This is not a question you have asked yourself. You know you want an Airstream. You already know you want to whiz along the highway in your own silver bullet, the landscapes of America standing still while you move move move.
You grew up with grandparents who understood the pleasures of the picnic, for whom the road trip was synonymous with family. You’re nostalgic for a period you have NEVER EVEN LIVED THROUGH.
The Airstream is not a big question mark in your life, it is a giant period and the end of a sentence you haven’t written yet.
Perhaps, like me, you have made a hobby out of scouring other peoples’ Airstream blogs and dreaming about how you would deck out the interior of your own Airstream in a style that nods politely to the era of its birth but moves fashion forward with your favorite textures and colors. Blogs like:
But to identify a longing is one step towards fulfilling it, so today I am putting my own Airstream dreams one step closer to reality. I am taking the knowledge I’ve gathered over a year of reporting on Airstreams for AAA and having some introductory trailer experiences and putting forth a plan to, hopefully, eventually, prettyplease prettyplease, buy my own Airstream.
Stay overnight in a vintage trailer hotel
My Airstream dreaming began long ago, but it took a turn towards reality last fall, when I stayed with my husband in a retro trailer at , The Vintages, a vintage trailer neighborhood set up in a rather cushy RV park just outside of Dayton, OR.
When it first opened, the park had six vintage trailers, two of them Airstreams. It must be working for them, for the park is now up to twelve, a range of trailers from the heyday of trailer travel in the 1950s up to a 2014 Airstream Atomic Bambi.
My husband and I got a night away from the kids and stayed in the 1954 Anderson 315-TB, one of the larger trailers on the lot and the one with the obvious mid-century modern allure. Plus, it’s within biking distance of one of the cutest old-timey small towns in Oregon, Dayton.
Okay, an Anderson is not an Airstream, you say. I get it. But It was a first step, one that had all of the characteristics of classic travel trailers — life gloriously laid out in a small, moveable space.
Each of the older trailers at The Vintages was retrofitted and refurbished by Flyte Camp, a company out of Bend, OR. These guys are my new heroes, since they take old trailers — I’m talking falling-apart, seen-better-days, ready-for-the-trash-heap trailers and give them good old love and elbow grease and age-appropriate parts and make them almost new again.
The Vintages will quickly make you re-calibrate your idea of what a trailer park is.
- Queen Size Bed with Lots of Pillows (exceptional comfort)
- Private Bathroom with Toilet and Shower(adorable, but not for 7-foot-tall people)
- Fine Hotel Quality Linens and Towels (might be better than at home)
- L’Occitane Bath Amenities (sniffer’s paradise)
- His and Hers Robes (or hers and hers, whatev)
- Caravan Coffee (out of Newberg)
- Outdoor Patio Area with Chairs and Table
- Outdoor Propane BBQ
- Dishes & Silverware
- 2 Cruiser Bikes (to bike into Dayton)
- Refrigerator (perhaps the cutest you’ve seen)
- Stereo System (nothing wrong with some good tunes)
- Flat Screen TV (not really necessary in my book, but whatever, float your boat)
All the Right Details
Each of the trailers is outfitted with special touches and sweet little details that add to the experience without making you feel overwhelmed.
Because let’s get real: Half the reason I want an Airstream is to escape my house, which is overflowing with kids’ stuff, hobby projects and too much of everything.
For design geeks like us, just being inside the trailer took up the first four hours of our visit. We opened every cabinet, every drawer, touched every gorgeous light fixture, stared at all of the artwork. We experienced the tiny space like it was designed to be the absolute maximum amount of life in the minimum amount of space, and then we got all nostalgic for a childhood we never had. Basically, we played house.
An Invitation to Go Outside
Is there any other place in the world that makes you want to explode outside like Oregon? In our trailer, I found myself doing a lot of longing, and having some of those moments I like to call NOWstalgia, where you’re feeling nostalgic for how you’re going to remember the moment of NOW.
A Quick Escape
An Investment in Happiness
Great. Now you want an Airstream. Me, too. So this is my goal. The Internet is awash with ways to save money to bankroll your dreams and travel like a rock star, but I’m in this for the long-haul. After all, as Airstream founder Wally Byam posited:
“The Airstream was intended as a lifetime investment in happiness.“
I’m starting an Airstream fund. Maybe I’ll even buy this adorable Airstream bank, which would set my Airstream Dream back $21.53. I firmly believe in visualizing my goals, so this might be just the right way to kick-start my dreams.
That way, if I never actually get a physical Airstream, I can always tell myself I have one anyway.
Next up: Getting the husband and kids on board. Isn’t this always part of finessing the dream? For Airstream dreaming, this will mean renting a movable Airstream.
Do you have an Airstream Dream? Or are you crying over some Teardrop Trailer or some such home-away-from-home? How are you working towards your goal?