We’re very nearly the time to launch for the season, and that means it’s time to get busy. Under the best of circumstances prepping the Airstream for a multi-month voyage is a fair bit of work, but this year it’s even a little harder because it hasn’t gone anywhere since October.  Readers of this blog will recall that our mid-winter trip to Anza-Borrego was nixed by a faulty disc brake actuator, and then just last month the hitch receiver on the Mercedes had to be sliced apart, removed, and re-installed and welded.

So we’ve messed with arguably the two most important parts of our towing setup:  the thing that lets us pull the trailer, and the thing that makes the trailer stop.  Knowing this has made me keen to do a test run well in advance of our trip, to ensure we won’t have any rude surprises when time comes to pull out in May.

Alumapalooza now dictates our departure date, at least a little.  Every May we need to drive from Tucson AZ to Jackson Center OH.  It’s about 1,900 miles on the straightest possible route.  We vary the route each time, so this year we are going via Denver and the total will be over 2,000 miles.  It’s no fun barreling across the country without time to stop and see things, so our bare minimum travel time is nine days and even that’s really pushing it. I would rather take a couple of weeks to do the trip, but other obligations are preventing that.

That gives us about three weeks to get ready, which is plenty of time for packing.  But it’s hardly any time at all if we had to get into some sort of major repair.  So yesterday afternoon, when the springtime desert heat had declined a little, I hitched up the trailer and recruited my neighbor Mike to come along on a trial run.  I told him I wanted someone with me if the hitch receiver broke, the propane lines split, and the brakes failed.  He gamely hopped into the passenger seat and off we went on a 10 mile test run through Tucson.

The car and trailer felt like a comfortable old pair of shoes.  Everything seemed exactly as it should. I actually had to dial down the brake controller voltage a bit, since the new Dexter disc brake actuator seems a little more aggressive than the old Actibrake it replaced.  Otherwise, braking was perfect.

The hitch receiver was also behaving well.  The new bolted section (where it had been cut, see previous post) seems fine.  I was listening intently for any sort of unusual noise transmitted through the body of the car, and also by opening the driver’s window and listening as we accelerated, braked, turned, and hit bumps.   I’ve long been an advocate of getting to know the sounds your rig makes, as a slightly-off note can be the first indication you get of a serious problem.  On this test drive the hitch was silent, which is exactly what you want.

Now back in the carport, the Airstream faces a couple of weeks of prep.  I will go over every major system to verify that everything is working, and do any routine maintenance.  The Hensley hitch will get closely examined and re-greased, the propane system will be checked for leaks and tanks will be filled, and all of the systems we haven’t been using over the winter will be tested.  Since we leave the trailer in “guest house mode” all winter, we already know the refrigerator, air conditioner, water pump, dump valves, electrical system (including lights), furnace, and plumbing are all fine. Minimal cleaning will be needed as well.

The big job is to clear out stuff from last year that we don’t need in the trailer, and re-pack everything for this summer.  With the cooking Eleanor always does, that means a major task just to figure out the culinary items.  Emma’s constant growth means her clothes will be all-new, and since we are going to be doing some different things this year, I’ll be slightly altering my personal items as well.  Here’s one hint: I’m packing a helmet this year.

There will also be some office equipment changes, as the pace of new technology is relentless, and I like to make the most of it.  For example, we will be packing an iPad, which will serve as Emma’s personal computer, a registration/check-in device for Alumapalooza & Alumafandango, and our in-Airstream family game system.  Last week Leigh and Brian, good Airstream friends, parked their Airstream in the carport for 6 days and tipped me off about how well the iPad does at standard board games.  It’s perfect for the Airstream, as it can store dozens of different games for us to play together those quiet nights on the road, and frees up a lot of space we had previously used for storing “travel size” versions of games.

Leigh is particularly keen on this concept, since she has recently launched a free service that reviews the best board game apps.  I had no idea that the iPad was so good at games until Leigh brought hers into the house after dinner and we started playing.  For some games we could even network our iPhones so that each of us had our own little play station.  She’s currently writing an article about it, which I hope to publish in the Fall issue of Airstream Life.

Other technology has changed as well.  I’ll have a new (“4G”) cellular connection for our Internet service on the road, and a whole slew of handy apps on the iPhone to allow me to do many routine tasks even when away from my computer.  The trick is to make sure that every piece of technology allows you to do things more easily, rather than just complicating life.  I’ve been testing work-related apps all winter and quite a few of them haven’t made the cut.

I’ve noticed quite a bit of chatter about high fuel prices. This happens every year in the springtime, as fuel prices traditionally rise in the weeks leading up to Memorial Day.  Sign-ups for Alumapalooza were a little slower this year because fuel price fears, but I’ve been interested to note that as we get closer to the event (and fuel prices begin to decline a little) people are changing their mind and signing up to drive across the country anyway.  One guy even cancelled his registration in February because of fuel prices, then re-registered for Alumapalooza in April when he realized that he’d been snookered by media hype.  In reality, US average gas prices are lower this year than last year. The average retail price of unleaded on 4/28/2011 was $3.89, and today (4/28/2012) it’s $3.82.  You can check this yourself at GasBuddy.com.

Even if fuel rose by a buck a gallon, it would only increase the cost of a 2,000 mile Airstream trip by $200 (assuming 10 MPG towing).  That’s not enough to make us stay at home.  If we were really concerned, we’d look for shorter trips rather than just giving up.  My Airstream is not yet ready to become a permanent guest house.

This week we are really going to dig into the preparation process.  It should be interesting, and even a little fun.  That little test tow I did yesterday has gotten me anxious to re-bond with the Airstream and get it out on the road for real.  Everyone knows that the anticipation of a trip can be half the excitement, and once we start our work I think we’ll get psyched for the adventures that lie ahead.

At last!  The new brake actuator arrived yesterday and with the help of friends it was installed today.  We’re back in action!

Those of you who followed the saga of our aborted trip to California know that our third Actibrake disc brake actuator quit without notice recently.  I’ve had a long and painful history with that product, which you can read about in the Tour of America archives and the Man In The Maze archives.  Suffice to say that this time we chose to switch brands, and after some research into the various products I chose to go with Dexter’s brake actuator, model K71-651-00.  It’s a 1600 psi unit designed specifically for disc brakes.

When the new actuator arrived I was immediately impressed with its design.  It’s a bit smaller than the one it replaced, and has a less-complicated 4-wire installation process (12v+, ground, brake controller, breakaway switch).  The previous one required five wires and I’ve seen some competitors that need six or more.

The mounting feet are integrated into the cast aluminum case, so I was able to toss the funky hold-down straps that we’d used before.  The whole thing seems tougher and neater, and from what I’ve read this Dexter unit has a good reputation for reliability, which is of course the highest priority in your braking system.

Removing the old dead unit was simple. The first step is to disconnect the trailer’s power, which means unplugging the trailer from shore power and removing the negative terminal on the battery.  Then I unscrewed the straps that held the brake actuator down, snipped the wires, and unscrewed the flexible hydraulic line.  It was out in five minutes, and it would have been quicker if I wasn’t working the confines of a closet.  I haven’t decided what to do with the old one yet.  My friend Rob suggested I send it to the Smithsonian.  I suppose it could be refurbished with a new circuit board but I don’t feel very good about passing on a proven unreliable product to someone else, given that I’ve had three of them fail.

Most of the job would have been fairly easy if it weren’t for that closet.  Having the actuator inside the trailer eliminates possible future problems from weather exposure, but it also means it ends up in some really awkward spot.  To get into the closet I had to lie on my side and wedge myself in, which was uncomfortable to say the least.  Fortunately, Rob came by and shared the joy by taking turns with me crimping wires in that tiny space (and he’s bigger than me).

The only other attachments needed were the hydraulic line, which just screws on with low torque (22 ft-lbs), and four wood screws to attach the Dexter to the floor. I pre-drilled the floor holes with a 1/16″ bit, screwed the actuator down, and we were basically done inside.

The next step is to fill the reservoir up with brake fluid, which required about a quart.  We reconnected the power, pulled the breakaway switch, and heard the reassuring hum of the actuator’s pump in full operation.

Once we knew it was working, we needed to bleed the air out of the brake lines.  This is the part I hate, because I have never managed to find a way to get a hose tightly on the bleeder valves so that it doesn’t leak.  I always end up with an armful of brake fluid, and this time was no exception.  But the bleeding went fairly quickly (there wasn’t a lot of air to be removed).  It definitely is crucial to have a buddy standing by at the breakaway switch to activate and deactivate the unit while you’re underneath getting doused with brake fluid.  We kept an eye on the fluid level but didn’t need to top it up until the bleeding job was done.  All told, we used about 1.5 quarts of DOT3 brake fluid to fill the reservoir and bleed the lines.

After that, the next task was to clean up the wires, which are a bit haphazard with different colors and multiple butt splices left from prior re-installations. The photo shows it before I wrapped things up.  I may also install a shelf so I have a flat surface above to store things, later.

At this point I lost my assistant, but the hard work was done.  All I need to do now is hitch up and go for a test tow.  When I do that, I’ll be checking that my previous brake controller settings still feel right for this controller (they probably will) and that I’ve gotten all the air out of the lines.  I’ll know if there’s air because it will take longer for the actuator to build up pressure and hence cause a delay in braking action.  Hopefully I got that part right.

If you are contemplating this job yourself, you’ll need these tools:

• 2-3 qts of brake fluid
• open-end wrenches to remove and re-attach the hydraulic line
• brake bleeder wrench (5/16″ or 1/4″ —check your brake calipers for correct size)
• yellow and blue butt splices
• wire cutter/stripper/crimper
• drill & small bits (to put new mounting holes in the floor)
• clear tubing & bottle for draining brake fluid
• rags or paper towels
• headlamp (very useful in small spaces)
• an assistant for the bleeding process
• mounting screws
• screwdrivers
• a test light or multi-meter
• wire loom and/or electrical tape

What a great feeling it is to have this done.  Not only are we ready to get back on the road, but I no longer have to worry about a random failure of the brakes. Dexter is a major company with a lot of experience, and they have a good product, so my confidence level in my disc brakes is high—for the first time in years.

Once in a while things don’t go according to plan.  Fate has decreed that today will serve as a demonstration of that principle.

We spent the last two days packing for an 11-day trip to southern California.  Eleanor hustled mightily to get all her stuff ready for the Airstream; she’s got big culinary plans in addition to the usual challenges of packing up a household and child.  I was busy too, packing, testing, filling, tweaking … Around 2 p.m., while Eleanor was making her finishing touches, I pulled the trailer forward a few feet and found that we had no brakes.  The disc brake actuator (a hydraulic pump) had failed.

I knew at that moment we were probably screwed, because we’ve had a long history of problems with brake actuators.  The unit was made by Actibrake, a company that has since disappeared, and whose legacy is hundreds of brake actuators that are known to suffer sudden failure.  This is our third Actibrake, and we have it only because when the prior two failed they were replaced under warranty.  For the past three years I have considered preemptively replacing this one to avoid a possible inconvenience, but since a replacement unit would cost $600-700 and this one was functioning properly, I let it go.  And so, it died in our carport without even a whimper to warn us.

But to be sure, I ran through the usual checks.  I added a little brake fluid, since it seemed low.  I cleaned the main ground for the trailer with a Scotchbrite pad.  I checked the 30 amp fuse that protects the unit, and all of the other fuses too.  With Super Terry on the phone, I verified power was going to the unit and that the ground was good.  I power-cycled it by disconnecting the battery. I even banged on it a little.  Nothing.  Dead dead deadsky.

So I told Eleanor, “We’re not going today,” which was no surprise to her by then, and I got on the phone to see if anyone in Tucson had a replacement unit.  At 3:30 pm on a Saturday, New Year’s Eve to boot, I didn’t expect much but I did get one RV parts store that was willing to order in a Dexter or Carlisle replacement actuator on Monday.  So the very best I can hope for it is to get one on Tuesday.  If I install it myself and all goes well, we could be on the road Tuesday night or Wednesday.

I think the fact that I made reservations for this trip is karmically jinxing us.  We don’t usually make reservations, and often when we do, we come to regret it and pay lots of cancellation fees.  That’s going to be the case for this trip.

Super Terry pointed out that we have a “backup” trailer, our 1968 Caravel.  So I picked up the Caravel from its parking spot and delivered it alongside the disabled Safari, and we started figuring out how to fit at least some of 30 feet worth of stuff into 17 feet.  It’s not easy.  The Caravel is a weekender.  The refrigerator is 1/3 the size of the Safari’s.  Storage is extremely limited.  It’s so small that when one person stands up to do anything (cook, make a bed, get something out of storage) everyone else has to sit down.

In 2004 we took the Caravel to the WBCCI International Rally in Lansing, MI.  That trip was 17 days, our record for length of time in that little trailer.  But Emma was a tyke then, taking up hardly any room, and it was summer so we were outside most of the time.  (In the photo, that’s Emma at age 4 pretending to be asleep.  Don’t be fooled—she never slept.)

Things are quite different now.  Emma is over five feet tall, she travels with an immense collection of books and stuffed animals, and we have the added complication that she has a nasty cold at the moment.

Plus, I just blogged about how cold it gets in the desert in the winter, and how sunset comes crashing down early.  I’m envisioning ten long nights in a tiny trailer with a sick kid …

But what can we do?  If we wait until the new brake actuator arrives, we might be on the road Wednesday.  That would cause a huge ripple that would eliminate much of the plan we’ve carefully laid out over the past few weeks.  And still something might go wrong that could cause a further delay.  Taking the Caravel is the best option we have to salvage at least some of the plan.

So we’re re-engineering everything.  About a quarter of the stuff we were bringing along is now staying home (but the Dutch oven is still coming!)  The Mercedes will now serve as our outside storage, loaded up with all the things that won’t fit in the Caravel.  (I don’t normally like to carry a lot of stuff in the car when towing the Safari because of weight limits, but the Caravel puts very little weight on the car so we are free to pack it full.)  Some plans that required big refrigeration are getting scotched, other plans are being modified.  We worked on this until about 7 p.m., but we need a lot more time to get it all figured out.

If we can figure it all out by tomorrow afternoon, we’ll get on the road and just miss our first night in the campground.  If we need more time to pack or if Emma needs more time to get over the worst of her cold, we might leave Monday instead.  All we can do is be flexible.

So tonight Eleanor broke out the cheese fondue that she had planned for our New Year’s celebration on the road, and I’m making popcorn for the movie we’ll watch.  It’s an enforced “staycation” tonight.  Not the New Year’s Eve we had planned, but a memorable one nonetheless.

The Caravel is a wonderful trailer, into which we’ve lavished attention, parts, and buckets of money, but still it has a few bats in the belfry.  (Note: Halloween-y reference in appreciation of the upcoming holiday.)   I fired up the water heater in the morning, took a shower, and discovered several new problems.  Problems are to be expected in any travel trailer as a result of time, miles, or — worst of all — long-term storage, but it just seems that at some point I should get into it and find that everything works as expected.  So far, no luck on that one.

In fairness, the problems are small: water leaks in both of the supply lines leading to the bathroom faucet, and another water leak at the water heater output line.  It’s not that the issues are big or expensive, it’s simply that they are there when they shouldn’t be.  None of this plumbing leaked last April when I last used the trailer, and it’s only a few years old.  So what happened?

Well, storage happened.  There are some types of plumbing that are better than others for long-term reliability.  Nearly every part of the Caravel has been replaced or renovated in the past few years — except the plumbing.  It looked good, so we left it, and that has turned out to be a mistake.  I think these leaks are number 5, 6, and 7 since we put it back into service about two years ago.  Every compression fitting seems to be failing, possibly as a result of thermal stresses (heat in the summer, cold in the winter) or maybe just age.  Some have been fixable with teflon tape, others have required outright replacement.

Paul fixed the water heater leak by replacing a kludged set of rigid plastic fittings (going around a tight corner) with something more elegant.  That got me to the rally site in the Grasslands yesterday, although I have had to keep an aluminum pan under the sink to catch the water that is leaking from the other two leaks in the bathroom.  (After every use of the water, I turn off the water pump and de-pressurize the system to minimize the leakage.)

The other plumbing surprise was the smell of the hot water.  Yikes.  Imagine a mixture of onion, wasabi, and sulfur, and then take a shower in it.  Phew.  It was a result of leaving the trailer in storage all summer.  I should have drained the water heater before storing it.  Fortunately, I didn’t smell like it when I came out of the shower.  After that experience, we drained the hot water tank and flushed it out with fresh water, which seems to have mostly eliminated the issue.  I’m going to do a full flush of the system and sanitize it when I get to a full hookup campground, or at home, whichever comes first.

So with the emergency tweaks done, we lined up the rigs in the  driveway and set off. There were three of us: Paul & Anne’s 1955 Cruiser, my 1968 Caravel, and Pat’s 1966 Globe Trotter.  We paused in Decatur for lunch at the Whistle Stop Cafe and then headed up to the Grasslands, in a steady cold drizzle.

There’s not much positive to say about the first night, unfortunately.  It was cold, windy, rainy, and a little muddy.  Six Airstreams were parked at the primitive campground we are using in the Grasslands, and all of us hunkered down for the night with the heat on (well, those of us who have heat –Paul never got around to installing his) and stayed inside.

I watched a movie and studied some travel books I’d brought.  The catalytic heater was my best friend, hissing quietly and glowing dimly all night long.

Today, however, is another story.  The weathermen were right: it is sunny, cool, and dry, and the wind is gone.  It’s the kind of weather that Texans have been waiting for all summer.  Airstreams are trickling into the campground for the weekend. I have no idea how many we are expecting, but when I left this morning there were 10 already.  I took off for a few hours in nearby Decatur to get the parts needed to fix the rest of the Caravel’s plumbing issues, and to take a couple of hours at the local Starbuck’s to catch wifi and charge up the laptop & phone batteries.  That’s where I am now, milking an iced decaf Americano with cream and hazelnut as long as possible.  This afternoon I’ll install the new pipes in the Caravel.  Tonight there will be a potluck dinner and I expect to find a few friends will have arrived when I return to the campground, so it should be a much more interesting evening than yesterday’s dark & stormy night.