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.

The new RV Museum in Elkhart, IN

I needed more time to do research at the RV Museum in Elkhart, so before leaving for Mackinaw City, MI, I spent the morning in a rush going through old trailer magazines in the library. This is another place I could spend an entire season. If only they’d let me camp in the parking lot.

Vintage trailers on display at the museum.

But we nearly spent too much time there. It wasn’t that we had a reservation to make because we had none. It was the weather. It had rained exceptionally hard the night before and more was on the way. There was a window of opportunity I wanted to take advantage of. The weather was supposed to clear for a a few hours between storm fronts and that was all the time I figured we’d need to head north and away from the violent weather.

When I went into the library, I found Forrest and Jeri Bone there, researching early Tin Can Tourist articles. They’d original thought they’d be on the road, but they decided to wait out the thunderstorms. I promised Patrice we’d have lunch at 12:30 then leave, but typical of me, I was late, so we didn’t actually get on the road until 1:30.

Oh my, that was nearly a very bad mistake. About an hour into Michigan we ran straight into the storm that dumped eight inches of rain in an hour on the village of Holland and spawned a tornado east of there that damaged four homes and lifted a barn from its foundation .

“Why is the trailer swaying so?” Patrice asked.

I watched the tops of trees along state highway 131 bending into the shape of corkscrews and did not answer. Should I stop? Should I speed up? The rain blew horizontally across the road and suddenly there it was, a funnel to the west. My grip tightened on the steering wheel and I resisted the urge to go faster. The storm was moving east. We were headed north. If I could just keep us on the road the tornado would pass behind us. I wondered about the few cars and trucks heading the opposite direction.

“You know when you asked me about the swaying?” I finally replied. “I think we dodged a tornado.” Seriously, how could I abandon our rig, then walk, pull, or even drag Patrice into a roadside ditch to take cover? Yet, that exact thought went through my mind. Pucker factor, nine. Relief, priceless.

Let’s face it, if you’re not interested in Airstream history, then likely you’ll find Jackson Center, Ohio a dull place. Certainly, there are even Airstream owners who only want to go there for the service center and perhaps the factory tour. Past that, the area has little appeal for them.

As for me, I could easily spend an entire season there. You would find me either camped at the Terraport (free Wi-Fi), or at the east end of the village, in the back lot of the Wally Byam Caravan Club International headquarters. There alone I could spend considerable time just going through the history archive.

There are other things of interest in and around JC though. Directly across the street from WBCCI HQ is the Wally Byam Memorial Park, at the corner of State Route 274 (Pike Street) and Parkwood Drive. The park features a municipal pool with a spray park, sheltered patios, restrooms, picnic areas, lighted tennis courts, basketball courts, and playground equipment.

The sheltered patios are available for a mere $25. Each has picnic tables, power and can accommodate 50 to 60 people.

There is GKN, manufacturer of the Henschen Axle on the north side of the village at, 522 N Main St. It is a non-descript long metal sided building. Tours have been available in the past, but right now, with the slow down in the economy, the factory looked inactive. If you want to see how the rubber torsion axle is assembled, call first, (937) 596-6125.

The Bicycle Museum of America

About fifteen miles west of JC, is New Bremen, Ohio, where you can find the highest point of the Erie Canal and the most excellent Bicycle Museum of America (419-629-9249). The museum is at 7 West Monroe St. (ST RT 274), which is nearly dead center of the town. So, it can’t be missed. Every stage of bicycle development is represented, including one of the unicycles used in the opening ceremony of the 2008 Summer Olympics, held in China. Be sure to go to the third floor and look at the replica of Alfred LeTourner’s Schwinn Paramount. He set a land speed record of 108 mph on it, and he is the bicyclist Wally Byam hired to photograph pulling an Airstream trailer in 1947. That photo is the iconic image Airstream Inc. still uses today to identify its product.

Alfred LeTourneur towing Airstream Liner, courtesy WBCCI Archive

Just up the Interstate from JC is the Neil Armstrong Air & Space Museum in Wapakoneta, Ohio. It is also easy to find, being just a few hundred yards northwest of Interstate 75 exit 111 (SR 33). Obviously, named to honor Astronaut, Neil Armstrong, for being the first man to set foot on the moon, but it also chronicles Ohio’s contributions to space flight. Among the items on display are an F5D Sky Lancer, the Gemini VIII spacecraft, Apollo 11 artifacts and a moon rock. The museum’s Astro-theater runs multimedia presentations.

There are numerous other attractions within an afternoon drive of JC, such as glass museums, and the fabulous Air Force Museum in Dayton, OH, but the surprise for me was that Airstream Inc. has not worked these connections more to its favor. That is, the LeTourner exhibit ought to have at least a photograph of Alfred pulling an Airstream with a bicycle, but it doesn’t. He was among the most famous of bicyclists in his era and one would think that, being practically neighbors, Airstream Inc. and the bicycle museum would want to make that connection, yet they don’t. The Neil Armstrong museum likewise has a photograph of the Apollo 11 astronauts talking to President Nixon through the window of the Airstream built Mobile Quarantine Facility. Would it not make sense for both the museum and Airstream Inc. to make the connection with just a note that the MQF was another of Ohio’s contributions to the space program and was built just down the road?

President Nixon talks to Astronauts housed in the MQF

It’s just nuts. Sure, I know Airstream Inc. touts these accomplishments in its sales brochures, but I think they also need to get together with their neighbors so that the general, non-RV‘ing, public can appreciate the connection when they tour the museums.

I am saddened by the news of the passing of “Bud” Cooper, the founder of the Vintage Airstream Club, and its first president. The following is his obituary information:

“Bud” Cooper

Rutherford Cooper “Bud”
COOPER - Rutherford “Bud” Cooper, age 84, of Grand Rapids, passed away Wednesday, June 17, 2009. Surviving are his beloved wife of 64 years, Bettye; daughter, D’Anne Smith and son, Richard Cooper. He will be greatly missed by his grandchildren, David Smith, Jeannine Kieleszewski, Michelle Krypel, Emily Cooper and Hannah Cooper. Bud was a mechanical engineer, world traveler, archeologist, photographer, musician, founder of the International Vintage Airstream Club, author, and lecturer. There will be a memorial service at Genesis United Methodist Church, 1601 Galbraith St., Cascade Twp. at 10 a.m. on Saturday, June 20th. Memorial contributions may be made to the church.

Published in Grand Rapids Press on 6/19/2009

“Where is Carmen taking us?” I asked, as we struggled with rush hour stop and go traffic. I watched the temperature gauge on the dash with dread. The last thing I wanted now was to stall from vapor lock. Too many tired drivers were already showing their impatience with us.

“I can’t find us on the map,” Patrice said, “I have no idea where we are.”

Carmen, our Garmin GPS, kept giving us instructions, three blocks this way, four blocks that way, and finally, “You have arrived, Elkhart, Indiana.”

“Oh, no! I thought I programmed Elkhart Campground. Instead, she’s taken us into the center of the city.” And then I had to apologize to Carmen for all the really bad names I’d actually called her. She’d taken us exactly where I’d asked. Where we ended up was the result of operator error - my error.

Fortunately, there was an empty parking lot to turn into. There, the Excella was out of traffic and away from confrontation. I cooled down and opened the hood to help the engine do the same.

Elkhart is in trouble. The RV capital of the world is hurting. The parking lot was empty because the business was closed. Everywhere, in and around the city, there are homes for sale. I picked up a realty magazine at a grocery store and was stunned at the asking prices. Hundreds of cute homes, no money down, can be had for forty to sixty grand - less than the price of an Airstream. Want something grander? How about a furnished mansion with water front property for $1,350,000? Last year, that was the price for a class A Prevost motor home.

At the campground though, there was serendipity. Down the row from us were parked three vintage RV’s. A 1978 24’ Argosy trailer, a fiberglass motor home, and a rare 1949 Masonite sided American trailer. All fully restored. They were returning from a Tin Can Tourist rally. The American belongs to Forrest Bone, TCT president, and his wife, Jeri.

Forrest Bone

Oh my, Doug Keister needs to do a photo shoot. The American deserves a real pro, not a hack like me to do it justice. Forrest told me it was found in original, nearly factory condition. That doesn’t mean it didn’t take a lot of work to bring it to its current condition though. For instance, the original silver painted canvas roof is now a beige leatherette material.

So many people ask to see the inside that Forrest and Jeri have to keep it in “open house” condition at all times. Yes, guilty as charged, I asked to see the inside too. Forrest was gracious about it. After all, how could he turn down another Forrest?

Bed room in the rear.

Front lounge

Cozy bed

Cute kitchen

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.

About this time of year, everyone is busy getting their Airstream ready for travel. I know that’s what I’m doing. My wife thinks I should make a list of things to do, but I won’t do it. My list would be so long it would depress me. Even ten items is enough to overwhelm me. Hey, what can I say? I’m a guy, and lists are for women. I don’t read manuals, or ask for directions either.

Anyway, I usually can get over to my trailer for the afternoon. My normal procedure when I get there is to sit for a few minutes (okay, maybe a half hour) and survey the situation. Then I’ll pick whatever I think I can get done before dinner.

Yesterday, for instance, I installed a CB radio. It should have been a simple task. For the most part, it was, but I’ve found that simple does not mean easy.

I picked a conventional location, in a roof locker over the dinette, next to the refrigerator. I found the wire leading to a light fixture, tapped into that, and fastened the bracket that holds the radio to the cabinet – so far, so good. Then, I needed to route the antenna cable into a space above the refrigerator, and then up through the upper vent to where I’d attach it to the antenna. The antenna itself I attached to the aluminum vent cover. Routing the cable was problematic though.

I knew where I wanted it to go, but had no immediately obvious way to get it there. The only access panel to the back of the refrigerator is the lower vent. That’s fine for doing maintenance on the refrigerator, but to reach the upper vent from there I would have to have six-foot long double-jointed arms. I finally concluded I’d have to remove an interior cabinet that occupies a small space between the top of the refrigerator and the ceiling. I could see the screws holding it together, but the space was so small I couldn’t use a normal screwdriver.

I’ve run into this before, and I attached a Phillips bit to a socket holder to make a compact screwdriver. Still, it was labor intensive turning each screw a quarter turn at a time. Fortunately, they were finger tight, and awkward ham-handed finesse was all that was needed.

Once the interior of the cabinet was disassembled, I was able to reach in over the top of the refrigerator, pull the cable in from the neighboring roof locker, and then push the bitter end up and out through the screen covering the upper vent – all with the help of a mirror, a lot of patience, and precarious balancing on a little foot stool.

I also took the opportunity to clean the top of the refrigerator and ceiling above it. It was amazingly dirty, but short of removing the refrigerator altogether, there is no other way to get to that location.

All together, that was my entire afternoon. I got that one thing done. I won’t be checking it off my list – because I don’t keep one.

The harshness of Denver weather isn’t its severity, but its wild fluctuations. Yesterday, Sunday, was mild and pleasant in the morning, but cool and rainy in the afternoon. By ten o’clock it was snowing heavily. The forecast for today is heavy snow. Last Friday, the high was 75 and I was sure that we wouldn’t see any more snow. I was wrong, but I’m in good company. No one can accurately predict Colorado weather more than three days ahead.

This same pattern was repeated earlier this month. On the 15th the high was 71 with beautifully clear blue sky, but on the 18th we had a blizzard. The following day, it reached 50 and most of the snow melted.

This is pattern is often referred to as, “the warm before the storm.” We live in a high desert plain. January and February are often dry and mild. Our heaviest snowfall traditionally comes in March and April. What is cruel about this is that our mild winter weather lulls us into thinking that we should be camping. When spring arrives, we are chopping at the bit to do just that, but just when we think we will, the hammer drops. It’s frustrating.

There are benefits to this kind of weather though. I believe the fluctuation between warm and dry, to wet and cold, and back again, helps keep the insect population in check. Also, our weather here isn’t boring. I lived in Hawaii for a year. The weather there was so predictably the same that I tired of it. I remember how much I looked forward to my return to Colorado where there are seasons.

View from my window.

Especially now that I live in a condominium where I don’t have to shovel sidewalks, I’m able to appreciate the snow. Right now as I write this, it is beautiful out. There are still a few snowflakes falling and yet it is sunny with some blue-sky showing. The streets are wet, but clear. The trees are draped in white. Certainly, our farmers appreciate the moisture and it will green everything up nicely. It does make camping difficult though.

I’ve just recently bought a GPS navigation device. I suppose I’ve been slow to adapt, but for a long time it just seemed a little extravagant. My wife has been my navigator for years, but after she had her stroke, I realized a GPS might be a good thing. She didn’t become dyslexic, but for some reason she sometimes says left when she means right, or vice versa. This has caused some tension and stress, for both of us.

On one trip my wife told me to turn left. I asked her, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said, “turn left. I know where we’re going.”

I let up on the gas pedal and we begin to slow. “What are you doing?” She asks.

“I think we’re supposed to go right.”

By now we’re almost to the intersection. “Go left, go left, or we’ll miss our turn.” She said.

“Okay, don’t get excited.” I start a left turn.

“What are you doing?” She gasps, “You’re going the wrong way!”

Now I start weaving down the lane line like a drunk driver. “You told me to turn left.”

“No, I told you to go that way,” she says, pointing to the right.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” I exclaim, “We can’t go both ways!”

“Don’t yell at me!” Her eyes start to tear, “I’m doing the best I can.”

So, when Circuit City announced it was going out of business I waited until the last week of their closeout sale to shop for a GPS. There weren’t many left by that time, but I was able to get a Garmin Nuvi 260 at half price. I’m impressed with what it does. It has replaced my vintage Airguide dash compass and altimeter.

To be fair, it’s easy for me to be absent-minded and miss a turn while I’m talking to someone in the car, but I can also do that even when I’m by myself (I daydream). With the Garmin though, it interrupts and reminds me.

It’s still new enough for me to find it entertaining and I’ll turn it on to listen to it’s directions even if I’m only going to the grocery store. The female voice sounds unemotional to me, but I know some people think their GPS gets angry when it says it’s, “recalculating.” I think they’re imagining that.

This isn’t to say the text to speech software doesn’t have its quirks. It will tell me to turn on, “Sym Aaron street,” when the name of the street is, “Cimarron.” That tickles me every time.

I think many people are naturally inclined to give their GPS a name. It’s understandable to name something that seems to have a personality, talks, and gives instructions. A friend of mine named his Magellan GPS, “Maggie.” That’s a cute abbreviation. Some users name their GPS after an ex-wife, for obvious reasons.

Remember the computer game; Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? The game taught geography and history by having the player chase clues around the world to catch the thief, Carmen. I’ve chosen that name. Carmen Garmin might be an annoying alliteration, but I like her even more now that she has a name. What do you call your GPS?

Carmen Sandiego

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.