When long-hauling a massive trailer cross country, it’s important to equip yourself with the proper gear. Besides an actual trailer—and a truck built to haul it—you’ll want a set of heavy-duty brakes to stop the rig, a sturdy hitch rated for the trailer’s weight and some extra-large mirrors to see who’s coming up from behind. Tow on, my friends!
Last Sunday, I took my new Airstream trailer on her maiden voyage—a simple test run—and ended up getting more than I bargained for. Before I get into the story of my weekend from hell, let me brag about my new unit. This thing is a true beauty, Airstream really had their stuff together when they designed it. She’s a thirty-three footer decked-out to the gills with all the niceties from home.
You see, this trailer’s American made, so my chest swells with pride when I grab that stainless steel handle and step inside. She’s decked out with double insulation, diamond tuck & roll, toilet, shower, refrigerator—we’re completely self-contained! In fact, I’m tempted to just sell the condo, park this baby at the Indian Lake KOA and start my early retirement.
But I digress, let’s get back to my bloody Sunday. I’ve got my new trailer hitch and towing mirrors installed and ready to roll. The Airstream is hitched-up to my brand new F-250, the lights and brakes are working and everything else’s in order. With only a small amount of consternation I back out of my driveway and hit the local highway. I gotta tell you—the Airstream tows like a dream and the F-250 has no problem yanking that baby around town. I even beat some numbskull at red light who tried to drag race me in his old Coronet.
Once on the open road everything was going smoothly until I heard some yahoo honking at me. I’m not sure what I did to upset him, but he was obviously hopping mad. In my mirrors I could see this wacko darting back and forth, pumping his fists, flipping me the bird and pounding on his steering wheel. Admittedly I was a bit put off, so I thumbed my nose at him, then I thumbed my teeth—just to drive the message home. Judging by his red face and the steam coming from his ears, this only served to really upset him.
I was in my happy place at the time, out pulling my new rig around, so I decided to pay this guy no mind. I continued driving, just ignoring the idiot. I remembered that I needed to do some banking so I took the next exit. I needed some cash to take my lady out later, and the bank parking lot would provide a great proving ground to test my technical towing abilities.
I get the rig parked with no problems and start walking toward the bank. Just then, this crazy freak starts rushing me. Just when I identified him as the screaming jerk I’d encountered on the road, he sucker-punched me right in the jaw. I fell hard, nearly blacking out. Then I heard him shout, “Take that to the bank!”
Next thing I know, he’s gone and I have an achy jaw. I’m sure he ran off to tell all his friends just how bad he is—before I could get back up and beat him silly.
All in all, it wasn’t so bad—sometimes it takes a good, sharp blow to the face to clear the cobwebs. I’m supremely happy with my new Airstream and all the towing accessories I loaded my F-250 with. Only, now I know to be a little more careful when I’m out there towing my rig among the restless native population.