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We wake the next morning at 4:30AM. The anxiety of our insecure camper situation made it hard to sleep as it is. The activity in the parking lot only made it more so. We just want to get the camper up to our work station as fast as possible so that we can get to work. We set everything in the camper on the floor so nothing will fall and move into the cab of the truck to drive away. Google predicts a 9 hour drive. We assume more.
In Day 2 of our return trip from picking up our new (to us) 1970 Avion C11 has us stopping by Silver Springs State Park and wandering into Georgia.
There is something so relieving in closing a question. Whatever the solution may be, to just take any options off the table and proceed down that single, prescripted path is liberating. We spent years considering camper options. A cheap new camper? A custom pop up? A rugged specialty off-road rig? There were so many options that we wasted hours upon hours discussing and stepping through what it would take for each to serve our needs. In the end, we wanted an adventure and, when the opportunity arose, we took it—partially out of a love for the design, and partially in a desperate need to stop looking and start doing.
We walk around the outside of the camper. We prod about on the inside. We look at each other and nod. It needs work, but we expect that. It smells like what it is: a 47-year-old camper. But the aluminum exterior looks solid and the interior will do...for now.