YES, they still make Airstream trailers — I know this because I recently bought one. Not that I could afford new. New starts at $35,000 and goes up to $90,000. Popping up every so often along America’s scenic highways like so many silver loaves of bread, the travel trailers that your grandparents probably thought were a bit passé are once again cool.
Mine is decidedly vintage, as in, not ready for prime time. This was a problem, considering I’d planned to take it on a trial spin down Oregon’s coast this past summer. Not possessing the patience to get repairs done, I located a loaner at an RV dealer in Eugene, which happens to be the second biggest Airstream dealer in the US.
Taking my loaned 23-foot Airstream International out on the road for the first time, I had visions of crushing pedestrians against light poles, backing over campers, or worse, scratching up the pristine aluminum of a design icon. I needn’t have worried.
One of Sutton’s technicians walked me through the whole process in half an hour.
I backed up my Ford F150 to the hitch and thanks to the truck’s rear video camera, made a hole in one.
Indicating I was taking some twisty roads though the Coast Range to the Pacific Ocean, I asked him how fast I could drive.
“You can go as fast as you like!” he said. (He once did 95 mph towing a 30-foot trailer “no problem,” he said.)
I drove about the parking lot, grandma-style, until I got the feel for the caravan. It turns out that Airstreams tow nicely (no thrashing around) because they have a low center of gravity and their aerodynamics minimize crosswinds.
After 10 minutes it was like driving a normal car. Occasional glances at the rear-view mirror afforded the image of a menacing, black-glassed behemoth right on my tail, like the truck in the movie “Duel.”
“Oh yeah,” I thought. “The Airstream.”
Any hassles involved in towing the trailer were worth it once we began to grow comfortable living in the trailer. The Airstream interior has improved greatly in the last decade. Airstreams now have power-showers and heat pumps, as well as furnaces, flat-screens and sound systems.
The bench seats and tables still fold down into charming queen-size beds, and the bathrooms with their tiny cubbyholes owe as much to airplane design as the riveted aluminum exteriors do.
Like Harley-Davidsons, they start conversations.
At our campsite, Scotty Roller, a graphic designer from Reno, Nev., whose own 2008 Airstream had reignited his love of camping (and hunting), was eager to take a tour of ours.
He marveled at the bamboo-style door-pulls, custom upholstery and extended seating area of our luxurious, Ocean Breeze-model International. It was a bit like guys comparing gas barbecues.
Now I know why they make them shiny, too.
In the Coast Range, Highway 126 hugs the Siuslaw River, which is wide and banked by forested slopes like a Scottish loch.
At Florence, population 8,000, we turned north and followed the coastal Highway 101. Here the landscape that matches the ambition of the American spirit: Misty headlands with wind-bent bushes give way to pristine coves populated only by birds and seals. Giant motor homes look like Hot Wheels as they creep along cliff roads. There are stretches where cellphone signals are blocked by giant headlands, and there are towns and businesses that are barely Google-able.
The Cape Perpetua Scenic Area at low tide has a huge collection of tide pools filled with marine life. Next to it, at the savage Cook’s Chasm, there is Spouting Horn, a geyser-like jet that shoots from a blowhole at high tide. From the parking lot, a wheelchair-accessible “trail” descends to the pools where the waves rage against the rocks.
This being Oregon, there is much signage about minimizing your impact. But nothing can detract from the feeling of being on the edge of the earth. We carried on to Waldport, choosing to camp at Kampgrounds of America. I wasn’t about to practice my reversing here, so I booked a pull-through site for $45.50.
Unhitching at the KOA was easy. When I booked online I noted that we were novices at towing, so a young staffer came out and did everything for us: unhooking and leveling; lowering the four stabilizers; and hooking up the 30-amp electricity, the sewer hose (what RV-ers call the stinky slinky) and the city water supply. He even found a length of coaxial for the TV.
Waldport’s KOA is small and low-key, but it has a great view of the Alsea estuary. Our kids had fun making friends on the play structure, which doubles as a sandbox, and in the recreation room with its board games and old movies. My daughter Helena, 6, rode her bike around the loop and Liam, 2, trundled nearer to home on his scooter.
For kids this age, even a trip to the store is an adventure, and every night ended with a campfire and S’mores. All us parents needed was a case of cheap beer.
The beach at Governor Patterson State Park a mile south of town is classic Oregon: miles of clean sand, cold, green breakers and super-sized seagulls battling crows for crab carcasses. Mercifully, the kids were happy for hours with just water and sticks and we parents could relax and actually talk instead of text.
Seventeen miles north of Waldport is Newport, another small town with an inspiring bridge over a grand bay that now must make do with tourism, crabbing and sport fishing.
On a gray day we went to the Oregon Coast Aquarium, the former home of Keiko the whale, recently rebranded to make it less crusty, more sexy. The Oddwater exhibit was most entertaining, looking at weird adaptations such as the puffer fish’s spikes and the lantern fish’s crazy reading lamp.
It’s nothing you wouldn’t know from watching “Finding Nemo,” but impressive.
Elsewhere, the low, shallow touch tanks allowed us to pet rays and baby basking sharks. You can also poke an anemone in the blowhole, for what it’s worth.
After seeing the giant Japanese Spider Crab in his habitat we had to stop at the South Beach Fish Market to crack a crustacean. Outside, Dungenesses boiled in a 50-gallon drum. Inside, $22.50 bought a whole crab and french fries, served with picks and nutcrackers but nothing in the way of spices.
Washing it down with a Rogue Ale (brewed blocks away) it felt like nothing could touch us. By the time we had swept the sand out of the Airstream and returned it to Eugene, we were ready to wash the smoke out of our clothes. But I missed that comforting presence in the rear-view mirror.
THE LOWDOWN
Airstream trailers at dealers such as at George Sutton RV in Eugene, Ore., run new from $35,000 to $90,000 ([541] 686-6296, www.suttonrv.com). It’s difficult to find Airstreams for rent, but for possible leads, log on to the Airstream owner message boards at airforums.com. For more information about travel to Oregon, visit traveloregon.com.
5 TOP STOPS ON THE OREGON COAST
1) Tu Tu Tun Lodge, Gold Beach
Ever find yourself ladling out French Onion soup to a 90-year-old couple on your vacation? Us neither —until staying here. Guests of this elegantly simple lodge on the banks of the Rogue River dine communally, sharing a single, four-course, family-style menu. From cocktails and canapés on the patio, to the wafting smell of wood smoke from the roaring fire pits outside that are lit as you’re served dessert, a stay here is a visit to the Don Draper era of travel. Staff are discerning and intuitive, proving that you needn’t travel to Thailand to sample truly sweet service (rates from $145; tututun.com).
2) Umpqua Valley Wine Trail, Roseburg
Just over the Coastal Range, this rustic grape-growing region in one of the sunniest, non-desert parts of Oregon is worth a detour. From bright Temperanillo at Abacela to the spicy Baco Noir at Girardet (and on to the rich, surprisingly sophisticated Bull’s Blood at the funky, Hungarian-influenced Palotai), the Umpqua’s all about memorable reds. Winemaking here is still a laid-back affair — take it slow and meet the people behind the wines (umpquavalleywineries.org).
3) Yaquina Head Natural Area, Newport
The views from the 1873 Yaquina Head Lighthouse are some of the best on the Pacific coast. Nearby Colony Rock is like a scene from Hitchcock — thousands of sea birds jostling for standing room on an island surrounded by sheer cliffs and wild surf. Cobble Beach has tide pools, piles of broken shells dropped by birds, and a lot of cobbles. Which you can’t take home, so don’t even try (750 NW Lighthouse Drive; [541] 574-3100).
4) The Sylvia Beach Hotel, Newport
Even if you only go there to pose with a latte and your used Hemingway, this hotel, named for the owner of Shakespeare and Co. bookstore in Paris in the 1920s, is a must. There’s no TV or radio, and the 20 rooms are decorated in honor of heavyweights such as Emily Dickinson. Dinner is served family-style at 7 p.m., at which guests often break the ice by playing parlor games (From $100; [888] 795-8422; sylviabeachhotel.com).
5) Rogue Brewery, Newport
Founded back in the 1980s in the southern Oregon city of Ashland, the now-famed brewer hit its stride in the more heavily-trafficked (tourist-wise, anyway) city of Newport, where it operates a brewery, as well as the original Bay Boulevard brewpub where it got its start. You might have seen their Dead Guy Ale around New York, but going to the source is a pleasure for any craft-beer aficionado. True followers can rent apartments above the brewpub; rates start at just $90 (rogue.com).
by Joseph Gallivan, David Landsel and Alexander Basek