YOUR GUIDE TO THE TWIN CITIES
Bill and Emily Acheson, of Edina, were considering a European honeymoon, but instead decided to buy a trailer and see America the old-fashioned way. They bought a new Airstream, the interior of which was designed by a national architect.
Teresa McPherson waited nervously for her boyfriend, Leif Raaen, to return to Minneapolis from Bismarck, N.D., where he had gone to buy a 36-year-old travel trailer that he'd seen only in photos.
"I was imagining shag carpeting and other people's funk," McPherson said. "I was worried it would be gross."
As soon she saw the vintage Airstream, McPherson was relieved. The once-shiny aluminum skin of the 1966 Safari had dulled with age, but the interior boasted real teak cabinets and a cozy dinette table that McPherson declared was "classic and classy."
With that, Raaen and McPherson joined a growing group of Airstream enthusiasts who are snapping up the distinctive trailers and scripting their own stories of romantic nomadism.
Whether as alternatives to chain motels or as objets d'art for the driveway, Airstreams have rolled into pop culture consciousness. They've shown up in ads for Mountain Dew and Ralph Lauren Polo. They've been featured in a "Charlie's Angels" movie and on a Sheryl Crow album cover. There's an Airstream diner in Los Angeles, an Airstream line of home furniture and an Airstream Hotwheels miniature.
And they've even made a splash locally. In his bestselling book "Peace Like A River," Minnesota author Leif Enger's fictional family takes off in a brand new Airstream. An Airstream graces the Metrodome plaza when WCCO broadcasts before Twins games. And there's a dedicated Airstream trailer park near St. Cloud, Minn.
Airstream owners say vintage models allow them to rub elbows with history, rekindle memories of family trips, or indulge their quirky, creative sides. Some have remade them into transportable offices, guest houses or the coolest chill-out pad at the mountain bike trail.
Others have been smitten by the modern, machine-age style, a hallmark of Airstreams since charismatic founder Wally Byam introduced the first model in 1936. Byam dumped the traditional canned-ham shape travel trailer and debuted the streamlined aerodynamic aluminum shell, which was modeled after an aircraft fuselage.
Raaen's Airstream dream began when he went to Shorewood RV in Anoka to see a much-heralded new model, the International CCD. It features a sleek, modern interior designed by San Francisco-based architect Christopher Deam, who once worked for Frank Gehry. When it was introduced in 2001, the CCD (named for Deam's studio) set both the RV industry and design circles abuzz.
Though once known for innovation, Airstream interiors had aged along with its traditional buyers. Most decorating tilted toward beige vinyl and cream-colored carpet.
Deam peeled back the suburban living room wallcovering to expose the gleaming aluminum underneath. Doing so filled the interior with more light and made it feel spacious. He also updated the windows and added backlit, translucent plexiglass sliding doors, sound systems, work spaces with Internet hookups, glass-top stoves and stainless steel sinks. A flat-panel TV is even available.
"I like to think of it as a well-balanced tool now," he said of the updated Airstream.
Raaen liked the CCD. Bill and Emily Acheson loved it. The Edina couple, who married in June, had been considering a European honeymoon. But they decided on an old-fashioned American driving vacation instead and went looking for a trailer.
"I was talking to the receptionist," Bill said. "I looked up, and Emily was over in the corner with the Airstream waving her arms. We weren't looking for it, but it's such a beautiful thing. Once you look at an Airstream, you don't look at anything else."
When they left on their honeymoon, Acheson didn't know where their trailer would take them, but they started driving east.
Raaen headed in another direction. Instead of forking over $38,000, the sticker price for a new CCD, he bought a used Airstream for $4,000.
"My intent was to find a gutted Airstream and build it up like the new ones," he said. "Then I came across this [his 1966 Safari], and it was almost intact. I didn't have the heart to rip it up."
A computer video editor, Raaen eventually wants to "tech out" the trailer by installing an editing suite so he can work wherever he is. Until then, he is busy fixing vents, adjusting the hitch system and mastering a rivet gun.
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