Lazy Daze Owners' Group

So I ordered one, and bought a truck to go with it—a Ford F-150 pickup

I’m fine—thanks for asking. For the past few months I’ve been busy on a new adventure: moving into a 27’ Airstream trailer. Skylark, my 2003 midbath Lazy Daze, is in good hands: my friends Karen (“OldJerseyLady”) and her husband George headed out in her yesterday. They’ve upgraded from a Chevy-based 1989 22’ twin/king, so they are delighted, and I know they’ll take good care of their new home.

Why an Airstream? Well, I had been thinking about moving to a newer rig, but the latest Lazy Dazes didn’t excite me. I’ve never liked the interior design choices made by the factory, and he latest models have darker wallpaper, no escape hatch and other changes I don’t care for compared to my 2003. Besides, buying a new LD would just mean starting over with all the same upgrades I’d made to Skylark over the years. That was an unappealing prospect.

Then a friend dragged me to an Airstream dealer to look at their trailers. I had always said that if I ever bought a trailer, it would be an Airstream. Their clean, unadorned lines and streamlined shape appealed to me. No slideouts, no swoops and swirls painted on a big box—just an honest, functional piece of machinery in plain silver aluminum. But I had never seriously considered a truck + trailer rig, despite the fact that it has some advantages: e.g., no need to leave my home in the hands of a mechanic every time the engine needs an oil change.

However, once I got inside an “International Serenity” Airstream, I fell in love. The clean, modern interior was exactly what I had always wanted. It felt spacious and bright compared to my midbath. (Turns out a 27’ trailer has a lot more living space than a 27’ motorhome.) Panoramic windows at both ends, large side windows, “Vista View” upper windows (like the ones on an old VW Microbus), multiple skylights and Fan-Tastic vents added up to a bright interior, complemented by light bamboo-like laminate-covered cabinets and aluminum walls. The cushions were covered in salsa-colored Ultraleather, adding a cheerful touch of color. The only thing dark was the floor, and I could live with that.

The quality of the hardware was well above LD’s—euro-style adjustable hinges on all the doors, smooth dual full-suspension, self-closing drawer slides, a Corian counter, a large, deep stainless steel kitchen sink, and so on. I could go on, but suffice it to say that just sitting in the Airstream made me smile. And did I mention the queen-sized island bed in the front? After fifteen years of climbing in and out of an overcab bed several times a night, I was ready for that.

So I ordered one, and bought a truck to go with it—a Ford F-150 pickup with tow package and a passel of options—heated and air conditioned seats, “lane assistance” (the darn thing steers itself!), “adaptive cruise control” (maintains a constant distance from the vehicle in front of it), and so on. It’s a long way beyond the basic features of the 2003 E450 van chassis I was used to. It’s also quite powerful, with a dual-turbocharger “EcoBoost” V6 engine that gets 15-16 mpg when towing my 7,000-pound trailer, compared to the 9 mpg I was getting with Skylark towing a Subaru Forester.

The truck has been great so far; I’ve already put 10,000 miles on it with zero problems. The downsides of the trailer are the dealer experience and the build quality. I was prepared for both, but that didn’t make it any more fun. The dealer experience was about what you’d expect: for example, the eager-beaver salesman stopped responding to emails as soon as the purchase was completed. As for the quality… well, I’d characterize it this way: excellent design, very good materials, and sloppy workmanship.

Yes, this is a mass-produced RV. When my friend and did an initial inspection, we came up with multiple pages of assembly defects. It took the dealership more than a month of foot-dragging to correct most of them. Some I fixed myself after purchase, because it was just easier. A few, such as the misaligned hinges that cause the entry door to scrape at the top left corner, remain to be fixed.

So it’s not a bed of roses… but I love living in this trailer. Just looking around the interior with its smoothly curved lines still makes me smile. I’ll be adding solar panels and lithium batteries next winter, but for now I’m plugged into shore power, since Airstream’s supplied batteries (two flooded-cell group 24 Interstates) aren’t good for much more than running the lights. Of course I’m still putting things away and organizing the interior storage. There’s plenty to be done, but mainly I’m just enjoying my new home.

Even though I no longer own a Lazy Daze, I don’t plan to leave this group—not on your life! Lazy Dazers feel like family, having educated and nurtured me through sixteen years of RVing. I can never fully repay that debt, because RVing changed my life for the better in so many ways. So I’ll still be around, if perhaps not as active as before.

Happy trails to all!