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.
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 talked to her. She didn't know the manufacturer, but said she was definitely negotiable on the price. Given the 5-6 hour drive from home, I wanted to make certain we were at least in the same ballpark before committing to the trip. She was leaving town for a bit and wouldn't be able to show it for a week or so, which actually coincided nicely with my schedule. I hit The Google, and after a few minutes figured out that it was a 1957 Cardinal, which had featured a snazzy two-tone paint job from the factory:
A few days before we left, I called the Les Schwab in Monroe (where the trailer was located) and made an appointment for a bearing pack (and probably tires), since the seller didn't know how long it had been since it was last done. When we arrived after the long drive, it was clear (as is usually the case) that it was in rougher shape than the photos in the ad might lead one to believe. On the other hand, every trailer we'd looked at needed the same repairs on the front and back windows and the roof vent, either to fix water damage or to redo someone elses' work. My rationalization was that the thing that made me want to walk away was the fact that the parts I'd be removing and discarding anyway were in worse shape on this trailer than the others- still, there was no denying it was a project, and with a 90 year old house and a 50+ year old car I definitely didn't need another project. Man, I was conflicted, mostly because I hadn't liked any of the other trailers we'd looked at nearly as much as this one.
It took me about an hour of shaking my head and trying to put together a rationalization, but it wasn't easy, and I'm sure the sellers (who were very nice folks) were getting tired of waiting around. I finally came to the conclusion that if I got it at a low enough price, I could justify the projecty-nature of the thing (and deal with the justifiable concern from my wife). I finally offered a bit less than half of what they were asking (and frankly, about twice what I really thought I should be paying given the condition, but dang, it had such potential). After a bit of back and forth, we came up with something we could both live with. The sellers were nice folks, and I hated like anything to make them think I was just lowballing them.
We hooked it up, and given the elderly car tires that were on it, carefully made it down the hill into town for a bearing pack and proper trailer tires before the long trip home.
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| 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 talked to her. She didn't know the manufacturer, but said she was definitely negotiable on the price. Given the 5-6 hour drive from home, I wanted to make certain we were at least in the same ballpark before committing to the trip. She was leaving town for a bit and wouldn't be able to show it for a week or so, which actually coincided nicely with my schedule. I hit The Google, and after a few minutes figured out that it was a 1957 Cardinal, which had featured a snazzy two-tone paint job from the factory:
 |
| While stripping paint, we discovered that our trailer was originally red and white, like this one |
A few days before we left, I called the Les Schwab in Monroe (where the trailer was located) and made an appointment for a bearing pack (and probably tires), since the seller didn't know how long it had been since it was last done. When we arrived after the long drive, it was clear (as is usually the case) that it was in rougher shape than the photos in the ad might lead one to believe. On the other hand, every trailer we'd looked at needed the same repairs on the front and back windows and the roof vent, either to fix water damage or to redo someone elses' work. My rationalization was that the thing that made me want to walk away was the fact that the parts I'd be removing and discarding anyway were in worse shape on this trailer than the others- still, there was no denying it was a project, and with a 90 year old house and a 50+ year old car I definitely didn't need another project. Man, I was conflicted, mostly because I hadn't liked any of the other trailers we'd looked at nearly as much as this one.
It took me about an hour of shaking my head and trying to put together a rationalization, but it wasn't easy, and I'm sure the sellers (who were very nice folks) were getting tired of waiting around. I finally came to the conclusion that if I got it at a low enough price, I could justify the projecty-nature of the thing (and deal with the justifiable concern from my wife). I finally offered a bit less than half of what they were asking (and frankly, about twice what I really thought I should be paying given the condition, but dang, it had such potential). After a bit of back and forth, we came up with something we could both live with. The sellers were nice folks, and I hated like anything to make them think I was just lowballing them.
We hooked it up, and given the elderly car tires that were on it, carefully made it down the hill into town for a bearing pack and proper trailer tires before the long trip home.
 |
| Outside the Les Schwab in Monroe, WA |
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