We interrupt this self-centered blog to talk about someone else's cool vintage trailer.
Let me back up: How many vintage trailers do think there are out on the road? 10%? 5%? I had not really thought to ponder this question before I headed out on the road. I was buoyed by the lovely community of trailer lovers on the internet. I guess, had you asked me, I would have thought, say >10%.
Sit down, Love. It's bad news.
Real bad news.
Based on the 1,500+ miles thus far, the answer seems to be .0000000001%.
Really. No! I would not joke about something so sad. SAD.
By the time we pull into Moab we have seen a grand total or 3 aluminum trailers, all Airstreams, btw. And one was not even on the road! The world is chock full of toxic white boxes... it's utterly dismaying. Where, O, Where are my vintage kin?
The picturesque and well-thought out Canyonlands Campground in Moab yielded pretty much the same story. Row after Row of White Squares. (Well, being Moab, it was also peppered with ATV's, 4 x4 Jeeps and dirt bikes.)
Anyhoo, shortly after hook-up Tiff comes back from some campground errand in a happy flap.
"Vintage trailer!" she trills.
"Tell!" Mary and I demand.
"Orange and navy and super-super-tiny!! The name plate says 'Boler'".
"Ooooooooohhhhhhh," we coo.
"And." She pauses. "It's called 'The Ritz'!"
We. Must. Meet. These. People.
Thus on fire, we stalk the absent owners for the next few hours as we set up and sink into camp. It's our first dry night and we are pulling out all our rabbits: chairs, tablecloth, BBQ pod, lots of Orla on display. Finally, finally!, I walk over and see lights in the now-falling darkness.
Well, specifically, I see a headlamp focused on a book and a small dot glowing on the end of a cigar. Like some teen all star-struck I start babbling my trailer admiration. The Dot introduces himself as Moki and out of the trailer pops Annie Lennox.
Ok, not the real Annie Lennox, but if Annie Lennox was a vintage trailer/ jeeping enthusiast dressed in REI chic, it could have been her. Annie's real name is Chris. Cool!
But first, back to The Ritz itself. It's like a pod of candy. A marble-sized doll house. I cannot wait to get inside. After some mumbling about "housekeeping", which absolutely cracks me up because this thing really is the size of a marble so I'm thinking, Yeah, right, go blow the dust out in one poof!, they let me in. The. Inside. Is. JUST. AS. COOL!
Surprisingly, it has lots more going on than the small size would have you guess. Good layout: a table area flanked by benches on one end, a kitchen and closets in the middle and bunk beds in the other end. The table area converts to a full size bed but with the IT department being housed under the table they rarely bother. (They self identify as "small people"!)
And here is the good news ya'll: It quickly becomes clear that even if there is a real dearth of vintage trailers in the world, and I do mean dearth, if the owners are all even half as cool as Chris and Moki, I'm A-OK with that. It's enough. It's dazzling. It's perfect the way it is. A small, well-vetted club with a surplus of cool.
I always have preferred Quality to Quantity.
Let me back up: How many vintage trailers do think there are out on the road? 10%? 5%? I had not really thought to ponder this question before I headed out on the road. I was buoyed by the lovely community of trailer lovers on the internet. I guess, had you asked me, I would have thought, say >10%.
Sit down, Love. It's bad news.
Real bad news.
Based on the 1,500+ miles thus far, the answer seems to be .0000000001%.
Really. No! I would not joke about something so sad. SAD.
By the time we pull into Moab we have seen a grand total or 3 aluminum trailers, all Airstreams, btw. And one was not even on the road! The world is chock full of toxic white boxes... it's utterly dismaying. Where, O, Where are my vintage kin?
The picturesque and well-thought out Canyonlands Campground in Moab yielded pretty much the same story. Row after Row of White Squares. (Well, being Moab, it was also peppered with ATV's, 4 x4 Jeeps and dirt bikes.)
Anyhoo, shortly after hook-up Tiff comes back from some campground errand in a happy flap.
"Vintage trailer!" she trills.
"Tell!" Mary and I demand.
"Orange and navy and super-super-tiny!! The name plate says 'Boler'".
"Ooooooooohhhhhhh," we coo.
"And." She pauses. "It's called 'The Ritz'!"
We. Must. Meet. These. People.
Thus on fire, we stalk the absent owners for the next few hours as we set up and sink into camp. It's our first dry night and we are pulling out all our rabbits: chairs, tablecloth, BBQ pod, lots of Orla on display. Finally, finally!, I walk over and see lights in the now-falling darkness.
Well, specifically, I see a headlamp focused on a book and a small dot glowing on the end of a cigar. Like some teen all star-struck I start babbling my trailer admiration. The Dot introduces himself as Moki and out of the trailer pops Annie Lennox.
Ok, not the real Annie Lennox, but if Annie Lennox was a vintage trailer/ jeeping enthusiast dressed in REI chic, it could have been her. Annie's real name is Chris. Cool!
But first, back to The Ritz itself. It's like a pod of candy. A marble-sized doll house. I cannot wait to get inside. After some mumbling about "housekeeping", which absolutely cracks me up because this thing really is the size of a marble so I'm thinking, Yeah, right, go blow the dust out in one poof!, they let me in. The. Inside. Is. JUST. AS. COOL!
Surprisingly, it has lots more going on than the small size would have you guess. Good layout: a table area flanked by benches on one end, a kitchen and closets in the middle and bunk beds in the other end. The table area converts to a full size bed but with the IT department being housed under the table they rarely bother. (They self identify as "small people"!)
And here is the good news ya'll: It quickly becomes clear that even if there is a real dearth of vintage trailers in the world, and I do mean dearth, if the owners are all even half as cool as Chris and Moki, I'm A-OK with that. It's enough. It's dazzling. It's perfect the way it is. A small, well-vetted club with a surplus of cool.
I always have preferred Quality to Quantity.
Lemme tell ya just a smidge about Chris and Moki, and I know you will love them as much as I do. Here is their deal. Chris has a very intense job as a ICU nurse. She is a mobile nurse, meaning she works through agencies that place nurses where they are needed across the US. She picks and chooses her gigs based on where they are. They home base outta Arizona. They are currently 1,600 miles into a 600 mile trip over to California. Yes, I meant to type that. And yes, you read it correctly. They are living the dream, ya'll. They found a way to make it work. She is well-paid and has a damn tough job. But she only has it part of the time. In bursts. Then she gets to reconnect to her passions, her internal battery, and stay sane. Moki, in her words, "Gives me this life I love. He allows me to have it. I am so lucky." He runs the care and feeding of the logistics and makes sure that they play as hard as she has to work. She does the on-the-floor stuff that pays bills.
Now, in case we have any cynics, let me just say this is not some new thing for them. They have been perfecting it for 20 years. (Obviously, they met as infants.) He is Gomez to her 'Tish a la Addams Family.
Sexy.
And they still make googly eyes at each other. They are both absolutely beautiful. And so much style. They love each other! I love them!
Again, it's Quality, people, that makes The Ritz The Ritz.
Now, in case we have any cynics, let me just say this is not some new thing for them. They have been perfecting it for 20 years. (Obviously, they met as infants.) He is Gomez to her 'Tish a la Addams Family.
Sexy.
And they still make googly eyes at each other. They are both absolutely beautiful. And so much style. They love each other! I love them!
Again, it's Quality, people, that makes The Ritz The Ritz.
RSS Feed