It just seems right.
The timing,
the monetary investment,
the effort.
This is a requested repost of a series I did almost five years ago when I took my eight foot single-axle vardo caravan and reconstructed it into a 12 foot body on a robust tandem trailer.
After adding up the mileage from the log book I keep with the Vardo, I see we have clocked over 21,000 miles since she was first put to the road in February of 2010. I have, no doubt, missed some small side trips and there are excursions I know I forgot to record, but this is, more-or-less, where we stand. The trailer frame itself was high-mileage but well-maintained when I acquired it back around 2002 having first been owned by a university, then by a private individual before coming to me.
The real beauty of this trailer is the square tube construction and heavy-duty hitch. Starting small was wise for me as it constrained the build and forced me to squeeze every inch out of the design.
I eventually replaced the original jack with a more heavy-duty model and replaced the jack wheel with a large foot for stability. For safety, the tires were replaced when the trailer was re-purposed due to age, not wear. If you missed it and want to read more about the construction of the micro house we call a vardo, GO HERE.
The Vardo; Where are we now? What do we want?
This little living wagon is great and serves it’s function well. It’s a little beat up and showing it’s miles; living and traveling in all weather, a lot like it’s owner. But still, it’s a little homey shelter from the elements, providing all the necessary comforts, and making travel a breeze. With about 49.5 square feet of living space inside (4.6 sq. meters) it is spacious for one and comfortable enough for two adults who do most of their activities outdoors. However, I have long pondered placing my vardo on a longer trailer, either to gain cargo space for tools and the like OR to extend our living space. Sticking with the Minimalist thinking, I decided long ago that 12 feet was about the maximum I want in a trailer. With a standard 4 foot hitch that makes for 16 feet (4.9 meters) dragging behind the truck or about the length of a second truck. I did the math on the new space and I liked it.
So back to it. What do we really need?
Thinking of the many scenarios we find ourselves in, some added amenities could be handy in certain situations. From wilderness areas in Utah to posh campgrounds in San Diego, highway rest areas in the Midwest and museum parking lots in Santa Fe, or even stealth camping on a city street, our needs are varied. Although the vardo was built as a wilderness base camp, sometimes it feels like a miniature fortress or space station or temple of solitude. When we’re camping in the remote west, beyond the confines of civilization and snooping gawkers, it’s not a problem spending most of our time outdoors, using a campfire or cook stove to fry up some bacon and boil some coffee, but try that in a grocery store parking lot in the city and you will only find trouble. But we still essentially live outdoors. We don’t need a dance floor inside.
Two thing we want that this space can supply:
- A simple kitchen. By this I don’t mean a Martha Stewart style, butcher block countertop with rotating spice racks, dual ovens and a six burner ceramic-top range. We need a dedicated space to store our cookware and food, do some prep-work, and make simple meals in any weather, beyond the prying eyes of the local gendarmerie.
- Secondly, we want more storage space for our personal belongings when we finally hit the long open road and don’t look back. Tools for making things and raw materials alone take up a lot of our space. Leather, wood, sewing supplies, fasteners, etc. all require more space than we have. On top of this, a large, flat work surface would be a nice addition indoors.
After several (many) sketches and mock-ups… Voila! I think we nailed it, the vardo formerly known as the Snail reborn as Nautilus 78. Even though we know that nothing comes from nothing, our minds like to think of things as having a beginning, middle, and end.
So in that sense, here’s to our new beginning.
Preindustrial Craftsmanship 