Breakdown.
A couple days into the camper project, I'm falling apart.
The deeper I get into the project, the more I see the camper, a 1968 Frolic named Scooter, is in even worse shape than I am.
I pulled off some water-stained paneling in the front to see how bad it was. This was a mistake. Eventually I just pulled of the entire front end and started re-framing. The only thing that was holding it together was the aluminum skin. I'm surprised it didn't collapse over the winter under the snow. I'm not joking.
There was no way to remove all of the sub-standard wood in the thing without completely rebuilding it, so I beefed it up as much as possible. "Pretty" went out the window and "good enough" became the standard. Eventually I got the front end put back together and at least the front end is watertight. The back end scares the hell out of me. It's a dark, moldy cave back there, and I'm terrified it's going to be worse than the front. Again, not joking.
For the moment, I'm re-doing the paneling up front and hitting everything with as thick a layer of Kilz primer as I can to maybe keep more mold from growing. For the moment, it's brighter and more inviting in the front, so maybe I'll just work there for a while and ignore the looming pestilence I will eventually have to face.
I haven't ridden in four days, and I probably won't ride this week. My back is in agony and my hands are shredded. at least I'm barely eating anything, so I have that going for me.
Head down, keep cranking away.
The deeper I get into the project, the more I see the camper, a 1968 Frolic named Scooter, is in even worse shape than I am.
I pulled off some water-stained paneling in the front to see how bad it was. This was a mistake. Eventually I just pulled of the entire front end and started re-framing. The only thing that was holding it together was the aluminum skin. I'm surprised it didn't collapse over the winter under the snow. I'm not joking.
There was no way to remove all of the sub-standard wood in the thing without completely rebuilding it, so I beefed it up as much as possible. "Pretty" went out the window and "good enough" became the standard. Eventually I got the front end put back together and at least the front end is watertight. The back end scares the hell out of me. It's a dark, moldy cave back there, and I'm terrified it's going to be worse than the front. Again, not joking.
For the moment, I'm re-doing the paneling up front and hitting everything with as thick a layer of Kilz primer as I can to maybe keep more mold from growing. For the moment, it's brighter and more inviting in the front, so maybe I'll just work there for a while and ignore the looming pestilence I will eventually have to face.
I haven't ridden in four days, and I probably won't ride this week. My back is in agony and my hands are shredded. at least I'm barely eating anything, so I have that going for me.
Head down, keep cranking away.
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