The western myth of linear progress has me progressing along

Things are happening! It was a long cold winter. Building the cabinets helped pass the time but it wasn't until the warmer weather that things got chugging. Once the temperature reached 10C (50F) I was able to caulk all the seams as well as rivets. Yes, every rivet has been caulked on the inside of the trailer. Every seam, too. This baby ain't gonna leak, that is for sure. I'm sure I've used 10 or 15 tubes by now.

Partially completed

The 'camo' patch

Airstreams leak. Even though the mystery surrounding these trailers says otherwise, don't fall for it. Especially when they're 45 years old. The rear end of these trailers are particularly bad. I fixed the problem with a TON of caulking, added aluminum patches inside and out, and then did a little camouflage work with a cover patch. It worked out pretty well, I'd say.


A few other highlights! The badges are all on and the word "AIRSTREAM" is emblazoned fore and aft. The rock guard has been re-built and affixed over the front windows. The new AC arrived in record time and now sits on the roof. I had to make a few 'trusses' to keep the roof from sagging. Check them out! I thought it was an elegant solution.

Yesterday, I started applying insulation behind the front and rear end-caps. Ethan is here—and a good thing, too as he carried the AC up the ladder (70lbs—this lad has muscles) and helped press the rear-end cap into place.

Progress happens in tiny increments, day by day. I've been at this a year and a half and have started wondering what I'm going to do when the Airstream is completed. I'm sure my darling has been compiling a list, although I must say, I've kept up with the requests so far. I guess I can't spend all my time on the silver beast.

As far as the myth of linear progress, right now, I'm reveling in it. I have yet to make an error that demands I take stuff apart and start over. Jinxed? All appendages crossed, wood knocked and prayers to benevolent deities done.

You may have noticed there's no more silver paint on the aluminum. Another job completed!

Letters painted and clear coat applied.

I built the 'truss' out of aluminum stock and cut the wood on the bandsaw. It worked!

The trusses doing their job. 

Renovation in a time of Plague

Hello folks,

Well, thankfully it's not Bubonic or Black, but it's still a plague.

April 10 has arrived, and the snow is finally melting. The temperature was actually above freezing this morning. I guess I'll call the hit-men and cancel the contracts for all the gophers in the vicinity.  During the loooooong winter, I kept busy completing tasks that weren't weather dependent. To that end, I started building the cabinets. It's a fairly simple process—I had only a few boo boos that were easily remedied. Basically, make a box and then a face-plate. Of course, it helps to have a workshop with precision tools, the Kreg pocket hole jig, and lots of clamps (thank you Jim F). So today, I finished the doors. I have two cabinets remaining to be built, but I'll delay building those until I begin assembling the interior, specifically the bathroom vanity and the broom/coat closet.

With the warmer weather, I grabbed a few tools and completed a few tasks on the Airstream. The bolts holding the awning to the body were badly corroded. A little WD 40 later, I ratcheted them out. Good thing, too. The threads had begun crumbling. They were little more than 'super glue'. I replaced them with stainless steel nuts and bolts. That awning ain't never coming off.

When I was younger (OK, like 17) and doing crap carpentry, invariably a boss would say, "We're not making kitchen cabinets." In others words, hurry it up! Get that cut done! Tote that barge! Lift that bale! Well, the day has come when, yes, I was making kitchen cabinets. I took my time. The cabinets turned out better than anticipated. I even milled the oak for a custom fit. I know, I know, I shouldn't doubt myself but like most of this project, I had never built cabinets before. Precision is the key. Precision is all that matters. My wood mentor (Tommi) once said that the day would come when being out .5mm or 1/64 would be unacceptable. That is a good mantra to follow when making cabinets. It was actually a nifty challenge to strive for absolute accuracy. Sure, I'm out a 1000th here or there, but who's counting, right?

I have my doubts that there'll be any camping this summer. I don't think the Airstream would have been ready except as an aluminum tent. The C-19 plague will have us locked down longer than anticipated, is what I think. How are you doing? An unusual time, I think you'll agree. I've been listening to CBC (while building said cabinets). People are finding isolation difficult. I understand that. I lived alone for two years (just me and the dog) and I learned that solitude and loneliness are not the same. Self-isolation during this time isn't difficult for me, since I had an unintended time of training for the present scenario we find ourselves in. There's a lot of anxiety and fear out there. I feel for the folk who are in apartments with small kids—mine are grown and on their own; jobs lost; rent and mortgage stress. When I'm tempted to get anxious, I think about the trajectory of my dad's life. He was born two years into World War One, in Russia, of all places. When he was one, the Revolution happened. What a way to start life, right? My dad's family emigrated to Canada in the mid 1920s—no easy task, I'll tell you, especially with a guy like Stalin in charge. They nearly didn't make it. Dad was a teenager during the Great Depression. He lived through World War Two. If he ever had any anxiety about anything, I never saw it. He didn't talk much about his past but his example lives on.

Take care, out there. We hope to see you on the road, someday.

More winter? Not so happy.

Gluing face of cabinet to the carcass

The basic idea (expect for the grain mix-up. Might be fixing that before installation...)

Airstream cabinet Tetris.

Crappy corroded ancient galvanized screws

Snappy brand new stainless steel bolts and nuts.

Enough caulking to deny even the most tenacious drop of water.

And We're Back At it!

With the onset of winter, the Airstream has taken the back seat. Mostly because of the cold. We had a spell of -40 F/C a few weeks ago. Prior to that the days were usually in the negative double digits but the Pineapple Express arrived this week and with warmer temperatures, I've returned to the Silver Bullet. It also helps that SNP lent me his ice-fishing propane heater. It's a three burner unit: I could probably work in my bathing suit, the contraption has that much heat.

For the past year, I've been wrapping my head around 12 volt wiring. At first, everything electrical seemed like tossing chicken bones and divination but after much study and letting the information ruminate in my head, I've had success.

Life With Wire.

First success: all the exterior 7-pin wiring works!

New rear lights.

I have to say, the new marker lights look grand. It's amazing how new plastic lights gave the trailer a million dollar face-lift. Upon the advice of an electrician friend, I wired each light with its own ground, bolted to the body. There is no way in Gehenna that I'll ever have a short.

Now that the exterior wiring is complete, it's time to start the interior. I had nightmares about this a few months ago, but finally came to realize that wiring happens one circuit at a time, meaning there's no need to get overwhelmed: complete said circuit and then move on to the next. Sure, one needs to calculate amp draw, AWG required, distance, voltage drop, etc...sounds like more chicken bones and divination, right? Nah. Actually, not that difficult. ORGANIZATION IS THE KEY. Something I learned in university, a looooooooong time ago.

Take a look at the fan: it works!

Once the wiring is complete, then the interior needs to be sealed with Sikaflex 221, but I'll need a stretch of warmer weather for it to properly cure. Then, a whole huge pile of things need to be completed before the insulation in installed. After insulation, interior skins! Then, paint and build the furniture.

A trip this summer? I'm not promising anything, but it might just happen.