in the next week or so.   We’re expecting some special guests to join us, including vintage trailer restoration specialists Mike Keenan of M.E.L. Trailers, David Winick, and Uwe Salwender of Area 63 Productions.

We really do like organizing these shows, but we’ve got to stick to the core business of running Airstream Life and our own events (AFD/APZ), so this will be the last year Brett & I are involved in curating the Modernism Week show.  We’ll hand the reins over to someone else once this show is done, and hopefully it will continue growing as a special event. I’ll probably still come out to Palm Springs in future years just to attend and see what’s on display, as it is a unique chance to see some of the best vintage trailers in the west.

I’ve been down in the trenches lately, working hard to try to pull off a few long-term projects.  The Spring 2012 issue of Airstream Life finally got off to the printer too, but neither of these things are responsible for the lack of blog posts lately.  The real cause has been that I hate to say anything about the stuff I’m working on until I know it’s real.

But Friday night, after some intense negotiations and late-night conference calls, Brett and I finally resolved the last remaining issues for a major project.  And that makes it possible to announce “Alumafandango,” our new event to be held in Denver CO this coming August, 2012.

We’ve been working on this for about a year.  For a long time we’ve been hearing from people out west that they’d like something like Alumapalooza.  We looked at potential sites in Palm Springs, northern Arizona, Texas, and Colorado, but we kept running into barriers that made it impossible to hold the kind of event we wanted.  Finally, we found Lakeside Amusement Park in Denver, and started actively working on a deal with the park ownership so that we could camp right in the park next to the lake and the old-school rides.

This wasn’t easy at all.  The area we wanted to camp in was overrun with bushes, littered with decades of debris, and overshadowed by an abandoned race stadium and a half dozen decrepit mobile homes.  The park owners agreed to clean up the area, install water and power stands, and level & seed the ground so that it would be transformed into a nice place to camp for a few days.  This work started last fall and has been ongoing through the winter.  It probably won’t be done for a few months, but when it is, it will be a unique opportunity to camp where no one has camped before—and that’s one of the keys we were seeking.

Timeless Travel Trailers (Wheat Ridge, CO) has been instrumental in helping us put this deal together.  They will be the key sponsor, and as part of the event they are planning to provide on-site service and tours of their workshop.  They’re also supplying the fencing, water, and electrical infrastructure.  Our plan is to make this an annual event if it turns out to be popular, so we are all looking to the long term.  Obviously all of this investment in the site wouldn’t make sense for just one year.

Brad Cornelius designed the new logo, which you can see above.  A version of this will appear on the t-shirts, too.

Our goal is to have something just as fun as Alumapalooza, but not the same.  So we are looking for all new seminars and presenters, new entertainment, and different games.  That way you can go to both “APZ” and “AFD” and have a great time at both without feeling deja vu.

We selected the headline entertainment with the intent of carrying over the “carnival” theme, and we’re very excited to have the Lucky Daredevil Thrillshow featuring Tyler Fyre and Thrill Kill Jill for two nights of performances. They’re Airstreamers, of course.

We’ve also secured a night of free unlimited rides for all participants.  The classic rides at Lakeside are really fun.  You’ll remember most of them, and want to ride them all.  My favorite is the old-school wooden roller coaster.  It’s just fantastic excitement packed in a 1-minute ride.

Registration for Alumafandango opened on Sunday and already the first three trailers are signed up, which is encouraging.  We think we can accommodate 150 trailers on site, maybe more, but it won’t be clear until the site work is complete.

Of course, now that we’ve pulled the trigger I’m wondering nervously if we’ll be able to get 100+ trailers signed up in six months.  Right now the website doesn’t have much detail about what we are planning, but hopefully the reputation of Alumapalooza will carry over, and people will know that we guarantee a great time.  (We’ll get more detail up on the Alumafandango website as the plans begin to firm up.)  We’re working on a “vintage showcase,” some interesting tours, lots of seminars, and a pretty radical trailer makeover demonstration that happens in five days while you watch, among many other things.

So for the past week I’ve been tap-tap-tapping at the keyboard and relentlessly thinking about the future. This is the winter and in the winter it always seems that I have too little to physically do but too much to think about.  There are so many interesting plans to execute.  “What’s next?” is the question on my mind when I wake up, because for me, ’tis the season to get things done in preparation for an even more interesting 2012.

It has always been this way for me during the winter.  In the past it was easy to get bogged down in the minutiae and the winter doldrums, but since 2003 when we began Airstreaming I have not had that issue.  Wally Byam was right when he outlined the Four Freedoms that result from Airstream ownership, one of which was “the freedom to relax and lose oneself mentally.”  For me, the Airstream is a vital tool to regaining perspective that might otherwise be lost in the press of work and ideas.  Every year since 2004 we’ve spent a week or more around New Year’s Eve to get lost somewhere sunny, and not think about the things that need to get done back in the office.  I’m looking forward to that trip.

That’s a few weeks away still.  In the meantime I’m energized by the prospect of all the interesting possibilities that life presents. My challenge is to push things and people along the path so that every idea can get closer to fruition. It’s a rather delicate process.  I can’t just pick up the phone and yell at people to get their jobs done.  There are always obstacles to every project, and there’s never enough money.  So I spend a lot of time figuring out clever ways to circumvent barriers and financial limits (with the help of a few trusted advisers and partners), and then gently applying pressure in the right spot.  This is actually fun.  I do get a kick out of seeing ideas become reality, even if they’re not my ideas—and they often aren’t.

Of course, it’s important not to lose sight of the crown jewel that makes all the other projects possible: Airstream Life magazine.  I still spend most of my time working on it.  The magazine’s Spring 2012 edition is about 80% through the editorial process at this point, and going to layout as of today.  We are going to have articles on the 1958 model year Airstreams (continuing the series by Fred Coldwell), a Buyer’s Guide on 30-foot slide-outs, a very interesting Airstream with a Victorian interior, a personal perspective on Chaco National Monument by Bert Gildart, the Shooting Star Drive-In (Airstream park), an Airstream barber shop, a soap opera star’s customized Airstream in Hawaii, another article in Andy Thomson’s towing series, and more. This issue will be in the mail in February.  By the way, it’s going to have a really cool cover illustration.

While I was sick in Tampa last week, I had a lot of time to talk to Brett about our plans for Alumapalooza 2012.  The event is coming together very nicely.  We would have a much easier time if we simply replicated the event each year, but we like to change it up.  That way it’s never predictable, so people who come two years in a row won’t be bored.  And, we like to look for efficiencies that make the event better.

I already talked about the three grills we had built.  We tested them at Brett’s place last week and they did spectacularly well, so you can expect hot grills for at least two hours a night during Alumapalooza.  Bring lots of stuff to cook!  We also have completely revised the seminars and entertainment so that more than half the program will be all new for 2012.  For example, we’re working on a new event we’re calling “The Backup Derby.” I’ll leave the details to your imagination for now…

But in my opinion the best idea we’ve had is a new format for “the process formerly known as registration.” Last year people were waiting in a line to confirm their registrations on site, and it was kind of a drag in the hot sun.   This year, we figured that since you’ve already registered online for the event, there’s no reason to make you wait in line when you get to Alumapalooza.

So when you’re there in 2012, either before or after you’ve parked (your choice), all you have to do is approach any orange-shirted staff member anywhere and tell them who you are.  Most of the staff will be able to check you in, on the spot, using a wireless mobile device.  The process will take about 30 seconds and you’ll be handed a plastic token for every paid member of your group.  Ta-da! You’re checked in and ready to start having fun.

At your convenience, you can swing by the Vendor Tent or visit the daily 4 pm Wally Byam Happy Hour under the Main Tent and exchange your plastic token for your personal badge, which will get you into all the seminars, qualify you for door prizes, get you dinner on Saturday, etc.  The primary registrant in each group will also get a goody bag full of coupons and freebies.  No lines, no waiting, no hassle. 

I love this sort of stuff.  We didn’t have to make this change, and it will cost us some bucks for the added technology, but it’s going to make life easier for everyone and allow our attendees to get right to the job of having fun.  I know when I get to a campground after a long day of driving, the last thing I want to do is wait in line at the front desk and go through some overly-complicated registration process.  Getting geeky with our technology to eliminate that tedium is very satisfying.

OK, let’s talk about another project:  This week I am pleased to announce the Airstream Life has published another book, “The Collected Adventures of Tin Hut.”  It presently is available only in ebook format (Amazon Kindle right now, Apple iTunes bookstore for iPad & iPhone in a few days).  The book is a complete set of every Tin Hut episode ever published in Airstream Life—a total of 22 episodes, complete with the original illustrations by Brad Cornelius.  It’s pretty damn funny.  The price is just $9.95. We’re working on a softcover print edition to follow next year, which will probably be more expensive because of the cost of color printing.

I have four other book projects waiting in line right now.  They’re all going to be great (I say with as much modesty as I can muster) but each one has a set of barriers holding it back.  With luck, I’ll be able to announce two of them next year. Even when I’m not writing the books, it’s a huge job just to get each one out the door.  I love doing them despite the hassles.  By the way, speaking as a print publisher, I think ebooks are the way to go.  I can offer more titles at lower prices, especially books that would never see print because their audiences are too niche.  Some titles must be in print for logistical reasons, but I’ll always offer an ebook edition at the same time.

Another announcement:  the free Airstream Life Online Edition is now compatible with Apple iPad.  I get emails almost monthly from people wondering when they’ll be able to read it on their iPad.  Now you can.  iPad users, try it here.  The underlying software is still in beta, so it’s not quite perfect but we’ve been promised that the platform will get better in the next few months.

Events:  There’s more in the pipeline that I can’t talk about yet, but trust me, it’s good stuff.  Hopefully we will be able to announce a second major Alumapalooza-type event, out west, for next summer.  We’re just waiting for confirmation that the venue is available, and then we’ll open up registration.  And we are already at work on a third event for February 2013.  Each event will have its own name and be completely different, so rather than Alumapalooza 1, 2, and 3 clones, they will be more like a set: collect ‘em all.  This is really fun work. I just wish we could make it all happen faster.

One last announcement.  I’m once again working with Brett to curate the Modernism Week 2012 show in Palm Springs.  The show will be February 25-26.  For information on times and tickets, visit Modernism Week’s website.  We have space for just 20 exceptional vintage trailers at the show, and already half the spaces are taken by some unbelievable restored and customized rigs, including Randy Grubb’s one-of-a-kind Decoliner. It’s going to be an awesome show.

Modernism Week is a different kind of display opportunity from vintage rallies.  When you go to a rally you are showing off your trailer to other trailer enthusiasts.  That’s nice, but you’re sort of preaching to the choir.  At Mod Week, nearly 1,000 people who aren’t yet vintage trailer owners come from Los Angeles and southern CA specifically to see what’s cool.  They don’t know trailers, but they know what they like and they love good design. That’s why lots of smart trailer customizers and vendors of trailer-related products are bringing their best rigs to Palm Springs for this show. Airstream will probably be there to show their new Sterling concept trailer too, and we are hoping Chris C Deam will put in an appearance at the same time.

To encourage the best of the best, we have put together a special owners-only program which includes a private reception before the show, tickets to an evening event/party at the new Saguaro Hotel, and a chance to win one of three coveted Airstream Life “Wally awards.”  If you’ve got a sweet vintage trailer of any make (not just Airstream) and want to be considered for the show, just ping us at info (at) alumapalooza.com for the application form.

This is only about half of what’s on my plate.  You can see why my head is swirling right now.  There’s so much fun stuff out there to work on!  I’ll keep pounding away at the keys and working the phone this winter so the Airstream and vintage-trailer lovers can have a great 2012—and I will too.

I know I said I’d blog from RVIA, the annual industry trade show, but things didn’t work out exactly as I’d hoped. There was the predictable constant pouring rain of course, and the show was useful from a business perspective, but I was thrown off course by two surprises. First, I discovered that our favorite pizza place was closed for renovations “until 2012,” which threw off one of the things I really look forward to each year. Second, somebody zapped me with a virus.

The virus wasn’t completely unexpected. I count every year that I manage this trip without getting sick as a bonus, since the schedule requires me to fly on the Sunday or Monday after Thanksgiving weekend when the airports and airliners are packed with sneezing people. The air terminal was almost standing-room-only and the flight to Louisville was full. Also, it’s hard to get a full night of sleep when you are jumping two time zones and running around for 17 hours a day. Monday and Tuesday night, when I would normally try to blog the events of the day, I was collapsing into bed. Then it all caught up with me. I slept for ten hours and awoke Wednesday with a sore throat, just in time to head to the airport for Tampa. So no blog from Louisville.

Now I’m established at Brett’s place in Tampa, still dealing with the virus but basically functional. At this point RVIA seems a distant memory but I’ll share a bit of what I remember. The big news from Airstream was the trailer pictured above, which is a concept by Airstream and Chris C Deam in the International CCD series, called “Sterling.” Chris happened to be inside later in the day so I asked him about it and he told me that his primary goal was “authenticity,” which is reflected in the aluminum finish on the cabinetry. It’s real (thin) aluminum atop a substrate, not a fake laminate.

The couch is white ultraleather, and the floor is a a unique weave that has a distinct texture and resiliency. If the concept gets traction with the dealers at the show, it will go into production. The floorplan shown was the usual 25 Front Bedroom layout, a popular starting point.

At long last Airstream is introducing an approved bike rack. They haven’t had one since the 1970s. Various people have for years been spreading the misinformation that Airstreams cannot carry any weight on the rear bumper without risking frame separation. This may have been true at one time, especially in the dark days of the Beatrice era, but all modern Airstreams in good condition (no floor rot) have a certain loading capacity at the rear. Airstream hasn’t been active in discounting the myth because if they do they’ll run into the “idiot factor,” meaning someone who overloads the bumper and then wants warranty repairs on it.

But now they’ve got a bike rack that is truly factory approved up to 77 pounds, which is more than enough for two bicycles. Only Airstream will be able to sell it initially. It is aluminum, of course. The retail price wasn’t yet available, but I’d guess it will go for $200-300.

The rack requires permanently mounting four brackets to the bumper and body (drilling required). The rack will be easily removable, although the four mounting points will stay. Even with the rack installed, you’ll still have access to the bumper compartment and any rear body compartments on the trailer. We played with it a bit and it seems very sturdy. I may get one next year for evaluation purposes.

Zip-Dee was showing a prototype electric awning with a remote control. We may be seeing that on Airstreams starting next year. It should eliminate a lot of questions that newbies have about deploying the awning, and you can put the awning out exactly the distance you want. The remote is a key chain unit much like a car keyfob. Zip-Dee is even considering a 12v outlet on the awning for your LED lights.

There wasn’t a ton of exciting new tech out there, but I see that MVP (another RV manufacturer) was showing an electric Class C motorhome. It was strictly a prototype, with only a 100 mile range. They are aiming to expand that to 200 miles soon. No word on whether it will really go into production.

The guys from EFOY were back (read my blog from last year’s RVIA to get their story) with their electric fuel cell generators, but they still aren’t ready to expand in to the US yet. I’m going to stay in touch with them in the hopes that they’ll start delivering units and the ultra-pure methanol fuel required sometime in 2012.

Now our job is to follow up with a couple dozen people, and Brett and I will be doing that for the next few weeks. Between those calls and emails, I am working on the Spring 2012 magazine and putting the finishing touches on a new book that will be released soon: The Collected Adventures of Tin Hut (Volume I). It will come out in print and as an electronic book for Kindle and iPad, hopefully in time for Christmas. Just editing the final copy makes me smile and forget that I’ve got a virus, so I think a lot of people will enjoying reading or re-reading the fantastic adventures of my favorite Airstreaming couple. By the way, after five years of secrecy, the actual author of the Tin Hut series will finally be revealed in the book.

I like to see businesses advertising that they are going to do a promotional trip with an Airstream.  Why wouldn’t I?  It means that I’ve got another article to commission for a future issue of Airstream Life.  That’s my bread and butter.

So I was pleasantly surprised to see in the pages of our local “community living” magazine that the Tucson restaurant called KingFisher is advertising some sort of “Road Trip 2011,” and in the ad appears a little Airstream being towed by a vintage pickup truck.

I wonder what that means?  I could not find details about this promotion on their website, but it sounds intriguing.  It would be great if the road trip actually included an Airstream.  All too often the graphic design folks snag a bit of clip-art featuring an Airstream when the planned promotion involves no trailer or all or (far worse) some sort of “white box” trailer instead.  I’ll try to find out.

But if they are towing an Airstream, they’ll need to carefully review their towing setup.  The trailer in the picture has a significant problem — can you spot what it is?  (Click on the image for a better view.)

Yes, it’s being towed backwards.   The first tip-off is that the entry door is on the wrong side of the trailer.  Look more closely and you can see that the little lip on the left end is actually the bumper, not the hitch.

Now that I think of it, perhaps it’s a better idea that they not take an Airstream …

Being former Vermonters, we are inclined to believe in perennial traditions such as late winter harvesting of maple sap, April snowfall, and the fall county fair.  Where in more urbane settings the county fair might be considered a hokey and archaic gathering of yokels and hooligans, Vermonters know that the county fair is one of those places where you can count on meeting your friends and seeing their children proudly displaying the heifers they raised from calves.  Rather than being an opportunity to eat fried Twinkies and shop for hot tubs, the Vermont county fair is an occasion for adults to exchange sociable greetings between the display of New Holland tractors and the 4-H tent.

For kids, the attractions are more basic.  Sugary sweets (cotton candy, funnel cakes, flavored ice) and rides that spin your head off are the reason to go.  We adults pretend to tolerate this because we want our children to grow up to appreciate the finer aspects of the county fair later, but in reality we still wish to recapture the simple thrill of the midway and its colored lights, barkers, and rigged games as remember them from our own childhoods.  By holding the hand of an excited child tugging our way to the Tilt-A-Whirl, we can at least touch the memory briefly.

So once in a while, we take Emma to the county fair.  Here in Arizona, the season is upside down in an attempt to beat the heat, with the Pima County Fair happening in April rather than the traditional northern schedule of August or early September.  This disconcerts us a bit, because we associate the fair with the coming of pick-your-own apple season, and the quickening of chill in the evenings.  The ground should be damp from the last of the summer thunderstorms, and hearts should be bittersweet with the knowledge that the preponderance of summer is gone but a last thrill awaits.

Dusty air and a sense of intense sun are the hallmarks of an Arizona county fair; after all, the heat of summer is just around the corner. In a month we will hit 100 degrees for the first time and, as they say locally, the ice will melt in the Santa Cruz River.  (That is definitely a tongue-in-cheek statement, since the Santa Cruz bears no surface water for much of its length and ice is only found in drinks around here.)  So here the County Fair represents the impending turn of seasons, as snowbirds flee and Arizonans call for their annual air conditioning checkups.

County fairs come in all sizes and persuasions, from the tiny Stalwart County Fair (Michigan) that features agricultural exhibits and not much else, to the extra-large events in major urban areas that are primarily a mix of rock concert venue and carnival.  A nearly-universal attraction of modern fairs, however, are the rides: slides, coasters/flumes, spinners, and drops are the basic tools of the amusement park ride developer, and once in a while you can mix up a few elements to come up with something like the “Disk-O” (above).  There is little that can be called new, but then love is nothing new and yet people still practice it.

In the section of the park that is oriented to big kids and childish adults, the rides are almost always the same as I remember from my childhood but with louder music and stranger airbrushed graphics.  The spinning “Himalayan” that Emma loves is called the “Rave” here, and it features a giant King Neptune as disk jockey wearing sunglasses and an audio headset.  On a nearby ride I see airbrush art of clowns bearing machine guns. Nothing makes sense but it all somehow fits in an absurd, Alice-In-Wonderland sort of way.

The aluminum handrails of the “Moscow Circus” are sticky with thousands of hands that have recently been handling greasy corn dogs, gooey nachos slathered in cheese, pizza slices, turkey legs, funnel cakes, and deep-fried Snickers bars.  I think about handwashing or applying Purell, Emma thinks, “Let’s go again!” — and the adult part of me fades away, the child wins out, and we go again, and then find another ride until the sun has long been behind us and the lights of the fair have come on to create a new world that bears exploring yet again. You can’t compete with that sort of magic, and pretending it isn’t there is a very “adult” thing to do, which in kid-speak means stupid.  Just let it wash over you, because escapism is something most of us don’t practice often enough.

I think the best aspect of the county fair is its transience.  It happens only a few days each year, and then it slinks away on trucks to find a home elsewhere.  You have to participate when it is ready, like eating a chocolate chip cookie hot out of the oven.  Wait a little while and the little chips aren’t melted anymore.  Wait a few days, and they’re gone.  This small window of opportunity forces you to rise up out whatever doldrum you may be feeling and taste the experience at its very peak, which is a good lesson for all of us.  Life doesn’t wait, any more than the county fair does.

I just realized that I haven’t attended a rally as a camper in about two years.  There was a time when we were frequent rally-hoppers, attending events all over the country, but gradually our participation became less.  I can’t say why, exactly.  It just seems to be a natural evolution of our priorities, and perhaps a reflection that over time I’ve become less of an attendee and more of an organizer.

The gathering of Airstreams here in the LBJ Grasslands has been in many ways a classic “vintage” event.  All of the common elements that I remember from earlier years are here: a wide assortment of old Airstreams, relaxed and generally happy owners eager to socialize, and a particular emphasis on shared meals.

Our site is a rough-mown section of grasslands, atop a point of land with a moderately panoramic view and exceptional privacy.  The road leading in is gravel and dirt, and only one lane wide at spots, which contributes to a sense that you have arrived somewhere well away from the hubbub of the world.  A multi-use trail passes by (largely occupied by horses), otherwise there are no facilities whatsoever.  What we have brought with us in our Airstreams is all we will have for the days we are here.

Fortunately that’s no problem.  Eleanor made sure that the Caravel was packed full of food both for my meals and to contribute to the potluck dinners that have been planned.   Even though this trailer is smaller than the one we usually use, it has almost all the same amenities — and everything you might need, in less space.

Occupying yourself at an event like this is easy.  There’s always someone who wants to talk, or show their trailer off, or see yours.  In between, I usually find time to read, write, nap, or contemplate.  It can be exceptionally relaxing, especially in a location such as this where modern distractions are kept at a distance.

I didn’t really expect to find many “newbies” here, but I brought five copies of the new book anyway, and it didn’t take long to find people who needed them.  Most of the people here are very experienced, and in fact 13 couples attending are people we’ve camped with before, or at whose houses we’ve courtesy parked.  But there are always new people entering the vintage Airstream community, and being at an event like this is a great way for them to get up the learning curve quickly.

Being on the fringe of the civilized world does have one disadvantage to me at the moment.   Cellular phone service is iffy here, and I’m not able to get photos to upload to the blog tonight.  But once I’m back in the world I’ll update this blog with several pictures of the scene, and perhaps a few more thoughts on the day.

Things at Modernism Week 2011 got moving so quickly that I lost my usual rhythm of blogging daily from the road.  On the surface everything went smoothly, but it was the “behind the scenes” action that kept me (and Brett) running around.

Sunday was clear and cool, as forecast, and that meant a good steady crowd of visitors all day.  No longer did the mountains look like Hawaii, but the storm from Saturday was clearly visible above us as snow, which made for a fantastic backdrop on our vintage trailer scene.  In this photo everyone is still setting up, and the awnings and vintage decorations were not yet on display.

Since everyone was well-prepared for the show, we didn’t have much to do as organizers, so we were free to browse and talk to the owners and other participants.  They are a fascinating and accomplished group of people. For example, David Winick was in attendance, signing his new book entitled “Winick Airstreams,” which is about his amazing trailer customizations. Uwe Salwender of Area 63 Productions was showing his latest trailer, a 1960s Caravel. The guys from Funky Junk Farms (John, Steven, and Edward) were showing three different rigs, all very unusual, including a custom-made “housecar” on an old International Harvester truck chassis.

And there were many others, including Kristiana Spaulding of Silver Trailer and her husband Greg, Kate Heber and John Byfield of the Ecodiscovery Tour, John Long with his amazing 1935 Bowlus trailer … the list goes on. Everyone involved was interesting and fun to talk to.  So it wasn’t just about the trailers.

Most people left after the show on Sunday afternoon, but a few of us hung around for an extra night. David Winick’s daughter, Rebecca Gohl, happened to be attending Modernism Week herself, doing styling work for some “Braniff Stewardesses” who were part of the show. Like her father, Rebecca has some serious artistic talent.  She’s also a funny and interesting person who became the epicenter of Sunday night’s social circle.

We spent an hour at the suite of Rebecca and her friends, and then a group of eight of us drove downtown to Las Consuelas for Mexican dinner.  The Stuttgart Taxi was in its element when it was puttering down Palm Canyon Drive with two lovely ladies in the back seat.

The next morning it was back to work for Brett and me.  Although everyone else is free to bask in the memories of this fun weekend, we needed to do some scouting for Modernism Week 2012. We’d like to have a much larger venue so that we can stage more trailers, and have an area where non-vintage trailer owners can come camp and enjoy the event as well.  We’ve been looking for months, using Google satellite images and local contacts to research possible spots, so we had narrowed it down to three possible locations to check out on Monday.

It’s too early to confirm anything, but after a few hours of site visits and a good meeting at two locations, I can say that we are off to a solid start. I hope to be able to announce a location and details for next year’s show, sometime this summer.

We had the option of staying one more night, but with business concluded, Brett and I decided to bail out for the long roadtrip home.   The weather was fine, the desert road was wide open, and the old Merc was raring to go.  We threw our bags in the trunk and pointed the car east on I-10. By 9:30 we were back in Tucson.

It was a great trip in every respect, but next year I have to make one change.  The rest of Modernism Week is too interesting to miss, so I’m going to try to get there earlier.  The architectural tours, exhibits, and talks all sound great.  Several people who were in our show arrived a week early and said they’d had a great time visiting the other exhibits of Modernism Week.  But camping in Palm Springs is somewhat limited, especially for people under age 55 who have a vintage trailer.  If possible, we’ll work up an option that gives trailer owners an “inside track” on the week.  Stay tuned for details on that, later this year.

Finally my long-awaited trip to Palm Springs for Modernism Week 2011 has begun.  I was sort of chafing the last few days, eager to get on the road, and filling my time by triple-checking lists and over-preparing the car for every possible contingency.  Yesterday morning I was up at 5:30 a.m. even though I didn’t need to leave until 9.  After a few hours of trying to pace myself as I completed the final pre-departure tasks, I gave in, stuffed the last few things in the car, and set off up I-10 toward Phoenix.

Now, one of my few concerns about this trip was whether the old car would make it.  There was really no reason to think it wouldn’t, given that it has been well-prepared and recently serviced, and I will cut to the chase by telling you that it did just fine for the 380 miles to Palm Springs.  The real issue turned out to be the airlines.

The plan was for me to meet Brett at Phoenix Sky Harbor International airport around noon, and head out from there together to Palm Springs.  I got into Phoenix early of course, so I had plenty of time to swing by one of the local biodiesel producers and pick up 5.5 gallons of B99 to top off the tank.  Brett landed only about 10 minutes late, so all things looked good until we went looking for his luggage, which of course …  (do I have to even tell the rest of this story)?

Well, I’ll spare you the ugly view we got of the workings of an airline’s baggage handling system.  In short, we went on to Palm Springs because the bags were in Houston and not likely to arrive soon enough for us to keep our schedule for the day.  We were told that the bags, which contain a few vital items for the Vintage Trailer Show, would be forwarded on to Palm Springs by transferring them to another airline.

When we arrived in Palm Springs we found John Long and his stunning 1935 Bowlus already set up on the grass display area behind the hotel, a day early.  He worked out special permission to set up early, unbeknownst to us.  (I believe that is the first time I have ever written the word “unbeknownst” in a blog entry, and I think after looking at it in this context, it will be the last.)  John surprised me by looking admiringly at the old Mercedes, which was idly clattering away behind us as we greeted John.  I think he appreciated it as a piece of industrial design much like he appreciates his own Bowlus travel trailer.

Brett had by this time received two phone calls from his airline with various explanations and plans related to the retrieval of his baggage.  The ultimate solution — so we thought — was to drive over to Palm Spring International Airport and pick up the bags from the 7:15 flight of the “other” airline.  But when we got there, we discovered the flight had been canceled.  So, back to the hotel, and another round of phone calls.

At 9:15 we were back at the airport.  I sat in the car curbside for a few minutes (thinking this would be a quick errand), but when the police chased me away a few minutes later I realized that things were not going well inside the terminal for Brett.  I sat in the Cell Phone Lot until 10:30 while Brett went through these stages:  (1) Looking for bags on the carousel; (2) Realizing the bags were again lost; (3) Dealing with an unhelpful “other Airlines” representative who told him he knew nothing about the situation and could not track the bag without a claim number; (4) Calling his first airline multiple times only to be told, “The other airline has the bag now, in Phoenix, and we don’t have a tracking nunber for it”; and finally (5) Conceding defeat at 10:30 pm, and heading off to the grocery store to buy a toothbrush.

At dawn he was at it again, and the latest word is that the baggage will arrive sometime today on some flight to Palm Springs, and it will either be delivered by courier to the hotel or Brett will have to take the Stuttgart Taxi to go fetch it. In other words, we know nothing except that in theory the bags still exist on some existential plane of the universe.

But hey, I won’t tell anyone Brett is wearing all the same clothes from yesterday.  All we’re doing is parking trailers and greeting people today, so he doesn’t need to look sharp until tonight when we have a private reception for the trailer owners.  By then, the baggage might be here, and we can concentrate on the thing we are here to do, which is to put on an awesome vintage trailer show this weekend.

There’s always something to be learned from even the most unfortunate circumstances.  Last night, cruising in the car near sunset, my black Mercedes 300D was whacked by a dog.  No, I didn’t hit him — he hit me.

The dog, a yellow labrador, was off leash and ran out onto Broadway, which is a busy five-lane thoroughfare in Tucson.  He crossed the centerline and actually rammed my car on the driver’s side front fender.  I saw only a brief glimpse of him and then — WHAM! — and my first thought was, “Oh no, I’ve just killed a dog.”

But he wasn’t killed.  He bounced off the car, and ran back across the roadway.  I stopped, but again I only got a glimpse of the dog as he high-tailed it back to the side of the road.  I grabbed a piece of door trim that had been ripped off the car and then made the first possible U-turn back to the scene.

There I found a lady who was holding the dog by the collar and petting him reassuringly, while talking on her cell phone to the owner (the dog had good tags).  He appeared not only completely uninjured, but quite happy about his circumstances, doing all the usual yellow lab things like grinning foolishly and panting and inviting me to pet him too.   There was some concern that the dog might have a concussion, especially after we got a good look at the large dent his head put in the steel fender of my tank-like Mercedes, so when the owner arrived we encouraged him to take the dog to a vet for a good check.

But really, he’s a yellow lab.  Does he even have a brain to bruise?   (I’m going to get grief from my friend Al B for that remark.  He trains yellow lab puppies for Canine Companions for Independence. But those dogs are carefully bred and selected for ability.)

Well, I hope he’s OK.  He seemed like a nice dog, even if not too savvy about traffic. And I suspect his owner has learned a lesson too.

But wouldn’t you know, the damage estimate came in at $785, which will not be covered by insurance since I carry only liability on that car.  So now I have a good reason to have a chat with the dog’s owner.  At the time of the incident I got only a phone number, because (stupidly enough) I didn’t have a working pen in the car.  We were in a hurry to see the dog off to a vet, so I didn’t press further.

Thanks to the scary miracle of the Internet, that was sufficient.  With a few minutes of careful Internet searches, I was able to turn up not only the owner’s name and address, but also:

• personal and office email addresses
• religious associations
• mailing address
• colleges and degrees, including GPA from undergrad and his current program of study
• photographs
• names of some friends
• where he had lunch last week

Yes, it doesn’t take much to leave a big footprint on the Internet.  (I’m sure mine is far larger than I want it to be.)  But with Facebook, Twitter, mySpace, etc., some folks are especially discoverable.  The relevant info will go to my insurance company and they’ll see about getting some compensation for the damage.

In the meantime, I have decided to take the 300D to Palm Springs tomorrow as planned.  I was able to reattach the door trim with new clips from the local dealer, and with that in place the rest of the damage isn’t terribly embarrassing.  The paint is mostly OK, and this is the desert anyway, so rust won’t be a big issue.  I’ll get it fixed in a couple of weeks.  If you are coming to Modernism Week to see the Vintage Trailer Show, please avert your eyes from the driver’s side front fender and help me pretend that my car didn’t just get rammed by a hard-headed labrador.