1957 Cardinal travel trailer restoration

A weekend at a time, I've managed to get the bulk of the skin off, including the roof. The good news is that the very first corner I uncovered had by far the most damage, and nearly everything else has been some kind of pleasant surprise.     Even the roof framing around the vent, which had the most visible damage, is fairly solid (of course,  it's gotta come out anyway to replace the damaged plywood).   On the not-so-good front, there's some fairly heavy damage concealed by the tall cabinet, both at the top and the back (covered up by a PO), which explains the odd hole I'd uncovered in the door side wall earlier. I'll likely need to pull the tall cabinet in order to fix it properly, which means I'll likely end up removing the rest of the cabinets, too, in favor of sheet marmoleum rather than tile. Ah, well, what's a little scope creep, anyway? I was also treated to a hail of hardened putty patches when I removed the roof skin (continuous

I was able to shake out just a few hours to work on the trailer this week, but I did manage to remove two of the lower door side panels (as well as the door itself). Plenty of twisty nails held the flashing around the door and the threshold, wherein I learned the wonder of Vampliers screw removal pliers. Seriously, these are great. Granted, 80% of the twisty nail heads ended up busting off no matter how careful I was (by comparison, I've removed about half of the J-rail without a single busted or stripped screw), but I'll take it. No shortage of rot, although I was pleased that there's at least some solid framing left. One disappointment is what appears to be old damage to the paneling behind the icebox/back of the closet, which explains the fresher birch ply there. Count that one as a red flag missed on my part. I'll have a better idea once I get at it from the inside, but it almost looks as if it might have been fire damage. Oddly, the adjacent fr

After several weeks of life intruding (including needing to build a full-scale Wright Flyer marching band prop the same weekend), I was finally able to shake out enough time to begin pulling the skin off of the Cardinal. I knew there was going to be rot, and I wasn't disappointed (hmm, that didn't come out quite right). The damage is far more extensive than the water staining visible in the interior would indicate, enough so that I ended up supporting the front wall with a bungee cord to hold things in place until I get a chance to deal with the electrical and propane lines. The curb side is in rougher shape than the street side. I'll need to dig deeper before deciding whether I can get by with a patch job on the floor (broken on the street side, some rot on the curb side), or if I'll need to pull all of the cabinets for full replacement. Definitely a good reminder that any visible water damage at all likely means major rot underneath. A

Last weekend we moved our only child into her college dorm, which, for those who've never done it, is a uniquely stressful experience, big life transitions and all that. Sunday was the day, and in the interest of stress management we'd planned Saturday for low-key hanging out and packing. That was not to be. At 8AM I got a call from our local police department. Remember the first post here, where I talked about our stolen '78 Apache? Yeah, this one It was in an impound yard, having been recovered just over eleven months after thieves had cut through a locked cyclone enclosure and a couple of hitch locks to liberate it. When it was stolen, I was fairly certain that within hours it had suffered the fate of most stolen popups- converted via reciprocating saw into a utility trailer, probably with a snazzy coat of flat black rattle can to hide the crime, and filled with various bits of stolen junk heading for the scrap metal buyers. Turns out the truth was much weirder.

Overthinking things as usual, I reasoned that, while I'd normally save cosmetics for last, it made sense to strip the paint from the aluminum skin prior to disassembly. The stripper would undoubtedly attack the new putty tape if I waited until after reassembly, and chasing loose skin around a shop floor sounded like zero fun. Unfortunately, I had to choose between stripping in my driveway (blistering direct sun and breezy, this time of year) or inside our rented storage space (no water). I'd planned on using aviation stripper, which is generally water-neutralized (that is, I'd have to hose it off), but given the weather, fear for my enviro-credentials, and fear of invoking the wrath of my fellow enviro-neighbors, I finally decided to do it inside the storage space, which means no bad fumes, and no water rinse. I bought a test jug of Citristrip, an environmentally-safe stripper which per conventional wisdom generally does the job, has no bad smells, neutralizes with odorless

About that same time (beginning of July 2017), I found an ad on Seattle Craigslist for what the seller called a '1957 Trailer', with no mention of manufacturer. My first impression was of underwhelming street appeal with the brownish stripe and painted windows, but that it had a nice hammy shape, great curved cabinets and yellow stove. On the other hand, the significant water damage at the roof vent and rear window made the asking price pretty optimistic. Photos from the original Craigslist ad    My plan was to keep it in mind, but let it sit for a couple of weeks in the hopes that the seller might be more realistic afterwards. Meanwhile, not much else within a reasonable distance was coming on the market. There was an Oasis and a Dalton in California that had potential, but that's a heckuva drive on a gamble. Ten days later, the ad for the mystery trailer had rolled off (I'd saved it, just in case). I texted the seller and eventually

This was our '78 Apache hardside, stolen last fall. The thief cut through a locked cyclone gate and two hitch locks to get to it. I'd finished the restoration some years ago (not that it needed much), even added zippers to the cushions so we could keep the original upholstery while replacing the foam. Even had original curtains and wheelcovers. That definitely made things tough this camping season, so I started looking for a replacement. The Apache was a great trailer and a fabulous piece of engineering, but setting up/tearing down in the wind and weather could get old. I also needed something lightweight enough to tow behind a minivan or wagon, and I'm a sucker for old and funky stuff. While I love the old veneer-interior canned hams, in the interest of daughter-off-to-college budget friendliness I started out looking at '60s vintage Aristocrats, Aladdins, and the like. For some reason, most of the likely candidates seemed to be clustered in central Washingto