Aluminuts Responds to the Environmental Question

CampyLady failed to tell me before buying a 5000 lb trailer that she was morally opposed to driving a truck capable of towing it. This has been a constant debate between us. I am certainly aware of the environmental issues involved, but disagree with CampyLady on this one point. While I concur that driving a gas-guzzling SUV around town as your primary car is a little ridiculous and not environmentally conscious, I feel that it is acceptable if you have a legitimate need. I don’t expect farmers to drive little Volkswagens. The day we bought an Airstream we had a legitimate need to own a truck.

We both take public transportation and ride bikes whenever we need to go places during the week; I feel this more than offsets our owning a larger truck. I also think that if CampyLady feels so guilty about one day driving a truck she could further offset her environmental footprint by taking 10-minute showers as opposed to the 45-minute marathons she presently enjoys.

The Airstream vs. the Environment

One of the things I have struggled with as an Airstream owner is the fact it doesn’t exactly meld with my environmentalist leanings. I’ve prided myself on commuting by public transportation, maintaining a vegetarian diet, driving small cars, camping without leaving a trace, and generally living a modest footprint in life.

When I was considering the Airstream purchase, I read that Wally Byam had manufactured the trailers to be lightweight so that a regular car could tow them. “Great!” I thought, “I won’t be one of those honkies you see on the road with an RV the size of a house pulled by 2-ton truck.”

After we made the deposit, I remembered that a sedan or station wagon in the 50s and 60s had a whole lot more towing power than one manufactured in recent years. I came to understand it’s a matter of safety to pull the Airstream with a truck capable of the job after reading the Airstream forums. Safety consciousness pulls the same weight as environmental consciousness in my head. I didn’t want to put myself, Aluminuts, and others on the road in danger by insisting on an inadequate tow vehicle. After much debate, we’ve determined the Toyota Tundra will be the front-runner when the time comes.

For now, I feel like I can put my environmental concerns to bed. Our plan for next summer is to park the Airstream in New Hampshire and visit it on the weekends shuttled by the Accord. I hold out hope that when or if we gather the funds to take the Big Trip a alternative energy, affordable, tow-worthy truck will be on the market. And yes, I know that’s more a matter of fantasy than hope. On the other hand, perhaps 6+ years of public transportation will earn me enough carbon credits to take the trip without insomnia-inducing guilt.

Above, our nephew peers out the window. Please think of his future, Aluminuts!

CampyLady Responds to the Airdream

I supported Aluminuts in his endeavor for happiness through Airstream—to a point. When he came home with the idea, I was all for it. I didn’t know if we’d actually set off on the long trip, but I thought fixing up a vintage trailer would be a nifty and consuming hobby for Aluminuts. He had never had a hobby, and I’m a firm believer that one needs a hobby to be complete.

As the accountant in our relationship, I knew we didn’t have the funds to stop working and twiddle around the U.S for an extended period of time. There was tension between us during the first year or so of Airstream ownership because Aluminuts couldn’t get the idea out of his head. I drew up table charts and Venn diagrams showing there was no way we were going to save what I optimistically calculated to be a necessary $50,000 (including the purchase of a big truck).

And I don’t think we have to drag the Airstream around the country to get full use of it. We’ll come to a time in our lives when we have a backyard. The Airstream can serve as guest quarters, a studio, or a pool house. If we ever buy property in the great wilderness, the Airstream can be our cabin. And we can always park it in a campground for a summer—whether in the mountains or the beach—and have a vacation home wherever we wish.

I think we’ve come to an accord. We both recently found new jobs and are happier in our careers. We’re not quite ready to leave Boston yet, so some of the pressure is off. This summer we plan to park the Airstream in New Hampshire, and we won’t need a truck for now.

The Airdream

The idea for the Airstream came to me from a general frustration with our lives in Boston. We both were in our late 20s, had jobs that we weren’t in love with, and felt our lives lacked direction. I came to the realization if we didn’t start paying attention we would continue to idle and all of a sudden find ourselves in our mid 30s, facing decisions about children and settling down.

At the time, we were considering moving away from Boston and trying out a new city. We didn’t have graduate school or a reason to move for our careers to help guide our decision, and we felt it was hard to justify moving across the country for no other reason than boredom. It was an easier decision after college. We had friends in Boston, it was close to my parents, and I was familiar with the city; it seemed like a reasonable place to try out. Now that we were older, it felt irresponsible to move again so arbitrarily.

We both had a strong desire to travel. I especially wanted to travel around the United States because there is much I haven’t seen. We could sell our place, quit our jobs, and travel around the country for a while in a camper, until we found someplace we really liked and could possibly stay.

On top of this, I felt traveling in a vintage Airstream added a layer of style. I was thoroughly excited by the prospect of fixing it up as a hobby. These were the romantic ideas I had when we first started looking for trailers.