My First Vintage Trailer,Fred (Don't Do What I Did)

Actual photo I took of my first trailer, Fred, before purchase.

So after passing this cute little beauty on the road after a camping trip, with that oh so tempting "For Sale" sign, I jumped into the world of vintage trailers. The price was right. As a teacher, I was always on a budget, but I could swing $1300. I thought I could renovate her...I mean, how hard could it be?

I was a babe in the woods, a newbie, a rookie. In other words..."You know nothing, John Snow". I knew nothing! Nothing about hooking it up, nothing about trailer brakes (whaaaa?), nothing about what could happen if you load the trailer incorrectly (crap, really?), let alone technical things like brake controllers or weight distribution hitches and sway bars (ummm...eek!).

Don't make my mistakes: learn all you can about trailer safety BEFORE driving off with your first purchase. I got super lucky, I must have a guardian angel hovering over me. Seriously.

So like I said before, I dove in headfirst.

I had my local mechanic "install" a tow hitch on my Suburban (aka "The Beast"). Unfortunately, I didn't know I had to specify that he should install the trailer hitch plug too so I could plug in the harness (to operate the lights/brakes/etc.). He didn't. Which I didn't discover until later. Hmmm, yeah...I know, I know.

I went back the next week and "inspected" the trailer. I took my trusty screwdriver, because that is what all the trailer groups recommend. I poked and prodded, looking for wood rot. By the way, wood rot feels soft and spongy when poked, where solid wood is hard. Missing multiple problems that were right in front of me (I even took photos of them so I know how blind I was), I talked him down to $700 and boom! I was the brand new owner of my first vintage trailer, Fred.

The seller hooked it up for me, but the lights didn't work because, duh, there was no wiring plug on my vehicle. Now I was also depending on the kindness of police officers if I was stopped, and hoped they wouldn't give me a ticket.

I white-knuckled it home, alone, on a three-hour drive that took five because I took those "Trucks with Trailers Maximum 55 MPH" speed limit signs seriously. Which is appropriate. I also stopped once at a mechanic along the route to see if he could help me with fixing the light situation.

Obviously this poor mechanic could do nothing since I didn't have the wiring or plug installed in the Beast. I did find another vintage trailer for sale though, oh yay!  See the story of Trailer Ethel for more on that. It was at this point that I realized how badly I was suckered by my local mechanic. Sigh.

When I finally got home, I backed it into the rough RV parking at my house. Well, let's say I attempted to back it in.

Trailer Fred and the Beast, pulling up to my house.

I made my first pass, which of course is never your only pass. Trailers take the patience of a saint to back in anywhere, just FYI. So I drove forward to straighten it out and try again. Stupidly, I didn't realize a broken scissor jack in the rear (which I knew was broken) would catch on the curb. The damned trailer got stuck halfway out in the street and half in the parking spot, and I couldn't get it free! I was sweating bullets!

In my panic, I am calling every single person I know who has any experience with trailers and got my friend Ray. Ray is a sunkissed, 74-year-old Kiwi character who used to own a wrecking yard. He has oodles of experience with trailers and luckily a soft spot for me. So we are on the phone, I'm sending pics of my dilemma, and he's giving me tips. No good solution is presenting itself. Meanwhile traffic on my small street had to be re-routed, by me. I got a few mean glares, but no one gave me the finger at least.

Ray suggested I tie the scissor jack up somehow to get it out of the way, but I couldn't figure out just how I would do that. Finally, after sitting and looking at it for an hour in the middle of the road, I thought, "what about putting a board under it?"

Eureka! I backed up again, slide a board under the jack to lift it up enough so it could slide over the curb on the board, and drive forward. Then I had to position the board so I can get it over the curb backward again and into place. Whew!

I was so exhausted at this point that I can't even remember what I did. I think I just sat and drank a hard cider, dumbfounded, sweating, and shaking. But Trailer Fred was home at least and I was still alive!

Moral(s) of the story:

1. Learn all there is to know about trailer safety before bringing one home. I cover these subjects in more detail in other posts. There are things you need to educate yourself on, like trailer brakes (if you have them or not, hopefully they work). Find out about hitches, how to get them installed and don't get ripped off like I did. Learn how to load the trailer properly and what the trailer should look like when hooked up (Load Your Trailer the Right (Safe) Way can help). Finally, if you can, get a weight-distribution hitch and anti-sway bars for safety and security when towing.

2. Learn how to maneuver a trailer ahead of time. Learn how to back up, park and all that jazz, before bringing one home. If you know someone with a trailer, see if you can get them to teach you. Better yet, borrow it and practice with it with them spotting you. Then you will be much more prepared and confident, and not as terrified and traumatized as I was on my maiden voyage. It also helps to have company and not do it alone.

3. Find a "Trailer Angel". Mine was Ray, and I am eternally grateful to him. He has helped me out more than once. If you already know someone who is familiar with trailers, fantastic! If not, befriend someone. There are many vintage trailer enthusiast Facebook groups, which are a great resource, but you can't beat someone local who can be called upon in an emergency. Make sure to show your appreciation when they help you, of course!

Trailer Fred, finally home.

As always, Happy Atomic Trails!

Disclaimer

The information provided on this website, in videos, social media posts, articles, or any other materials is for general informational and educational purposes only. It is not professional, legal, or engineering advice. Renovating, restoring, or modifying vintage trailers—and towing them—can involve risks, including but not limited to structural failure, electrical hazards, fire hazards, and injury. You are solely responsible for determining whether any project, modification, or safety procedure is appropriate for your specific trailer, skill level, and circumstances.

Always consult qualified professionals—such as licensed electricians, plumbers, structural engineers, certified trailer repair specialists, or certified RV inspectors—before undertaking any work on a trailer’s structure, electrical systems, plumbing, or towing setup.

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If you are not experienced in trailer restoration or repair, seek professional help before attempting any work. Safety should always be your first priority.