The Terlet Post

How do you appropriately convey to another person your own personal hell?

Mine just ended. I no longer carry its burden. Please, follow me as I take you through the highlights of the worst part of Bessie.

The toilet system that came with Bessie was simply disgusting. Here's a photo of the shitbox...

Hideous. Doesn't it look like someone missed the toilet and shat all over the walls? And what's with the brown cushion? What a terrible, terrible design choice. Also, the ceramic "bowl" looks like a drawer you can remove. Anyone want to poop in my dresser?

I can't even relate to you how awful it was to remove. I couldn't do it. I literally couldn't do it. Brie, with her smaller adroit hands, was able to reach behind the shitcan and use a crescent wrench to remove the blind nut from the one screw that was hidden so far and deep within a hole in the back of the can that... I must stop. I'll never end the rant. Brie saved the day with her magic thumb and we were able to remove the dumper-drawer.

So I moved to the next task - removing the black water tank. You must disconnect the bottom of the black water tank in order to remove it, so I looked under Bessie and found this bullshit.
Yes, that's a duct-taped sewer pipe. This will be vile. I removed the duct tape.
What the hell is this? A plaster-o-paris sewage system? I removed the plumber's putty. So gross.
Oh look. There actually isn't a pipe at all. Simply trashbags held in place with plumbers putty and duct tape. Nice work asshole. Nothing salvageable in this project.

After a few more hours, I ripped the black tank out of her for good. Triumph in the cold Oregon rain.
What to do now? It took two weeks to find a replacement tank. Brie and I talked at length, calculated our water needs, the weight of the new tank and water, the dimensions, the possibilities, and finally found the perfect 16-gallon tank. We ordered it and waited. And waited. And waited. The fresh water tank (from the same order) arrived, but no black water tank. After a month I called. The order was lost. They resent it. Two more weeks and I had the tank. It had no holes in it. No one within an hour's drive could cut the holes for me. The tank waited. I waited. Finally I had enough. It took me a day of vacation time, but I got the damn holes drilled. Now I just need the blade valve parts. Camping World doesn't carry them. I can order them. I ordered them. The arrived two weeks later. I picked them up from Camping World. Camping World gave me the wrong parts. I went in the field for two weeks. I returned. I returned the goddamn wrong parts. I exchanged for the right parts. I instantly put the right parts into the tank and put the tank into Bessie. Then I set about finalizing the toilet so I will never have to deal with this project ever, ever again.

Here are the highlights along the way. A new ceramic china bowl terlet. Ooo, the contours...

Ergonomics check. This one might be a little too high. Would eventually swap it for a lower rise terlet so it would fit the dimensions over the tank. You'll see.

Let's take a quick recap of the process. Step 1, rip out the shitbox. This is what's left...

Prime the walls...

Paint the walls...

Pretty cool, huh? Now cut a hole for the black water tank. Line with a bicycle tire (great idea Brie!) to help with shock absorption...

Check the dimensions, measure the hole, get the hole cut...

Drop the tank through the hole and equip with blade valve...

Build a support box, lay the bamboo flooring, and install terlet. Don't forget to connect vent tube...

You may be able to tell the terlet sits a little lower than the previous one. Still, it sits too high, so install the step box...

Reinstall primed and painted bathroom counter frame...

Add sanded and stained drawers and newly cut plywood counter top...
And you've got the makings of a traveling terlet. A portable potty. A bastion of Bouncing Bullet bowel movements. Yes, I will stop.

I shortened the length of the terlet step after I took the photo below, since it prevented the drawer from opening. We will re-rig the drawer to be a hinged opening for a cubby hole, so I only shortened the step by two inches (or less)...
Ahh. Fully floored and ready for the sink.

Here's what 5 months of hellacious patience can yield; a before-and-after pair...

Ugh.

But Can You Caulk the Caulk?

It's such a drag when summer leaves. Little by little I feel it slipping away. What remains is cold. The clouds creep. The trees twinge of color. The breeze doesn't bite but it hints of teeth; no longer a pleasant reprieve from the bold sun. The bold sun that no longer climbs high into the sky. The shadows lengthen. Autumn is almost here.

We have to seal Bessie. She's had phantom leaks since we adopted her. We finally gave up and duct-taped her questionable seams, and then the summer came, the rains departed, and the leaks were no longer an issue.

This weekend, we peeled what was left of the worst-duct-tape-known-to-mankind off Bessie's seams and had a monster of a time removing the adhesive off the aluminum (Home Depot you suck for selling me that duct tape). It was awful. Goo Gone saved the day (Home Depot thank you for the spray bottle of Goo Gone).

To do things right, we're using a dental syringe (Water Pik) to apply the caulk to Bessie's seams. The results are beautiful - you can barely see the bead of caulk that forms the water barrier between riveted aluminum panels. It's slow and tedious work.

Before we were able to caulk, we had a number of steps: remove tape, goo gone residual adhesive, clean the seam, and polish the seam. So I got to use Gord's Polish on the leaking endcaps, which was rewarding until I gunked up the Russian Polisher with adhesive and it stopped working so well.

Here are some photos of the weekends work. Can you see a difference in Bessie's shine?

Here's a before-and-after pair...

Airstream Polishing Teaser Post

After the fantastic results using Gord's Aluminum Polish on the interior aluminum rails, I was so eager to take it to Bessie's exterior. I was slowed in part by the lack of a proper tool. A slow and adjustable RPM polisher is needed, not a car buffer, which is widely available and cheap. I finally found the tool I was searching for at an affordable price ($60). It took over 6 weeks for delivery, so I followed up on the order, thinking I was scammed. Long story short, the company I ordered from is thriving, but they were shifting orders away from the website I used as they are trying to streamline their efforts (like everyone else these days). So this marks the first time I shopped at a closing virtual "storefront". The order was sorted out and a couple weeks later, sometime mid-August, I returned from work to find my polisher had arrived.

I suppose I should be grateful for the imposed delay, as it forced me to concentrate on the other less aesthetic aspects of Airstream restoration, but I was stoked to finally have a weapon in my hands and some summertime still left to use it. It will be hard to polish in the rainy season, although that's a couple months away. In Oregon, the clouds like to spit on your face for half the year, but they only have enough punch for a rainy season for about 3 months. Yes, it's the drear and constant lack of a shadow that has Oregonians suicidal.

So I took the Gords and the polisher to Bessie. Sidenote: the polisher truly needs a name. It came with no instructions but a picture whose parts identification list was clearly translated from Russian. They figured I knew what to do with the tool I guess. Kinda love that. It would never happen in America. Instructions, manuals, warranties, directions "Do not use polisher on an infant" and the like. You know what I'm talking about.

I didn't have as much spare time as I wanted, but I managed to polish a flat section of Bessie. Here are the teaser photos. Can't wait to get a chance to do the entire exterior...

Noticeable difference, yes? She matches the reflective tint in her mirror now!
Man I was dirty afterwards. Yesterday (which is about a month after these photos) I managed to do a quick once-over on the endcap so that we can seal her seams and make her waterproof for the season. No photos yet, thus the teaser title. Stay tuned.

Staging Area Progress

If you are going to tunnel out of prison, you'll need to use something small to chip away ever so slowly at the prison walls. You must have faith that it will eventually happen, you must be diligent in your efforts, and you must be patient - time is on your side.

Our carport, the staging area, one week after adopting Bessie (and gutting her)...

Staging area at the beginning of July...

Staging area in the middle of September...

Aluminum Rails

In possibly the most rewarding small summer project, I explored the possibilities of Gord's Aluminum Polish while refurbishing Bessie's interior aluminum railings. These railings are for the overhead compartments above the kitchen counter and above the bedroom section. They screw into the mahogany shelves and hold the sliding doors in place. (We don't have the sliding doors anymore - well we do, but they suck - I mean, they really, really suck - and they're mildewy - and moldy - and warped - with brass knobs - and did I mention they're hideous?)

I had so much success with Brasso on the propane lamp and other various small stainless steel accessories that I gave it a shot on the railings. I used Brie's toothbrush to scrub the oxidation off the aluminum. I wore it out so I went and got her spare to finish the job. Here are the results...

And a macro shot of the final product...

Not quite satisfied, I decided to use the polish that I bought to clean up the exterior. I figured it would be a good primer before I set about cleaning the entire Airstream. I was pleasantly surprised after the first rail, and continued...

Here's a macro shot of the same rail after the first pass with Gord's...

Looking a little better right? After the next couple railings, I got the hang of the polish and went back and redid the first ones.

Results...

...are getting better. This polish really makes the aluminum pop, returning a reflective shine and leaving all the oxidation on my hands and rags. This stuff is fantastic on aluminum.

And of course, the obligatory macro of the final product before installation...

Not too bad! Apparently, toothbrushes are too strong a material to use on a soft metal like aluminum. You can see the streaks in the aluminum from the pressure of the brush on the metal. Oops. And now that I've published this, I'm probably going to owe Brie a couple of toothbrushes.

Overall though, you have to look very close to see the scratches, and for a 50 year old trailer, she's looking pretty good. The rails were soon put in place on the overhead compartments, clearing yet more debris from the staging area. Summertime's starting to seem a little productive now.

Bathroom Counter

Another example of a small project. The bathroom counter needed priming and painting, and the counter top needed to be replaced. One quiet weekend I broke out the primer, waited for it to dry, then broke out the paint, waited longer this time for it to dry, then gave it two more coats. Results and efforts aren't Herculean, but now it's complete.

While I waited for paint to dry, I chose to cut the new piece of plywood that will replace the countertop. It was a little tricky to measure, but the plywood was easy to work with and it fits like a glove.

Since the power tools were out, I decided to cut the replacement piece for the forward section shelf - the one that rests below the front window. It's from a mahogany veneer that we purchased a few months ago to help fix the wood on the dining booth, and it's pretty.

I also sanded all the gross green stain and mildew away from the structural piece that holds the shelf in place. Breaking out the sander always leaves me looking like this.

Sometime in July

Bessie enjoying the Oregon summertime...