Archives for 2011

Feb 11 2011

Road-tripping, vintage Mercedes style

I’ve got a roadtrip coming, and I’m psyched about it. You’d think that after years of traveling by Airstream I might be a little jaded by the thought of yet another cross-country drive, but not so. The fact that I’m always looking forward to the next trip tells me something good: I like what I’m doing. That’s kind of my ideal for life, to have a sense that most days I am doing what I want to do.

This trip is particularly exciting because I’m taking the vintage Mercedes 300D for its first big highway excursion. We’ll be going to Palm Springs, California for the Modernism Week Vintage Trailer Show.

No, I’m not going to be towing a trailer this time. I would have brought the 1968 Airstream Caravel, but through a series of events we ended up with 20 trailers in the show instead of the 18 we had space for, and I had to give up my own space so that we could fit them all. So I’m staying in the Riviera Resort & Spa (the venue for the event) and won’t be bringing the Caravel this year.

But the loss of my trailer space was a blessing in disguise, because the old Merc should fit in better with all the old trailers. I’ve wanted to get that car out for a good stretch of the legs anyway. My recent trip to Phoenix showed that these W123-chassis sedans deserve their reputation as fine highway cruisers. A 350-mile run across the desert seems like a great roadtrip to me, and this is the ideal time of year to do it. Once the heat arrives in May, the old car’s air conditioning will be severely challenged. Late February and March in the low desert is the season to roll the windows down and let the wind blow into the cabin.

I have to admit that this time I’ve had more trepidation about the possibility of a breakdown than I’ve ever had towing an Airstream. On the day of the trip I have to drive 100 miles up to Phoenix, pick up Brett at Sky Harbor International Airport, then continue to Palm Springs and arrive by dinnertime. There’s not much room for sitting beside the road waiting for roadside assistance. A 27 year old car with 167,000 miles on it is perhaps not the best choice when you absolutely positively have to be in Palm Springs to coordinate 20 trailers.

But the old Mercedes diesels have a fantastic reputation for running even when they should by all rights be having parts stripped off them at a junkyard. And with good maintenance, there’s absolutely no reason this car won’t go across the USA and back with 100% reliability. It’s really a matter of taking care of your vehicle and proactively maintaining things rather than waiting for them to break.

So I’ve had the car looked over twice, by two different mechanics, and asked for specific opinions about potentially problematic parts. Since my last blog about “The Bug List”, I have narrowed down the remaining issues to only cosmetic and inconsequential items. I even sprang for a new set of Michelins (thanks for the push, Tom!)

But still, it’s good to be prepared. And as I’ve noted before, prepping for a roadtrip can be a huge part of the fun. This time I’ve been researching common problems and the tools needed to overcome them, and gradually collecting the tools I might need along the way. The old Mercedes are very well designed for servicing, to the point that it seems 90% of the repairs you might need to do along the road can be accomplished with a socket wrench and an extension, three or four sockets, and a couple of fuel filters.

I’ve added a few Mercedes-specific items, like a lug bolt guide tool to help with tire changing, some of the odd “festoon” light bulbs used in interior lamps, and the unusual ceramic fuses, plus a quart of oil. With the addition of my well-stocked Airstream kit bag, I can pretty much disassemble and reassemble half the car, and that should be much more than I’ll ever use on this trip. In fact, I will be surprised if any of the tools come out of the trunk at all. I’m just being overly cautious.

One of the fun bits is that I will be running the car on biodiesel for at least the first half of the trip. Biodiesel is amazing stuff. It’s made from vegetable oil, so it’s almost carbon-neutral. Running B20 (20% biodiesel, 80% dino diesel) cuts most pollutants in the exhaust considerably, which is nice since this is a 1984-era car that isn’t nearly as clean as my 2009 version diesel with the built-in chemical processing plant.

Biodiesel is biodegradable and completely non-toxic, so spills or human contact are not much of a problem. It makes the car run a little quieter, cleans out the fuel system (because it is a solvent), and — best of all — it makes the exhaust smell like vegetable oil (reminds me of making popcorn). The only problems I’ve found is that 100% biodiesel is a bit expensive, currently $3.94 per gallon in Tucson, and it will require me to replace the rubber fuel lines soon with a different type that isn’t degraded by contact with it.

Well, there’s one other problem, too: I haven’t been yet able find a reliable source for biodiesel in Palm Springs, so on the way back we’ll have to run dino-diesel. (UPDATE: I got the new biodiesel-compatible fuel hoses and am talking to California biodiesel producers about how I might get a refill near Palm Springs.)

See? I’m geeking out about it. I love it when, rather than mixing business and pleasure, business is pleasure. It’s not always that way, and in fact I can think of a lot of times I’ve hated what I had to do, but on balance the times like this make up for it. Just a simple roadtrip — but it’s going to be one of the highlights of February and a memorable experience for years to come. I can’t wait to get rolling.

Feb 10 2011

Insane

OK, I’ll keep this short and sweet. All of the time I run into people who are full-timing in an RV, and who don’t have health insurance.

Sure, you may be young and healthy. Sure, it’s expensive. But you have to keep something in mind: our health system is insane.

We were lucky during our three years on the road. Our medical issues were few. But nothing lasts forever. I went to see the local doc for a routine checkup in December. No procedures were done. I had a 15-minute exam and some blood tests and urinalysis, all routine stuff.

The physician’s office billed my insurance company $1,046.09 for that.

No typo.

We are still in the deductible of our “high deductible health plan,” so theoretically we’re on the hook for the whole thing. But there’s a trick. Simply having health insurance, even if it isn’t covering your bill, is what’s really important. See, the insurance company has negotiated rates with the medical providers (meaning in this case, the doctor’s office). Their pre-negotiated rate knocked the bill down to $238.00. That’s what we’ll actually pay.

So what happens to the $808.09 that the doctor’s office forgave? No worries — it will get passed on to some poor sap who doesn’t have medical insurance. Sooner or later they’ll find someone who doesn’t have a negotiated rate, and if necessary they’ll garnish his wages to get it.

That’s why people who don’t have health insurance in this country are screwed. A huge percentage of bankruptcies in this country result from being what is termed, “medically indigent,” meaning sucked dry by medical bills. No health insurance? You’ll go down fast. At the rate of $1,000 per simple office visit, it won’t take long. Imagine what happens when you get hit by a car, or have a heart attack. You’ve never paid as much for an Tylenol as you will when you buy one from a hospital bed.

Don’t kid yourselves. Get health insurance and join the club of people who pay 80% less. This has nothing to do with “socialized medicine,” or Obama — it has been the system for decades. The health care system in this country is rigged, and the only way you can survive the cost is to join the game. Or, you can move to France.

Feb 07 2011

The Newbies Guide To Airstreaming

When you’re the editor of a magazine, or a serial novelist, or an egg-laying chicken, your workload tends to rise and fall as your products are eventually completed and released to the public. It’s a great relief when a particularly tricky project is finally completed and off the desk (or out of the henhouse, as the case may be). That’s where I find myself right now.

No, I don’t mean in a henhouse. I mean I am in the final stages of finishing a new project that I am particularly proud of: “The Newbies Guide To Airstreaming.” It is a 104-page book designed to give new Airstream owners a “quick start” to traveling, camping, and owning their shiny Airstream travel trailer.

I’ve been working on this book for about eight months, with help from a few friends. The job has been to collect as much useful and accurate information about Airstreams (how they work, how to maintain them, what to expect) and summarize it into a format that people will actually find useful. There’s lots of information out on the Internet, but much of it is based on conjecture, or just plain wrong. Likewise, the Owner’s Manual provided by Airstream is full of useful facts, but it’s very dense and certain important facts are well obscured, so few people actually bother to read it. Rather than having to search hard for the basics, new owners will now have an easy guide to the stuff they need to know first.

Right now the book is in the final draft stage. Review copies are being printed this week and will be fact-checked by a team of experts at Airstream and in the Airstream community. Once I have the review copies back, I can make the final edits and release the book.

I expect we’ll have it out by April 2011, and it will be for sale at the Airstream online store, the Airstream brick-and-mortar store in Jackson Center OH, Amazon.com, and select Airstream dealers, for just $9.95. (I worked hard to make sure we could keep the price reasonable.) You can pre-order it now in the Airstream Life store for April 2011 delivery. We’ll have a Kindle edition, too.

A lot of thought went into this project. In fact, I’ve been thinking about it for several years, ever since I first saw the Airstream Owners Manual. It’s a bit rough, and has needed some updating. I have a small collection of manuals ranging from 1968 to 2005, and each of them uses nearly the same wording in places, the same advice, and the same checklists. There are bits of advice that go back 40 or 50 years, some of which are timeless and others which are … uh, not so much.

From a recent manual: “Avoid cash. Use Travelers Checks …” “Pack camera and film.” Yeah, along with those traveler’s checks and film camera, be sure to pack a spittoon, typewriter, and spare buggy whip. These days people are more concerned with carrying the iPhone, Gameboy, and laptop. Film? What’s that?

Teasing aside, I have to tip my hat to the Owner’s Manual. It does have much more info in it than I could ever get into a 104 page book, so in a few places I’ve deferred to it. But in most of the book I gave my best shot at succinct, practical and tested answers to the most commonly-asked questions and typical “newbie” problems. That’s what made it fun — finding the best possible answers so that people can get up to speed on the Airstream as quickly as possible.

The book has sections on all kinds of newbie topics: understanding all the systems, camping, towing, solar & generators, maintenance, winterizing, simple repairs (like changing tires), packing, backing, dumping, filling, winter travel, Internet, cleaning, tools, myths, and a few sample checklists. I think one of the best parts is the “Jargon Guide,” with eight pages of definitions of commonly used terms that newbies have probably never heard before.

I’m also really excited about the wonderful illustrations in the book. Brad Cornelius, who has been a regular contributor to Airstream Life for years (and also designed the Alumapalooza art for 2010 and 2011) agreed to make over 30 illustrations for the book. You can see one of them in the sample page above (that’s me). Brad invented a pair of great little characters who demonstrate their Airstream as I explain things in the text. I like looking at the pages just to see what they’re up to.

So I’m feeling good about my project now. It took as long as making a baby, and the birthing process will probably be just as exhausting, but like a baby, it’s well worth the effort. If the book does well, I’ve already got plans for a sequel on “Advanced Airstreaming” to produce next year. Time to go start another egg …

Feb 03 2011

Winterizing in Tucson?

We have never winterized our Airstream Safari. We took delivery in October 2005 and from there on we made a point of keeping it out of winter weather. Sure, there were chilly nights below freezing on many occasions (usually at high altitude in places like Yosemite) but with the furnace or the catalytic heater running the trailer would never get anywhere near the freezing point.

Years before, when we lived in Vermont, “winterization day” was an unhappy day for me because it meant the end of the camping season. Winterization is the process of preparing the trailer for months of freezing, by removing all the water and replacing it with pink RV anti-freeze. Once you’ve done that, you’ve admitted that there’s no chance of going camping again for months. For me, up in Vermont, it meant the start of a long season of staring out the window at my poor Airstream, frozen over with snow and ice like a sad aluminum popsicle.

Once we bought a house in Tucson, I knew we were home free. Never again would I face the end of the season, because it doesn’t freeze here — much. I have not winterized a trailer in six years. Even on those occasion winter nights when the skies are clear and the wind is high, and the temperatures dip below freezing for a few hours, the Airstreams don’t get cold enough to require winterization.

And so you can imagine my consternation this week as Tucson, deep in the Sonoran Desert, is facing deep freezes three nights in a row this week. Not the mild sort of freeze we toy with for fun, just to be able to say, “Hey, it’s cold here too,” to our northern relatives, but a real frigid, put-on-the-long-johns kind of bitter cold that lasts all day and all night.

I know you folks up north and east aren’t too sympathetic, given that you’ve been getting pounded by snowstorms and all that stuff, but really, we can’t take it. Our house is a barely insulated stack of adobe blocks with drafty single pane windows. The cactus will die, the citrus will wilt, and worst of all our Airstreams aren’t winterized.

This horrible thought struck me this evening as we were heading for yet another cold night, this time all the way down to 20 degrees. No longer could I scoff at a light freeze — this is cold enough to turn the water pipes in our Airstreams into solid blocks of ice, splitting them open and causing all kinds of other damage. Just a little ice in the electric water pump is enough to wreck it. So this evening I grabbed an electric heater from the house and stuck it in the Airstream Safari that sits in our carport. Running all night, that 1500-watt unit should be enough to keep the interior of the trailer safely warm.

The Caravel, however, is away from home in a locked indoor storage facility. I debated whether to go over and give it a heater too, but eventually decided that the storage unit probably wouldn’t freeze … until about 11 p.m., at which point I couldn’t sleep for wondering if I could be wrong about the storage unit. Finally I got dressed and drove over to the storage facility with another heater, just to be on the safe side.

As it turned out, the interior of the Caravel was a balmy 43 degrees, but I was still glad I had gone over to give it a heater too. Tomorrow night we are expecting 18 degrees — another record low — and I think by then the storage unit will have chilled down quite a bit.

Well, at least it’s no worse than that. In a few days this strange weather episode will be part of meteorological history and I can go back to pretending that it never freezes here. I won’t have to buy RV anti-freeze and my record of never having winterized the Safari will remain intact. I guess there’s no place in the USA completely safe from freezes except Hawaii (and ironically there are no campgrounds there), but at least our frigid season is limited to just three days.

Jan 29 2011

Car and trailer shows

Although much of the rest of the country is frozen solid right now, it’s car show season in southern Arizona. Every couple of weeks there’s a small car show somewhere around Tucson, and about once a month there will be a fairly major one nearby. California has the reputation as being the state most crazy for collector cars, but here in southern Arizona we’re not far behind. We’ve got a lot of old retired guys with classic rides, and they love to show them off.

This weekend the big show was the Santa Cruz Valley Car Nuts’ annual show at Tubac Golf Resort, which is about 50 miles south of Tucson. I decided to enter the old Mercedes 300D because it was a way for me to get into the middle of the show with a picnic lunch and watch all the action. I didn’t think many people would give a hoot about a slow and squarish 1984 Mercedes, since at these shows most of the attention seems to go to hot rods, American muscle cars, and exotics.

And I was right. The car was mostly ignored, which gave me the opportunity to sit in my folding chair and read a book while occasionally glancing at the parade of people going by. Once in a while someone would point and smile at the car and I could hear them relating a tale of the “one we used to have just like that.” A lot of people used to have Mercedes cars like mine, which is not surprising since 2.7 million of them were made worldwide.

A few people took note of the car, but I wonder if any of them noticed that mine was the only Mercedes on the line bearing a “250,000 km” badge on the grill. That’s an honorary badge awarded by Mercedes Benz USA for very high-mileage cars. My next badge comes at 500,000 km (310,000 miles) and I hope to get that one someday too.

I was flattered when a guy came by and asked if I wanted to sell the car, because he wanted a nice example of an old Mercedes to drive around in Mazatlan, Mexico, where he had a house. I declined. I wasn’t looking to sell, just to have fun.

It is fun, just to be a small part of the spectacle. There were over 500 cars on display, ranging from a Nash Metropolitan to an Aston Martin Vanquish. You name it, it was there. Most of the cars were in excellent condition, but I was pleased to see that even people with interesting cars in poor condition came out to show the world what they had. It wasn’t just a show of garage queens. Some were obviously daily drivers.

Eleanor had made me a huge picnic basket with lunch, suitable for about five people. I had grilled chicken skewers, Israeli couscous, a sort of marinated tomato/zucchini/onion salad in a homemade dressing that I can’t even begin to describe adequately, a delicious homemade chutney, and Emma’s “rainy day” brownies with chopped nuts on top.

Since I had the opportunity for elegance, she also packed me a big blue tablecloth and cloth napkins. When lunchtime came around, I spread my tablecloth and hauled out the wicker basket, and invited my friend Charlie and his friend Flash to join me on the grass. More than a few people spotted our little picnic on the golf course next to the Mercedes cars and said, “Now, that’s the way to do it!”

Ken and Petey showed up with their 1955 GMC pickup and a 1947 teardrop called a “Tourette.” Most teardrop trailers were made of wood, but this one was made of aluminum. It’s remarkably intact and in good condition. I believe it was the only travel trailer at the show, and it got a lot of attention. Teardrop trailers were mostly made from kits, and there have been dozens (if not hundreds) of teardrop kit manufacturers over the past decades, so if you’ve never heard of a Tourette, join the club.

With spectacular weather (about 70 degrees and all sun), a fine golf course setting, hundreds of interesting cars, many more interesting people, and a fine picnic lunch, the day passed very quickly. I was surprised to realize it was 3 p.m. — I had been there for five hours. It was rather a shame to pack up and head out, but at least I had the compensation of a leisurely drive of 50 miles to get back home in a fine old German sedan on a beautiful day in beautiful southern Arizona.

I am really getting into this show thing. That’s part of the reason why I’ve been working for the past few months to curate another show, the Modernism Week “Vintage Trailer Show” sponsored by Airstream Life magazine. We are expecting 19 very interesting vintage trailers at that event:

1935 Bowlus Road Chief

1960 Airstream Caravel

1959 Airstream Globetrotter

1962 Airstream Flying Cloud

1962 Airstream Globe Trotter

1961 Airstream Bambi

1960 Holiday House

1950 Airfloat Landyacht

1973 Airstream Safari

1969 Airstream Tradewind

1957 Catolac DeVille

1948 Spartan Manor

1958 Airstream Caravanner

1936 Airstream Clipper

1948 Westcraft

1960 International Harvester Housecar

1965 Airstream Caravel

1955 Spartan Manor

1948 La Cosse Vacationer

If you are coming out to Palm Springs for Modernism Week this February, tickets for the Vintage Trailer Show can be purchased on-site at the Palm Springs Riviera Resort & Spa, Saturday and Sunday Feb 26-27. It should be quite a spectacle, with some very rare trailers open for tours, an Airstream “bar,” presentation of the new Airstream Life “Wally” award, vendors selling cool stuff, and a lot of fun. Maybe I’ll see you poolside at the Riviera?