Don't you hate it when people take up an obviously expensive hobby and then complain about how damn much money it costs? Yeah me, too. So quit reading if it really bugs you, because the money is flowing into the trailer at an alarming rate.

A better way to look at it is by taking stock of how much I got done with the help of my "Trailer Angel Team" lead by the amazing Gary. Gary's brother Len owns a RV/ Trailer supply place. When I called to whimper for help, Len told me that with it being Memorial Day week-end, he was just swamped. This was shortly after we got home from the hospital on Thursday and I was realizing how much deep shit I was in if I actually want to pull off this trailer odyssey. I must have sounded truly terrified/ weenie/ incompetent because he told me Gary was retired but that he might be able to help me. Well THANK GOD for Gary. He is amazing. One of the trailer people on Yahoo told me that I would meet wonderful people, Angels dressed as mere mortals, who would show up just when I needed them. Umm, truthfully, I thought she was a little crystal/ woo woo if you know what I mean. But nooooo, she was so right it's crazy. 

Gary is breathtakingly competent. He knows all about all kinds of trailers and has the additional trait of being both calm and funny. SOLD on Gary. Yesterday he helped me move the trailer from the storage place to my parents driveway. Ya'll. Seriously. This dude is a trailer bad-ass! He drove it out and over like it was a Mini-Cooper. Popped it right into the driveway, right where we asked for it, on the first try. And then casually mentioned that the brakes on the trailer were not working. I stand in awe. 

Gary gave me a list of things to buy and told me he'd be back in the morning. 
While this is all going on, I am remembering how lethally allergic to Oregon I am. I'm having a sinus/ allergy attack that is killing me. My drainage is so awful I can't even swallow liquids without it hurting. So, I manage to buy the things Gary told me to get, crawl into bed and sleep in an attempt to ward off further sinus cooties.
No such luck. I can't even sleep. And the pressure is mounting because I have 2 weeks worth of stuff to do in, oh, 3 days.  So I drink my tea with lemon and force myself to be well.
 
Today Angel Gary showed up, got the trailer brakes, lights and several other things working. I hate to sound star struck, but, really, this guy can fix anything. Meanwhile, I am scrambling around trying to help, but probably just more in the way than anything else. Gary patiently put me on jobs like washing light covers and scraping cruddy old sealing tape (that stopped sealing around 1980) off of tail lights.

Enter my second Angel. My parents have the sweetest neighbors ever, the Kennedys. They share their garden crops. They unfailingly wave. They are just Good People, if you know what I mean. They also own a Father & Son painting business. So in anticipation of my short schedule I had asked Rick ,"Father", if Jeff ,"Son", might want to come help me with the trailer while I was here. So Jeff, who is a hoot, just funny and upbeat, shows up and says "What can I do?" As Gary was on the priority task of oh, you know, roadworthiness, I got Jeff to help me by doing some repairs, such as whipping up a new bottom for a drawer that had rotted out. Sa-weet! Tomorrow Jeff is going to help me wash the beastie, head to toe. 

Meanwhile, I had realized that since I can hardly breathe, it was unlikely that cleaning a dusty trailer was going to be something I could do justice to. So I had my Mom call Betsy, her amazing friend and Cleaning Lady, and general wonderful person (remember the horror movie scene? Betsy.) Betsy came over and cleaned with a vengeance. She scrubbed, vacuumed, and wiped down every surface. 

Behold: My trailer is roadworthy, spotless, and gets a bath tomorrow. 

Meanwhile, I went and bought more supplies, like contact paper for drawers and cupboards, and other such items, and then went and got windshield wipers on the van. 

Now, it has been a very expensive day. But worth it, worth it, worth it. 

So, money be damned, I went and splurged on a luxury- an updated console for the radio in the van. I know, I know, I know. Not technically mandatory. But, come on. How the HELL can anyone drive 2,500 miles without decent music? Now we have an aux jack and can plug in ipods and rock out. 

If I can get my head off the pillow, that is. I still feel terrible. But, thanks to the Trailer Angel Team, lead by Gary, I'm in a good place. 

Hello from Oregon. Yesterday was Quite the Day.

Let's just say that after I had been in the air for 6 hours on 2 different flights and waited at PDX for an hour, my mom arrived at the airport in near tears. My Daddy who had a skin cancer spot removed from his face recently was "bleeding". He was home. I called his doctor in the car and the nurse and I talked and she said that some bleeding was normal, so I told her I'd see what things looked like when I got to the house.
 
Well.

We arrived home to what looked like a scene from a freakin' horror movie. Sweet Jesus. Blood everywhere in trails and my poor Daddy just miserable, drenched, absolutely drenched, in blood on the couch.

I called the doctor back and gulped "NOT normal, Mayday, Mayday, coming your way NOW" and bundled up and headed to the hospital.  Sparing you the gorier details, suffice to say it was not as serious as it looked, and the doctor was able to stop the bleeding and re- bandage fairly quickly. The downside was Dad had lost quite a bit of blood so hemoglobin levels, etc had to be checked. After visiting 2 doctors and a lab we arrived home very spent.

At this point I was feeling overwhelmed. I mean, my God, my Dad was very weak, my Mom very freaked out, and somehow, over a "holiday" week-end, no less, I was going to figure out a 33 foot 60-year old trailer?

20 hours after I had woken up, I was finally back in bed, trying to process. And you know what? I realized that though it had certainly been a very trying day, it was actually OK.

I thought about all of the people who had helped us. The nurses, doctors, the adorable cleaning lady who coincidentally had shown up to clean the house as we were bundling Dad up and who proceeded to clean up a nightmare of a scene. The security guard who got Daddy into a wheelchair and took him up to the doctor. The lab people who hurried through the tests. And even the people who helped me at the airport and along the way before my day got really weird. And I realized, people are kind. It's ok to find the grace in needing help. And, amazingly, help is out there.

And I then proceeded to pass out for 12 hours, which further helped my POV.

Upon waking, I decided that "People Are Kind", PAK, is my new motto. And I went on to have a fantastic day thrift shopping for kitchen items for my trailer, hitting Target, and having lunch with my college freind Betsy.

So much to be grateful for.

In that way that the final days before a big event seem to develop a momentum of their own, I am inching closer to the vortex. 

And suddenly, it is the night before my trip and I am packing and doing the obligatory freakin' out. 

Everyone keeps asking, "Aren't you EXCITED?!" and I'm thinking, "OMGOMGOMG I can't breathe, OMGOMGOMG", and I'm shrugging and actually saying, "Yeah, yeah, sure, of course I'm excited.". No terror here, no siree. Absolutely A-OK. 

But in fact, I am feeling that calm that washes over one once the plane takes off and if you've forgotten something you are simply resigned to paying 10X to buy it all over again it in Paris/ Cabo San Lucas/ the Piggly Wiggly. 

So, what exactly am I toting to Oregon? Well, the suitcase with trailer related gear looks pretty odd. I had a brief conversation with Tiffany about if I should write a note to TSA to try to provide reasonable explanation for a solar panel, flashlights galore, shark vacuum cleaner, rainex wipes for the windshield, half a dozen maps, 3 clipboards with random trailer checklists and advice, and of course, a beautiful 2- tier Orla Kiely serving tray & door mat & tablecloth among other really misc items such as pipe cleaners and an unopened box to tin foil. 

Y-eah. 

Tiffany and I stared into the bag and concluded any explanation would make little more sense than the contents, so we scrapped that idea and I look forward to getting the little note telling me TSA searched my bag.  I'm sure they will conclude that if I am, in fact, a lunatic terrorist I am indeed a stylish one. Thanks Orla! 

I tried to mix up taking what fit in the suitcase so I don't have to buy it again (tin foil) with what I can get at my parents or the local Target/ Walmart. My Target/ Walmart list includes the cooler, lawn chairs, method dryer sheets (for freshening up musty cabinets), sheets, stick up LED lights, zip locks in every conceivable size, bug spray/ sunscreen, and one of those emergency road sets with reflective triangles and flares. 

This random list is largely brought to you by all my fabulous fellow geeks at the Vintage Trailer Group on Yahoo, who have been holding hands with me and politely trying to help save me from myself. 

The outstanding advice, though, I must say was the simplest: "It will follow you." So, my little rolling party, van, trailer and, yes, tin foil are gonna be just fine. 

Woo Boy. The thrill of the cake now behind me, I have to say The Trip is looming large. Which is both thrilling and ummm... well, alarming, quite frankly. 

I may have, I dunno, mentioned in passing that I don't know really what I'm doing. Umm. No, really. This is unlikely to be a funny post, for the exact reason that technical ain't funny. Probably why I can't abide much of it. I mean, I'm not a lost cause, but I'm also pretty much outta my comfort zone. 

Deep breath. Let's be positive. Things I have done to prepare include pretty much the obvious and rational. Had new tires put on both trailer and tow vehicle last Summer. Had the wheels checked. Skylights had rotted so got those replaced. Van got a "check up" and had fluid changed and some small issues touched up. Checked frames on both trailer and van for rust or decay- looks good. Van has been garaged so looks great, actually. Will have trailer brakes and lights hooked up and tested before departure. 

Letsee, I also planned the route as carefully as possible- no more than about 400 miles a day, usually less. Got AAA triptic. Double-checked route with Trailer Life Directory's route planner, which assures me "no low bridges, weight restrictions, or hair-pin turns." Whew. Let's hope they freakin' deliver because just typing "hair-pin turn" made me sweat. Made reservations for RV Parks that feature my favorite campground amenity, Pull-Thru Spots.

My real precaution against bad road voodoo was carefully enlisting girlfriends who are known for their tenacity, common-sense, and most importantly, sense of humor. It is critical that all crew members have the ability to think waiting on the side of the road for AAA to show up while planning what exactly to say to AAA, is, in fact, the makings of a good story, and a reason for all involved to eat pie at the very next opportunity. 

Otherwise, Welcome to Wing-n-Prayer, a time honored way of approaching life's big adventures. 

I really, really did try to be more... thorough. I have been earnestly reading all kinds of web groups on the subject of vintage trailers for months. I am astonished at the knowledge and general coolness of the hard-core trailer folks. The only thing is: I usually can only roughly understand about 1/2 of what they are talking about. I feel like a high school kid at a college lecture- unsure what to take notes on, so write (um, print) out anything you think you might need. The result is a good tree's worth of critical information... which is largely incomprehensible to me. 

I'm holding my head in my hands. I know, I know. It's ridiculous. But really- be honest- do you know what a "grease buddy" is any why "those don't fit (Spartans)"? Or what a cotter pin is? Castle nut? Drum? Studs? Ummm, if you do, what are you doing the first half of June and can I call you? Because I don't exactly know why I think it will make any more sense to me in the throes of an emergency. 

Awww, Hell. Wind, meet Caution. Caution, Wind. 

Let's roll.

Al-righty. Let's talk about this ole trip plan in detail. 
We are set to leave Salem, OR on June 2 and drive like hell to Boise, UT on Day 1. Why? Because we'll be full of fire and ready to feel like we are on a Road Trip already.

After a quick night in Boise, it's off to Salt Lake City, UT. Actually, Provo, UT. My fabulous friend Roma (yes, my daughter is named Roma, too. But this Roma is all growed up.) lives there in her ancestral home. That's a polite way of saying she is back at her parents while she's finishing up design school. And trust me: she is amazing at anything visual even without the formal-ness of an education, so we are all waiting to see what kinda kick-ass she lets loose on the world once she is “qualified”.

Anyhoo, Roma will be waiting with open arms, real showers and a bed-under-a-real-roof per camper for the night. Thanks Mom and Dad! Awesome. You are never too old to have your kids' friends come crash, raid the fridge and generally wreak havoc on your otherwise peaceful home. Hell, we can even spin some laundry. So, we will spend an extra day there, hopefully hitting the local farmer's market and gabbing up a storm.

From there it is on to Moab, UT, where we will pose as capable outdoor adventure enthusiasts. Or at least I will. Mary and Tiffany are the kinda gals who actually own Tevo sandals. I am not.

I do love the outdoors- but I'm pretty much a picnic-and-light-hike type. My girlfriend Laura, who will be on the trip, calls what we like “glam-ping”. (Glamour camping) Meaning: I need a pretty trailer to sleep in at the end of the day and pas de bugs, pleese. Style, baby, style.

Then it's off to Canon City, Co, where we will soak up the vintage ambiance at the Starlite (do I dare to make it hot? Yes, I do dare. The Starlite!) and spend another day enjoying beautiful country.

Next stop, Albuquerque, NM. Have you ever been there? It's charming and the food is amazing. It's like being on vacation in a movie. Great cafes, art- it just exudes cool and hip. Of course, we have to linger there a day, too. Maybe zip over to Santa Fe and admire the Southwest chic.

Albuquerque to Lubbock, TX, where my friend Anna owns Little Red Riding Hood, a nursery/ plant boutique so special it was featured in Southern Living magazine. Ya'll, to a Southerner that's like being on Oprah. It means you are much higher quality than other folks.

And yes, I do know truly amazing women. I'm so damn lucky. C'mon, don't be jealous! Join us! We luvvv other cool people!!

From Lubbock to Austin- Wimberly, TX,- actually. My in-laws will welcome us with the aforementioned creature comforts we last had in Salt Lake City. MOOOOM! I'm Home!!

Then it's just a scoot back to Houston, where my friend Nichole (yes, also amazing, bien sur) has graciously allowed me to homestead the trailer on her 14 acre property until the Fall when it will be cool enough to even think about it again.

10 days. A whole bunch a friends, family and general coolness. I can't wait!

Let's jump this plot line ahead. This ole trailer blog needs a change of scenery. So... let's do this thing already. The Beautiful Beast is scheduled to roll outta Salem, Oregon on the morning of June 2.

That's right. No more nail biting. No more damn reasons why this does not make fiscal sense, I can't leave my daughter, etc. Hell, if I'm waiting for the "right time" both the trailer and I will go back to the earth the ugly way. 

I blame/ credit my friend Anjanette. On a trip to the beach she got me all riled up about the trailer trip, peppering me with questions and claiming she would drive the damn thing herself. Now, I know Anj, and seriously: she is triple booked at all times. Nooo wayy that gal was gonna find 10 days to meander across the mountains in a fine land yacht. 

But the fire was lit. So I started called the squad (remember my Chickens with Black Belts?) and demanded, "Well?!". Active recruiting had began. 

About a week later, I woke up in a cold sweat. 2,500+ miles. Through the mountains. With people who TRUST me. When I have no, zilch, nada idea how to pull this off. 

Desperate, hushed phone calls ensued. 

My new recruits were stunningly unimpressed with my attempts to derail this thing. In fact, they all basically told ME to Go to Hell if I thought of changing the plan at this juncture. Git off the phone with them, they said, put on the proverbial Big Girl Panties (that ones for you, Janell) and start mapping the route and booking the campgrounds. Qwit. Yer. Bitchin. 

So, it's On. My darling cousin Tiffany is in for the whole enchilada. Laura will see us off the west coast. Mary will pop over in time for what AAA calls "Indian Country". My girlfriend Roma in Utah has real beds and showers for us when we show up. And Alex R. will fly in to Albuquerque full of enthusiasm and spunk to get us through the Lubbock- Austin- Home piece. 

Wheee.... 10 days, a passel of gals, a vintage trailer, and the open road... this outta be GOOD.