On the bottom-front page of today's Press-Enterprise was this popular-culture article about a resurgence of teardrop trailer camping.
We used that camping trailer for many years, then most of the family moved to Lake Tahoe where they did not need to go camping to enjoy the outdoors. I was out on my own by then, and my dad offered the unused teardrop trailer to me. I loved that trailer, but I was renting my aunt's beachfront duplex in Newport Beach, where parking--let alone trailer storage--was at a premium. I lovingly took care of that trailer for many years--but never found an opportunity to actually use it until after I married and Duane was born. Marya, Duane and I towed it to the Salton Sea one week-end--after nearly burning up the electrical system on my car while
connecting the trailer lights. We tried to relax in the very hot sun but the baby got sun-burned and the foul smell of the Salton Sea got to us.
On the only other trip I recall with my young family, we drove up the coast route California 1. But I don't believe that we actually slept in the trailer. It was raining as we drove up the coast, with rocks falling from the cliffs down to the roadway. The weight of the teardrop trailer on the car meant that road-clearance at the trailer hitch was so minimal, that I was frequently driving around fallen rocks. A couple of times, I remember stopping the car, and removing rocks by hand before I could drive on. Then when we got to Big Sur--trying to relive the wild pig experience--all campsites were under water. We
stayed in a motel in Monterrey that evening--under the flight path of the local airport. We day-camped on a local beach then drove to Lake Tahoe to visit my family. The trip back to Southern Cal had the trailer lights shorting-out. So rather than drive at night, we slept in a rest-area inside the car. The next morning our baby was vomiting, requiring a visit to an emergency room.
Our parents purchased a used teardrop trailer about 1960. It had been hand-built and first registered in 1942. I found these two pictures of our adventures; we also used a 1955 red (and black) Pontiac station wagon. I think that is my sister Lynne in the one picture. As I recall, our parents slept in the back of the station wagon, and three sisters slept in the teardrop. Originally, the four boys--Mike and I bracketing our younger brothers Tony and Frank--slept on a tarp.
Then, immediately after that pesky wild-boar incident at Big Sur, the boys had a 4-man tent to keep us from being bothered by night-time animal marauders. By immediately, I mean within 12 hours the tent had been purchased and set-up in camp. Actually, the only casualty the night before was one foam curler 
missing a bite and finding the shoes that brave older-brother threw at the wild pigs--against the advice of my brother Mike. But the incident magically produced a tent for any further camping. This incident causes extensive laughter from any family member whenever it is brought up.
missing a bite and finding the shoes that brave older-brother threw at the wild pigs--against the advice of my brother Mike. But the incident magically produced a tent for any further camping. This incident causes extensive laughter from any family member whenever it is brought up.We used that camping trailer for many years, then most of the family moved to Lake Tahoe where they did not need to go camping to enjoy the outdoors. I was out on my own by then, and my dad offered the unused teardrop trailer to me. I loved that trailer, but I was renting my aunt's beachfront duplex in Newport Beach, where parking--let alone trailer storage--was at a premium. I lovingly took care of that trailer for many years--but never found an opportunity to actually use it until after I married and Duane was born. Marya, Duane and I towed it to the Salton Sea one week-end--after nearly burning up the electrical system on my car while
connecting the trailer lights. We tried to relax in the very hot sun but the baby got sun-burned and the foul smell of the Salton Sea got to us. On the only other trip I recall with my young family, we drove up the coast route California 1. But I don't believe that we actually slept in the trailer. It was raining as we drove up the coast, with rocks falling from the cliffs down to the roadway. The weight of the teardrop trailer on the car meant that road-clearance at the trailer hitch was so minimal, that I was frequently driving around fallen rocks. A couple of times, I remember stopping the car, and removing rocks by hand before I could drive on. Then when we got to Big Sur--trying to relive the wild pig experience--all campsites were under water. We
stayed in a motel in Monterrey that evening--under the flight path of the local airport. We day-camped on a local beach then drove to Lake Tahoe to visit my family. The trip back to Southern Cal had the trailer lights shorting-out. So rather than drive at night, we slept in a rest-area inside the car. The next morning our baby was vomiting, requiring a visit to an emergency room.We were so upset with ourselves for putting him in peril. But Duane had the final laugh. In those days, anyone returning to the LA basin would always notice the foul air--you could see it and smell it. As we were dropping back into the LA basin, Marya and I had this same conversation. But I could not accept that the air smelled so bad; I suggested that she should check Duane's diaper. She insisted that the smell was smog. I persisted that she should check diapers. When she finally did turn-around to check the back-seat, the vision was one out of a new parent's (and new car owner's) nightmare: the white Naugahyde upholstery had been thoroughly painted with brown stuff.
We continued to care for the trailer for years, even moving it with us to Maryland when General Electric transferred us to Bethesda. We pulled it across the country, but since Marya was very pregnant with our second child (Gary), we stayed in motels the entire way. In Georgia, one of the tires blew on Interstate 85, but I almost didn't notice. Remember that this trailer was hand-made and the tongue weight was excessive at about 70% of the trailer weight. Therefore, I had no problem controlling the car. We left the trailer on the side of the road and took the wheel into the next town. This was in 1969, ... on a Sunday, ... in the Southern US, ... remember the Blue-laws? Nothing was open for business--except minimum service gas stations. But I ran into a farmer that had the identical sized tire in the back of his pick-up. He was going to have it re-treaded. We struck a deal (tire and rim, therefore avoiding tire mounting) and I had a tire with very little tread--but it held air.
We never used the camping trailer in Maryland. The family expanded to three kids under the age of 5. Those are not ideal conditions to take the family camping. The winters were taking a toll on the trailer. Moisture got inside and got the mattress wet. Seams started to leak. Then the apartment management decided that we could not keep it there anymore. We advertised it in the local Pennysaver-style publication for $75 figuring we could always reduce the price. (My dad had purchased it 10 years previously for $125; it was a 30 year-old hand-made trailer.) Were we ever surprised. Before the Pennysaver was delivered, we started getting calls to see it. We sold it very quickly for the full asking price. The purchaser paid us and made arrangements to pick-up the trailer later. We did not succumb to subsequent offers to pay us more than the asking price if we would renege on the first purchaser. We could not believe the excitement that this old trailer created.
The purchaser told us that the dear teardrop trailer would probably live out its days on a piece of undeveloped mountain property they owned.
One thing I learned early in our marriage, after the first camping trip with my wife, was that while she accommodated my desire to live with nature ... her idea of camping was a houseboat with the air-conditioner going. We did that many times while our kids were growing up, but never camped again.
Praise God for great experiences and memories.
Don
No comments:
Post a Comment