By Jay Dedrick, Rocky Mountain News - August 3, 2002

It was a time when Americans found it easier than ever to get away from it all, when streamlined engineering transported them to streamside relaxation.

During the golden age of the travel trailer, from the 1930s through the 1960s, vacationers combined the adventure of camping with the comfort and convenience of home - not a sleeping bag, but a bed; not a campfire, but a gas stove.

During the past three decades, campers grew less distinctive, as wood and aluminum gave way to plastic and fiberglass. But a growing number of motor campers are seeking out vintage trailers in want ads and in junkyards, lovingly restoring them to the sheen of yesteryear. Then they hitch them to their SUVs and revisit the golden age of road travel.

Vintage trailer hobbyists, including many in Colorado, network the modern way, through Web sites and Internet chat groups, where owners and restorers exchange tips. They also network the old-fashioned way - via clubs that hold rallies, including two later this summer in the state: the Rocky Mountain Rally of the Vintage Airstream Club, Wednesday through Aug. 10 in Estes Park; and the Tear Jerkers Colorado Campout, Sept. 13-15 near Dolores.

Among those heading to the former are Denver's Shari and Rob Davis, owners of "Maxwell," a 1964 Airstream Globe Trotter. Known for its iconic trailers with distinctive curves and silvery shine, Airstream was the dominant trailer builder during the golden age, nicknaming its trailers "land yachts." Airstream continues to manufacture trailers and RVs today. Maxwell is a '50s style diner, roadside motel and art deco rocket ship all rolled into one gleaming package on wheels. The trailer is 19 feet long, nearly 3,000 pounds heavy, and incalculably rich in nostalgia. "It's playful and it's kinda funky," Shari says. "You can have fun with the decor because it's a place to have fun, and you're only in there for a weekend or 10 days." Shari, a 42-year-old interior designer, finds fun in turquoise, the aquatic hue that was splashed in so many homes during the Ike and Kennedy years. Since buying the trailer in January, she has outfitted the interior with an electric fan, wall clock, curtains and Melmac dishes - all in turquoise. She covered the sleeper cushions in a retro fabric dotted with quatrefoils in turquoise and silver. The Davises found their trailer advertised for sale in the classifieds. It required plenty of repairs and replacements, but most of the furnishings were original - a rare find. They paid $3,500, and Shari expects they'll spend twice that getting it into peak condition. Named for its first owner, Maxwell's aluminum shell isn't quite as shiny as it was decades ago. With enthusiastic care, Shari and Rob are working to restore the gleam. But they haven't waited to complete the restoration to take the trailer camping, hauling it behind their SUV. Maxwell has traveled to Colorado rallies of the Wally Byam Caravan Club International, named for the globetrotting founder of Airstream, and Cheyenne Frontier Days. "I've been a tent camper since I was 8 years old," Shari says. "And my husband and I have been tent campers for years. But this is our first trailer." She prefers the trailer to a tent. The tightly arranged components include a kitchenette, closets and cabinets, a bed that sleeps two and a bathroom with sink and bath/shower. "You COULD take a bath in it," Shari says, pointing to the smallish tub. "Practically, though, it's really just a shower." At campsites, "I can cook anything I would cook at home, because I have a stove, an oven, a refrigerator," Shari says. "I like to do chili and soups. For breakfast I'll make Grand Marnier French toast." That's after a restful night's sleep on a nearly full-sized mattress. "It's a little bit smaller than our bed at home, but it's cozy," Shari says. "Our kitty, Lily sleeps with us, too, when she comes along." Timeless appeal The Davises aren't alone in discovering the nostalgic appeal of vintage trailers. The wheels are also turning in pop culture, whether on television (a Jetta shares screen time with an Airstream in a current Volkswagen commercial), the big screen (an Airstream showed up in Charlie's Angels) or in miniature (Pottery Barn is selling a $49 paperweight modeled after a 1962 Airstream Flying Cloud). Phil Noyes is a Los Angeles-based documentary filmmaker who produces California's Gold, a public television series that airs throughout California. He recently completed an hourlong program on the history of the RV in America; his research led him to compile photos and other ephemera in the newly published Trailer Travel (2002, Gibbs Smith), co-authored by Allison Arieff and Bryan Burkhart. Burkhart also is co-author of Airstream: The History of the Land Yacht (2000, Chronicle Books). Pottery Barn modeled its conversation piece after his vintage trailer. "There's certainly a lot of nostalgia for the '50s and '60s, because the baby boomers glom onto that. They grew up with them; their grandparents had them," says Noyes, whose research of vintage trailers made him a trailer owner and restorer. "When you step into one, you're transported back in time. They're self-contained bits of nostalgia, and they're homes on wheels - you get to take your home with you."

Photo by HAL STOELZLE/Rocky Mountain News - Used with Permission  The appliances, light fixtures and wood cabinets in the dining area are original.  Owner Shari Davis expects to pay twice the trailer's sale price, $3,500, for restorations.   Photo by HAL STOELZLE/Rocky Mountain News - Used with Permission  Photo by HAL STOELZLE/Rocky Mountain News - Used with Permission "If we couldn't have found a vintage Airstream, we wouldn't own a trailer," says interior designer Shari Davis, with her husband Rob, an architect. Photo by HAL STOELZLE/Rocky Mountain News - Used with Permission The Airstream's bathroom includes a tub/shower, sink and toilet (the lid is the blue square). Photo by HAL STOELZLE/Rocky Mountain News - Used with Permission Shari Davis decorated her Airstream in the style of the late '50s and early '60s.  She found the vintage clock, fan and bowl - all turquoise - on eBay.

Burkhart says he once thought his Airstream book might represent the first and last word on the resurgence. "But it seems to be a giant revival. I've been intrigued to see the amount of growth. It comes down to a lot of people coming from different walks of life having one similar interest, and enjoying getting together and having a good time. At rallies, there's as much talk about how to fix something on a trailer as as there is getting away and relaxing."

"You could pick up a vintage trailer for 500 or 600 bucks, put 1,000 bucks into it and have something really extraordinary. And it won't be a plastic and fiberglass molded trailer that's got no soul and no heart," Noyes says. "The new ones are fine, but the old ones have a smell and a glow and a warmth you just can't find in any modern trailer."

Count Lakewood's Randy Unter among the true believers. He's organizer of the second annual Rocky Mountain rally of the Vintage Airstream Club, Wednesday through Aug. 10 in Estes Park, and club representative for the region. He expects at least 20 vintage Airstream owners to attend the rally, mostly from Colorado and Wyoming, but some from as far as California and Florida.

"The members range from their 20s to their 70s," Unter says. "You'll generally find younger people in the vintage clubs, because (older trailers) are more affordable and they're projects. Older people don't want a project."

Not all aficionados agree on the definition of vintage; Burkhart says many point to 1969, when Airstream stopped making its classic design, as the end of the era. For his club's purposes, Unter says, a trailer 25 years or older is considered vintage. His 1966 Airstream Overlander easily qualifies, as does his newly acquired second trailer, a 1973 Airstream Sovereign.

"They're like airplanes without wings," Unter says of Airstreams. "The beauty of them is, if you take care of the shell and frame, they'll last indefinitely."

Tucking into teardrops

If the Airstream is king of the vintage trailer, the teardrop is the little prince. While vintage Airstreams measured as long as 30 feet and included full kitchens, beds and baths, the teardrop - made by several manufacturers and named for its streamlined profile - is typically 8 feet long, 4 feet high, with just enough room to sleep two inside, along with a cabinet and a galley at the rear, revealed once the hatch is lifted. The teardrop took shape in the '20s but fell out of favor by the '50s, when most traveling Americans could afford more spacious mobile camping accommodations.

But John and Vickie Ditges camp small by choice. The Longmont couple can often be found towing their 900-pound vintage teardrop to Rocky Mountain National Park. Four years ago they paid $1,800 for the trailer, built in 1947 by Kit Manufacturing.

"I wasn't too enthusiastic at first," Vickie says. "I told John, 'I'm not gonna sleep in that.' "

But at 4 feet 10 inches, she fits comfortably in the bed. John, 6 feet 1 inch, says he does, too - it's just a matter of angling his legs just so.

"The question we always get is, 'Don't you get claustrophobic?' " Vickie says. "But we don't; we just open the curtains or windows."

John and Vickie spent about $1,000 and one summer fixing up the trailer, adding new polished aluminum sheeting to the exterior and building an updated galley with cherry-stained oak cabinets, a sink and two-burner stove. John, a real estate agent, says the restored trailer is now worth at least $4,500.

He's not likely to give it up, though, given the emotional attachment. He grew up in northern New Jersey going to drag races as a teenager, and he'll never forget his first car, a '51 Chevy. Six years ago he spotted something very similar on the side of the road, a '49 Chevy, which he promptly bought and began restoring.

The Chevy now has its perfect partner in the trailer, both of which feature sleek streamlining - the kind of lines that inspired Chrysler's popular retro-mobile, the PT Cruiser. When camping, they tow the teardrop with their SUV, but they show off the vintage couple at auto shows.

"At the shows, the Chevy gets a tenth of the attention that the trailer does," John says. "That nostalgia floats the boat of a lot of guys."

John and Vickie plan to join other teardrop enthusiasts at the Bradfield Camp outside Dolores, in the Mesa Verde area, for the first Tear Jerkers Colorado Campout, set for Sept. 13-15. Duane Sherman of Brighton is organizing the club gathering, which he hopes will become an annual event.

Sherman, who works for Ace Hardware and enjoys hunting and fishing, is building his own wood-framed teardrop camper from scratch.

"I remember seeing teardrop trailers when I was a kid. I always thought they were neat-looking, but my dad always said, 'Nah, too small.'

"I like the old style of cars, and teardrops go with that. Today, the cars all look the same. I just like a little style, I guess."

Sherman has been working on his trailer for a couple of years, having spent about $1,000 so far, and he's expecting to spend another $500 to $800. Though it's far enough along to use, it isn't finished.

"I don't know if I'll ever actually have it finished, to tell you the truth, but I'll keep working on it," Sherman says. "We've got an expression: Life moves a little bit slower when you're on teardrop time."

Sherman and his cohorts have no plans for adjusting that clock, either. Their enthusiasm might inspire the modern travel trailer industry - which still counts Airstream and Kit among its manufacturers - to look backward as it develops new models.

"The new ones are just plastic Igloo coolers," says Craig Dorsey, who restores vintage trailers in California and runs a fan Web site, www.vintagevacations.com.

"We vintage guys tend to think ours are better because they have thicker aluminum and more panels than the present ones," Unter says. "The new Airstreams are nice, but we keep prodding them to make them like the old ones. I'm pleased to see Airstream coming out with some retro looks in their 16-foot Bambi, which is almost a throwback to what they were in the '60s."

Burkhart says that just such a strategy is what the RV industry needs to win the hearts of vintage trailer lovers.

"In order for the new products to be as desirable as the old classics, they have to do a really good job of taking the best of a company's classic era and folding it into their new product," Burkhart says. "Or maybe somebody like Craig Dorsey might run out of old trailers to fix up and may go into manufacturing a new 'old' trailer.

"When the new product gives you the same feeling that old classic does, like they're doing now with Vespa scooters, that's when you can capture the vintage enthusiasts."