Bridge Bay

It started with a voicemail. “Eh, hi Mr. Hansen, this is Jamie from E-Z Storage. We have sold our building, so you need to remove your Airstream trailer by August 1^st. Give me a call at your earliest opportunity. Have a nice day.”  “Shit!”  “Where am I going to find indoor storage that isn’t a fortune?” I exhaled out loud. We had purchased it for our 25^th anniversary thirteen years ago. It had gone on four trips to Yellowstone-one of them by a friend that wanted to rent it for a week to take his family on vacation. Most of its life was stationary in a storage lot and half of that was luckily indoors. I had considered selling it for a variety of reasons. We haven’t had a vehicle to tow it for six-years, so it stayed parked. Finances had been tight the last several years, so between the payment and storage costs it has been a real challenge keeping it. I was conflicted because owning one had been a childhood dream and because it was on an automatic pay, I could justify it like some sort of distorted alimony payment. Airstream wants you to think they have excellent resale value because they are so iconic and special; problem is that isn’t true so I might as well just keep paying storage… 

There were so many fond memories associated with camping in general and Airstream’s in particular that the exasperation of locating storage, finding transportation and arranging service was evolving into a pleasurable trip down memory-lane. As I continued pondering it; the anxiety was slowly morphing into an eagerness. Finances had improved so maybe we could actually enjoy it. As a kid I was introduced to both camping and Airstream’s, and carried that love forward into adulthood. My wife Lisa and I spent our honeymoon camping in Yellowstone and took our boys there as little children. We returned ten-years ago, with our now young men and had the trip of a lifetime. This was the last road trip the family made. “Why are we paying for something that sits in storage” I thought. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted it, no, needed it. Before I started Googling campgrounds in Yellowstone, I would need to find a rental capable of towing it anywhere. Lisa had assured me that rentals were plentiful, but I didn’t believe her. Sure enough, she was right. After a short search, the rental was secured for the needed date to move the Airstream. Because it had been out of service so long, a thorough inspection was required. Any trailer needs regular maintenance; spring get-ready for travel and fall for prolonged frigid storage as well as general upkeep, but in this case, it had been six-years since its last service. We bought it from a large RV center that represented dozens of brands, including Airstream. Their inventory was maybe three or four units, which pales compared to the other brands they sold, so we were fortunate that they had the model we wanted. This dealer was long-gone; replaced several years ago by a dedicated Airstream dealer with a full-service department. I was happy but anxious about this. I knew these trailers are unique and had certain peculiarities that an un-trained eye wouldn’t see; and they are expensive, so any repairs are costly.  The appointment was made. 

At the truck rental counter, I realized it had been six-years since I towed anything significant and it was with a Cadillac Escalade. That was big, but these new trucks are massive, so the thought of piloting this and pulling a 28’ trailer was a little disconcerting. When we entered the storage yard on Saturday morning, there it sat in all its aluminum glory. It was the only thing it the yard-almost like an orphan, all the others had left for their new storage homes. It was dirty and the tires were almost flat. I had brought a small rechargeable pump to fill the tires if they were low and although it did an admirable job, they needed a lot more air. The propane tanks needed filling too. It was funny in a sad sort of way; we had owned this trailer for thirteen years and had never used enough propane that we were required to refill them. The other reality was a law stating tanks older than 10-years must be recertified, so this landed on our to-do-list for the day. By the end of the day, my reluctance in hiring a rental had disappeared. In five hours, we had picked up the Airstream, filled the tires, went to a truck wash, found a propane station getting the tank both certified and filled and finally depositing it in our condo parking lot. Inside, it was enjoyable rummaging through all the nick knacks left behind. Forgotten CD’s, pictures and the cowboy hats we always wore were lovingly stowed away-just waiting… When I returned the truck; seeing I drove only 20 miles, they offered a 10% discount on my next rental. Bonus I thought; rather than claiming it for another daily rental of $120 to take the Airstream to service, I would use it for my potential vacation which would be 1200 miles. I also appreciated that even though renting seemed expensive, it was a hell of a lot less than buying this truck just to use it three or four times a year. The last piece of the puzzle was new storage. I could schedule everything so I wouldn’t require storage until our return, but I needed the right place. As luck would have it, I found a perfect spot just down the road from the Airstream service center. It wasn’t indoors like the last space, but it was also half the price and more convenient. 

Yellowstone is popular; it receives almost 4 million visitors a year so finding a site was a long shot.  I searched August and September for campsites accommodating the Airstream with zero success. There are 8 campgrounds in Yellowstone that except reservations and the only sites available were for tents. Two options kept popping up during all my searches though; reservations for next year and a “800” help number. Disheartened, I finally called the number. A young lady answered, and while listening to my long story she found a perfect option that was a recent cancellation. Excitedly I claimed it-and made reservations for next year.

It had been a long time since we went camping and had forgotten the pleasure associated with making the necessary arrangements. I think the anticipation of the journey is almost as great as the trip itself. Now that the Airstream was being prepared to be road worthy, the rental set and the campsite secured, the real fun could begin. I sent a copy of the reservation email to both sons to see if either (or both) would be interested and available. Prior to the success at acquiring a space in Yellowstone, I had suggested a similar trip to southern Utah in the fall if they were interested so now, we had two options. While the boys reviewed their schedules, I reacquainted myself with all things Airstream, including YouTube.  I had forgotten what a strong sense of fellowship there is amongst Airstream enthusiasts. My experience with the workings of it had faded and were uncertain. The last thing I wanted was to arrive at our site and not know how to operate the stove or the heater; and the water and electrical were critical. I could type any question into search and have dozens of choices at my fingertips. Most were refreshers, but some were epiphanies. Three inlets for water-potable, on-site and one just for cleaning out the black water tank were most inciteful.  It also required a visit to the previously forgotten State Trailer Supply. The large sliding doors opened as I approached; almost like a welcome to an old friend. I only had two small items on my list but was compelled to walk the aisles in search of unknown treasure. As much as I looked forward to the trip, the prolonged effect of planning it was therapeutic. 

As the departure day grew closer, only one son could come. The younger had demands at his business and reluctantly declined. The truck was rented, tanks filled, and arrangements made to pick up the Airstream-fresh from service and the install of new tires the following day. Bags were packed and supplies procured, including jelly-filled doughnuts-a staple and fond memory for all road trips. Everything was staged for the arrival of the Airstream. What were normally mundane work tasks; necessary before leaving, were viewed with a level of anticipation. Checking these off the to-do-list meant the trip was imminent. No alarm was needed for this trip. 

The planned departure time was 6:30 am-we were up by 5; who can sleep on Christmas Eve, right? As our son arrived, final touches were completed and our list double-checked. There is a certain aura when leaving on a road-trip; it isn’t quite dawn yet, so the interior of the truck resembles a cockpit of a plane and the cupholders are filled with cups of freshly brewed coffee; and the box of jelly-filled doughnuts wait dutifully to be devoured.  As we drove out our parking lot and navigated towards the freeway entrance, our son Alex asked, “Remind me where we are camping again.” “Bridge Bay” was my answer. “Nice” was his reply.

The End