Part of my agreement in writing this blog is that it would stay close to the topic of vintage Airstream trailering. That limitation does make it a challenge though, especially in the winter when I’m not traveling.

Still, I’ve been to a couple of RV shows and yes, I do look at other brands and makes of RVs. Each time I do I come away with the conviction that Airstream is the best RV for my wife and me. One of the things I like about Airstream travel trailers is that they are relatively close to the ground. Two steps up and you’re in.

I read somewhere, not too long ago, that the number one cause of injury in RVing are falls. This is a big concern for me since my wife is handicapped. Getting in and out of our trailer has to be something she can do without my help. Airstreams are about the only travel trailer or RV she is comfortable with.

Some examples of other manufacturer’s stairs prove my point I think.

This is what you might see after falling out.

Too narrow and steep for adults, these stairs leading to a shallow sleeping loft are obviously for kids only.

With that in mind, it is easy for me to eliminate 90 percent of the RV’s out there. It’s astounding how many steps and stairs some of the other makes have, and some are just plain ridiculous. Miss a step with some of these rigs and you’ll likely find yourself in hospital.

They’ve got to be kidding! I wouldn’t attempt these stairs even if I was drunk.

I’m always disappointed with the small turnout of Airstreams at the RV shows, but it is understandable. I’m told that for the shows to be profitable an Airstream dealer ought to sell around six trailers, but consider themselves lucky to just sell one. Shows are just not good from the sales perspective. I think it’s worthwhile from a showcase perspective though, and maybe the salesmen, who often are not exclusively Airstream, just don’t do a good job.

There seems to be a lot of apologetics when it comes to price. While I was standing around, I noticed a couple of men commenting on the price of the Flying Cloud. The salesman wasn’t around and so I mentioned to them that they were looking at the price the wrong way. “It’s a long term investment, versus a short term one,” I said.

“How’s that?” One of them asked.

“Look at all the RV’s on display here – hundreds of them. This Airstream will outlive all them. Twenty or thirty years down the road every RV on the floor will be junk, but this Flying Cloud will still be on the road, looking as good as it does now.”

I could see their attitude change as I said that. Then I told them to watch the movie running on the TV inside. “Watch this slalom test, wait for it, wait for it… here it comes.” As I said that, the SOB being tested head to head with the Airstream nearly tipped over. “That’s why you want an Airstream.” The men stayed and watched the movie again from beginning to end.

I ought to be a salesman. Airstream is a product I can get behind. Oh, wait, I guess I am a salesman, I just don’t get a commission.

Every time we trailer to the coast or the Great Lakes, I get to thinking about the similarities between RV’ing and boating. Truly, a boat is a recreational vehicle, and even the lifestyles are quite similar. I just read a blog written by a full-time live aboard couple. They describe their “way of life” on the water and its advantages and disadvantages. The parallels are remarkable. Seamanship is much more demanding though, in my opinion. Taking a wrong turn with your Airstream is no emergency. Getting lost out in the vastness of the ocean is an entirely different matter.

There was a time when I thought I wanted a life at sea, but it only took a couple of summer cruises with the USN as a cadet to convince me that I was a landlubber for life. I never got so seasick that I was at the rail and green at the gills though. Instead of nausea, I had a constant dull headache 24/7.

I still think a life at sea is wonderful, for those who can adapt to it. Patrice and I were in Bar Harbor, Maine about five years ago. We were traveling in our new-to-us 1966 Airstream Overlander. We toured Acadia National Park and enjoyed the area so much that we hope to return someday. Though there was one attraction, we won’t do again.

Our 1966 Overlander parked in beautiful Bar Harbor Campground.

Somehow, Patrice got it in her head that we should go on a whale watching tour. She had been on ferries and riverboats and thought that since she handled those all right she would be okay on the Atlantic. Keep in mind that she is born and bred, fourth generation, on the Colorado high desert plains. “Are you sure?” I asked, but she had made up her mind to see the whales up close.

Our first definitive hint that this was a bad decision was when we learned that the ocean swells were “down” to fourteen feet. The previous three days the action was too great for the tour boats to go out. That’s three days of no income for that business and I think they were getting hungry. The boats were going out despite the marginal conditions.

Our second hint came as we watched passengers from the morning tour disembark. No one was smiling. No one was happy. Someone in our crowd called out, “did you see any whales?”

A particularly disgruntled old man answered, “Yes, we saw five whales and five hundred barf bags.”

That should have been our clue to ask for a refund, but no, Patrice wanted to soldier through. “It can’t be that bad,” she said, “look how calm the water is now.”

The catamaran in Bar Harbor’s calm water.

I reminded her that the harbor is supposed to be calmer and that the sea will change dramatically once the boat clears the breakwater. About then, the crowd we were hemmed into began to board and it was too late to change our minds.

The seed of nausea had already been planted though, and the catamaran tour boat didn’t help. Unlike a boat with a single deep draft hull, catamarans have two hulls fixed together to provide a shallow draft that will also resist capsizing. As a result, they ride the wave crest, unlike a conventional boat that will plow into a wave. In other words, if the waves are at fourteen feet, the Cat will ride the full distance up the peaks and down into the troughs just like a roller coaster.

But unlike an amusement park ride this one lasted for hours, not minutes. Patrice quickly realized that she would need the plastic lined paper bags. She leaned close and told me, as a matter of pride I suppose, that she only hoped she wouldn’t be the first to let loose.

I tried to encourage her by telling her that if she kept her eyes on the horizon it wouldn’t be that bad. She held out right up until the person across from us lost it. Well, she wasn’t the first, but she wasn’t the last either. A chain reaction of sickening gurgles and moans enveloped the boat. Few among the hundred or so passengers were spared.

I was fine until Patrice asked me to get some paper towels from the galley. This meant going below to an area of the boat where I couldn’t watch the horizon. Imagine also standing up in the first roller coaster car and scrambling over the passengers to the last car, and back. I was lucky; the trip only gave me that same spinning headache I’d experienced so many years earlier.

The captain announced that we would see some whales, if only he could find them, but not to worry, he’d stay out until he did. An hour into this, Patrice complained, “Just where are those damn whales?”

Finally, a passenger cried out, “There’s one. There he is at ten o’clock.”

A whale at 10 o’clock!

Patrice let out a sigh, “Finally! Enough already, we’ve seen a whale now let’s head in.”

The captain announced over the PA that another boat reported a pod a couple of miles away and that he’d head that direction. Patrice looked at me in desperation, her face an ashen grey, “go give him a thousand dollars to take us home. I’m serious.”

“I know you are. Aren’t you glad you didn’t buy us tickets to see the puffins as well?”

“I don’t think I can take it anymore,” she cried. “Give me another bag… quick!”

“They’re out,” I said, alarmed, “you’ll have to use the old one.” It was self-preservation; I turned away and watched the horizon. An hour later, the boat began the return trip. I fell asleep. I was exhausted from the constant movement.

When we disembarked, someone from the herd of fresh passengers waiting on the dock cried out, “did you see any whales?”
“Yes,” a fellow traveler answered, “we saw five of them and five hundred barf bags.”

As for me, I woke from my nap refreshed, with a clear head, and an empty stomach. I was surprisingly hungry, and to add insult to Patrice’s injury, I took her to the nearest restaurant where I devoured a Maine lobster in front of her. She had tea.

“Hon, you sure you don’t want some?”

Driving south on I-25 between Loveland and Denver I nearly lost control of my rig. We were returning from a rally. The weather was perfect. The road was straight and dry. Traffic was heavy as it always is in that area. I was towing at my normal highway speed of sixty mph when the road surface in the number two lane (farthest to the right) pitched up and down in a series lasting about a quarter mile. This wave like surface created an unsettling oscillation and sway, so much so that I was only able to regain control by using the trailer brake controller to activate the trailer brakes. I’d already taken my foot off the gas pedal and so we were slowing, but the trailer was pushing our Suburban around. By activating only the trailer brakes, we were able to slow down and stop sway.

Some of you may think that if I had a Hensley hitch, instead of the Reese dual cam, that this wouldn’t have been a problem, but you’d be wrong. Later that day, Rich Luhr and his family drove the same route and encountered the same problem. Rich even anticipated it because he noticed the undulating surface and slowed down somewhat prior to driving into it. His rig has the latest and best equipment – Hensley hitch, Kodiak disk brakes and of course his tow vehicle is a Mercedes – can’t get much better than that. My rig is all circa 1985 technology.

When we later compared notes, we came to the same conclusion. The only solution to that bad patch of road is to drive through it more slowly, perhaps at forty mph (the speed limit there is seventy-five). What we believe happened was that our trailers began seesawing and when the rear of the trailers went down the fronts went up, taking the rear of our tow vehicles with it. This effectively un-weighted the rear axles of our tow vehicles, causing the trailer to push instead of be pulled. Even with his Mercedes and its all wheel drive, the front wheels alone can’t control a thirty-foot trailer (mine is thirty-two feet, but a little lighter).

Our ‘86 Excella and ‘85 Suburban are in the foreground. Rich’s Tour of America bunk house is in the background.

The leaves are turning for autumn and nicely frame Rich’s Airstream.

Fortunately, we both arrived at Cherry Creek State Park no worse for wear. The park is still Five Star, even though the staff there was on furlough the day we arrived (the Governor recently mandated four furlough days for all State employees due to a budget crisis). Both Rich and I have commented in past postings about this park, but it deserves repeating. The RV sites all have level concrete pads, full hookups, and graveled picnic table and fire pit areas. The overall scenic appeal I’d rate at least an eight and in the fall perhaps a nine.

All the RV sites, whether they are back-in, such as this one, or pull through are excellent.

There is a lake for swimming, boating and fishing. The bike paths are simply the best in the world and can take you into downtown Denver and Aurora, or out into the country if you’re so inclined. There are excellent nature trails and even a remote controlled model airplane airport, complete with paved runways and spectator stands. Outside the park is all the shopping you could hope for, in any direction. Access into and out of the park is straightforward because it borders I-225. Rates continue to go up though. That is the only downside, but it is still a better deal than any private RV park in the area.

Mt Evans (14,240 ft), in the background, and Cherry Creek Dam are visible from much of the park.

Our one-month summer road trip is over. We’ve returned reluctantly, but quickly. The irony of this always puzzles me. We don’t want the journey to end, yet when it is indeed coming to a close we rush home. We covered a little over a thousand miles in two days.

In the past, I’ve said I wouldn’t do that. It’s particularly hard on Patrice, but we’ve discovered something that many of you probably already know – naps in the afternoon. By pulling over when we get groggy, just about when lunch has digested, when the day is warmest, and fatigue sets in, pull over for a nap in the trailer. We’ve found, well I’ve found – since Patrice isn’t quite as convinced – that when I wake I’m refreshed enough to drive until it is good and dark. In the summer that is around 9:30 p.m. Then we pull over for the night; get a good sleep and an early start the following morning. I think this can be repeated for quite some time and seems to me to be a safe way to cover 500 or 600 miles each day.

Or so I think, after we left Madison and were driving southwest on Highway 151, about 30 miles from Dubuque, where we came upon the aftermath of an accident. At the bottom of a long steep hill, a tow truck was pulling a trailer up onto its wheels. The mangled shiny mess wasn’t immediately recognizable, but as we went by, we saw that it was an Airstream. It had rolled like Kick the Can down the embankment. A sobering reminder that safety can’t be taken for granted.

Out of all the roadside rests we used our vote for the best were Nebraska’s. They were often well off the Interstate and usually segregated RV parking away from trucks. They were also well kept and as pretty as the ones in Missouri which we gave second place to.

We’ve been camped in Jackson Center, at the Airstream Terraport, since last Thursday. What a great place! I could stay here for a month.

Airstream Terraport

We left Denver Monday evening, about 6:30 p.m. My original plan was for us to leave on Tuesday morning, but I wanted to get to JC before 2:00 p.m., Thursday, so that I could tour the plant while some trailers were being made. With the recession, Airstream has cut production to around eight trailers a week. Their workforce and workdays have also been reduced. There are factory tours on Friday but nothing is up and running.

To get here we took I-70 all the way to Dayton. When we stopped for the night, we utilized roadside rest stops. The one at Arriba, CO was level and clean, but very windy. Missouri’s rest stop was equally level, and attractive, but very busy with truck traffic. Indiana’s rest stop was the best though. It was park like, with a separate RV area (although that didn’t stop some truckers from parking there).

The Roadside Rest at Arriba, CO

Road condition was excellent everywhere but in Indiana. Illinois had the very best. It always amazes me how different a road surface becomes just crossing from one state into another. I-70 was terrible all through Indiana except for where it goes through the capital, Indianapolis.

Denver to Jackson Center is nearly 1,300 miles. To get there in time required 400 plus mile driving days. That isn’t something I like to do nor do I like putting Patrice through it. As it was, we lost an entire morning due to a breakdown.

Prior to leaving, I took our Suburban into my local Chevy dealership to check the brakes and earlier they replaced the harmonic balancer.

In Kansas, I noticed the parking brake pedal traveled all the way to the floor. Not a good thing if we need to park with the trailer on a grade somewhere. I’ve crawled under to check the cable and it looks okay. The problem, I think, is that it has come loose in one or both brake drums. This particular design requires pulling a drive axle to remove the brake drum and make adjustments. It isn’t something I want to do on the road. In fact, that’s why I had Chevy check it. It’s a hassle. It looks like that is what will need to be done though. For now, we’ll do without. The hydraulic brakes work fine, and the shoes are adjusted properly (that can be worked on through a small service port on the backplate).

In Missouri, I began hearing a “clickity, clickity, clickity.” I thought it was the air conditioner compressor at first, but it was off. Then, without any other warning, we suddenly heard a thud and lost power steering. Red lights came on. The temperature gauge immediately went up to 200 degrees, then 210, then 230, and before I could get to the top of an exit ramp, it was into the red (around 260). We coasted into Gribit-N-Go Convenience Store and gas station at Boonville with the engine boiling over.

We were fortunate this all happened within a quarter mile of the exit ramp. We’d lost the bolts holding the main pulley onto the harmonic balancer. The pulley itself nearly fell out of the engine compartment, but the radiator fan shroud caught it. That was a good thing, and again I consider it a lucky break. If it had fallen out completely, it would have banged up the underside of the truck and likely done the same to our Airstream. Who knows what it might have then done to any vehicle following us.

Then we got another lucky break. Just a block from the gas station, and down hill from there at that, was Terry‘s Auto Service Center & NAPA store. I gathered the pulley and two bolts out of the engine compartment, hosed it down (thanks to the store manager), and with it cooled off a bit restarted it just enough to coast down the drive, into the street, and down the hill to park in front of NAPA.

There I unhitched and drove the Suburban into the service bay. By 1 p.m., Terry had located and retrieved a salvaged pulley out of a local junk yard, and his wonderful mechanic retapped the threads in the harmonic balancer and installed the salvage pulley and old belts. This time the pulley was put on with the proper sized bolts. The ones the Chevy dealership used were too short. With only a few threads engaged, they hadn’t held.

When we get back home, I’m giving the dealership the bill, and a piece of my mind. They simply have no excuse.

One way I keep abreast of what is going on in the Airstream Universe is by using Google Alerts. By entering a search term Google will monitor the Internet and send me an Email with links to blogs, stories and articles that pertain to a search term. I’ve been monitoring “Airstream,” “Wally Byam,” and a few other items for several years. I’m surprised that Google still has Alerts listed as a BETA feature, but perhaps not enough customers use it to merit placing it on the main menu. To get to Google Alerts go to: http://www.google.com/alerts?hl=en

A month or so past, I got a Google Alert on a story about Organic Batter Blaster. At first, I couldn’t figure out what Batter Blaster had to do with Airstream. It turned out that the inventors promoted their product by traveling to state fairs in an Airstream trailer. Batter Blaster immediately intrigued me. I’m always looking for a convenient and tidy way to cook in the trailer. This is especially important when boon docking. The fewer kitchen utensils and bowls used to prepare a meal means that less water is needed for clean up. Batter Blaster is pancake and waffle batter in an aerosol can. Simply shake it, turn it upside down and nozzle batter onto the frying pan. Voila! Nearly instant “scratch” pancakes.Well, almost. As a pancake, Batter Blaster falls a little flat. No pun intended. Okay, maybe that was a wisecrack, but that is my criticism of the product. For it to work a thin batter is required and as a result the moment it hits the pan it starts to spread out. I made my first pancake by dispensing the batter in a spiral. The result was a crepe, not a fluffy pancake. On the positive side, it was a good crepe. It was slightly sweet, firm but not spongy and could be served rolled up with a filling.

On my subsequent attempts, I dispensed a mound of batter by holding the can in one place. Still, the batter tended to spread out a little too much. To get a thicker pancake I found that if I waited for it to spread out I could then release a little more batter on top and it would double up somewhat.

The texture of these pancakes was perhaps a little too uniform. When I make pancakes from scratch or out of a box I don’t over blend the ingredients. The result is a fluffier pancake.
Not that I’m a great cook, but one of the few things I do well as a househusband is make pancakes. I make mine plate size and that requires being able to flip the pancake accurately without breaking it or making a mess. Batter Blaster is a little thin to do that easily. Each can makes about 28 four-inch pancakes.

The other down side to Batter Blaster, from a camping standpoint, is that it must be kept refrigerated. It isn’t supposed to be stored below 40 degrees Fahrenheit. This isn’t necessarily a problem, but it is a consideration. In my opinion, other products make better pancakes with almost the same convenience, don’t require refrigeration and can be stored dry until needed. For instance, there is Bisquick’s Shake’N Pour Pancake Mix. It comes in a bottle with all the ingredients but water. Add water to the contents in the bottle, shake and pour onto a hot skillet (375 degrees). It is an easy, no fuss, and no mess way to make pancakes. The disadvantage is that Shake’N Pour must be entirely used once water is added and any remaining batter must be thrown away. The batter can’t be kept (at least not for very long), and that is the big advantage of Organic Batter Blaster. The aerosol can allows the cook to use only what is needed. There is no waste. The remaining batter stays in the can and can be returned to the refrigerator for future use.

All in all, Organic Batter Blaster is a decent product and entirely convenient. It gets my recommendation. It isn’t yet widely available though. Apparently, there are marketing problems with the big chain grocery stores. I found the product at COSTCO. If you’ve ever been to COSTCO you know what that means. You can’t just buy one can. However, the three can package is economical at $4.77. Three cans, at 28 cakes per can, equal a lot of breakfasts.

In the January 2009 issue of Trailer Life the RV CLINIC page advises RV owners that “LCD screens - be they on a laptop computer, computer monitor or flat-screen television - can be damaged by freezing temperatures.” The column’s heading seemed to imply that a Liquid Crystal Screen can actually be frozen.

With the recent frigid weather the nation is having, I wondered about this. I’ve kept a small 5” LCD TV in my small Airstream for years without any damage. In my larger Airstream I have a 19” Sony LCD TV that was purchased and installed by Airstream at Jackson Center. Both are kept outdoors year around, and have experienced significant fluctuation in interior temperatures, including long periods of severe cold.

However, in querying Sony (in particular about Model KLV-S19A10) and Toshiba there is a warning that frigid temperatures can cause damage. Sony recommends that owners avoid operating their TV at temperatures below 41 degrees Fahrenheit because “the picture may be blurred or show poor color due to moisture condensation.” As for Sony’s recommendation regarding storage, they advise that their televisions can be stored “between -4 to 140 degrees Fahrenheit (F) and 20-90% Relative Humidity.”

Toshiba’s recommendations are identical to Sony’s.

But does the LCD screen “freeze?” The answer is no. There isn’t actually any liquid in a Liquid Crystal Display. The crystals are said to be liquid only relative to their ability to change shape when given an electrical charge. They are not liquid in the same sense that water is liquid, and will not expand or burst the screen by freezing in the same way that ice can burst a pipe.

Most likely, the damage to a TV, or any electronic device exposed to prolonged deep cold, is from rapid temperature fluctuations and/or condensation forming inside the device.

Rapid temperature fluctuations, or extreme temperatures are obviously hard on any electronic device. Rapid changes cause uneven expansion or contraction of various electronic components and connections. Extreme temperatures stress the design tolerances in the same fashion.

Condensation will happen when the device is moved directly to a warm humid environment when the device itself is still cold. Moisture from condensation on circuit boards and electrical contacts can cause damage, in exactly the same way that spilling a glass of water into the device can. Water will cause short-circuiting and that, in turn, can even cause a fire. A fire caused by water seems counter-intuitive, but it happens in electrical situations. For instance, never try to put out an electrical fire with water. It will only aggravate the situation.

There is the sense that as long as the device isn’t powered up (plugged in) that condensation will not cause any harm. Simply give the device opportunity to warm to room temperature and the condensation will evaporate. Then the device can be turned on without doing any harm. Again this seems intuitive, and it isn’t bad advice, but it doesn’t take into consideration that many devices today are always electrically charged even when not plugged in.

What about the LCD devices that are built into cars, trucks and SUVs? These devices are specially designed for an automotive environment, in that they are 12 volt battery powered, have perhaps more rugged circuitry, and/or are sealed to keep out dust and condensation. They are also always wired into the battery and likely have some amount of power going to them to keep them in a warm ready state.

On the other hand, most LCD TV’s used in RVs have been designed for use in a residence and are not as rugged. In addition they are 120 volt and are not connected to the 12 volt house batteries and will not be kept in a warm ready state when the RV is not hooked up to shore power. This might not be the case for every owner, but it will be for many.

So, the best advice appears to be that LCD TV’s, computer monitors and other similar devices should be removed from an RV prior to the onset of really cold weather, unless of course the RV interior is kept warm. Do not expose these devices to excessive heat, such as direct sunlight or near a heater, and do not expose them to extremely low temperatures. If the device is already in cold storage and the decision is made to move it to a warmer environment then make the change as gradual as possible and let it sit overnight prior to operating.

This doesn’t mean we should be paranoid about leaving an LCD TV in an RV. Most RV owners never have a problem and never take any precautions. Still, the recommendations from the TV manufacturers being what they are, let caution be your guide.

It looks like I’m in the market for a new digital camera. There’s nothing wrong with my old pocket camera, a Kodak Easy Share LS743, that I bought in 2005, but it is time for me to step up. Too often it is necessary for me to supplement my writing with photos. And as good a camera as the Kodak has been I need an SLR so that I can change lens’, and use a removable flash.

I really could have used that recently when I took some shots of a new Airstream in the back lot of a dealership. Lighting was terrible. The sun was low on the horizon and created drastic contrast problems for the interior shots. So, I closed the blinds. That put me in a low light situation. There was no battery power to turn on lights. I tried using the flash but those shots were either very stark or had glaring reflections because of the bare aluminum interior walls.

To much contrast from an open window blind.

Glare from flash ruins the picture.

Low light with blinds closed and flash off.

I took a lot of shots without a flash. The Kodak actually does pretty good in low light as long as the camera is held rock steady. I have a tripod just for that, but since the camera can’t be fitted with a wide angle lens I have to hold it in some unusual positions. That means I can’t use the tripod. Sometimes I’m able to hold the camera steady enough by bracing my hand or the camera against something solid. I’ve noticed though that as I get older my hand isn’t as steady as it was even a few years ago. I took well over a hundred shots, but ended up with perhaps only a dozen that are usable. Of those, I wouldn’t rate any of them as being good.

My first digital camera was an inexpensive ($160), all plastic, Intel Pocket PC camera that I bought in 2000. It was the digital equivalent of an Instamatic. Easy to use, rugged, pretty good color but the resolution was less than 1 mega pixel, and a flash wasn’t available. I only bought it to experiment with digital photography. My main camera back then was a Fuji SLR that I’d used for over a decade. I had several lens for it, including a wide angle. It would be nice if I could still use those lens with a digital SLR, but the Fuji had a threaded mount and I think all digital SLR’s have a bayonet mount.

I stopped using the Fuji in 2003 when I bought a Kodak Easy Share LS443. It wasn’t that the Kodak took better pictures but I’m frugal. Film is a hassle and expensive. Digital isn’t. I love digital cameras.

The LS443 had a defective part in it though. I used it for two years when suddenly and unexpectedly it died. Kodak gave me a deal too good to refuse on the LS743 though and that’s what I’ve been using ever since. I like a camera that takes a good photo and is convenient to carry.

That’s the problem with the SLR’s. They’re much more bulky, and to keep the auxiliary lens available means carrying a camera bag or wearing a vest. But it’s time to open up the wallet and get one never the less. I’m thinking the best time to shop will be after Christmas. Any recommendations? I’d like to keep the price under $800. That may mean going with something used or refurbished but I’m okay with that.

By the way, I’m a grandpa again for the sixth time. My youngest daughter, Molly, gave birth to her fourth child last Thursday night. Everyone expected another boy, but she finally got her wish and this one was a girl! Heidi Lynn, 9 lbs. 6 oz., 21 ½ inches, full head of hair. As you can imagine we’ve been pretty busy, babysitting her boys at home, but we did get down to see her and Heidi at the hospital yesterday afternoon. Both are doing well and will be home late tomorrow.

Recently, I was able to take a tour of Timeless Travel Trailers in Wheat Ridge, CO. Timeless is one of only a few custom builders allowed to purchase empty unfinished trailers direct from Airstream. This is recognition of the excellent work they do creating custom Airstreams for moneyed clients. Some of Timeless’ creations cost upward of $300,000 or more.

Timeless will do smaller jobs though and they don’t thumb their nose at us poorer folk. It is a full-service shop that does everything from “winterizing, painting, or polishing to complete redesign, re-engineering and rebuilding.”

In fact, when I moved into a condo I had to give up my 1966 27’ Overlander project. By then it was a “basket case” though. By that I mean it was thoroughly disassembled. Yet, Brett Hall, one of the Timeless owners, purchased it solely on speculation, hoping to sell it later to a client. That was a little over a year ago and it is still parked tightly in a corner of their back lot. Brett told me though that he is in discussion with a customer in New Zealand who wants just that size Airstream as a concession stand. Imagine, this trailer started out its life in Ohio, went to Canada, then to Maine, and now Colorado. That it may end up in New Zealand leaves me dumbfounded. Brett thinks it would be the only Airstream in that country!

My old ‘66 Overlander sits in the back lot waiting for a new buyer.

Timeless helped me out and hopefully it will work out for them.

There were several trailers in various stages of development. Some of the owners are celebrities and require Timeless to maintain confidentiality. So, Brett couldn’t tell us much about them. One in particular though was being re-engineered to the cutting edge of what can be done to an Airstream. A lot of these customized requests from customers add a lot of weight and such was the case with this one. As a result the chassis had to be doubled.

What I found most interesting were the power windows that Timeless was engineering from scratch. None of the windows were stock and some will be genuine stained glass and all are shaped either as circles, ovals, or a fixed crescent moon. This isn’t just good craftsmanship. It raises the bar and Airstream is now what might be call functional art.