So we resumed our search, hoping to find another Shasta. That's when we found our first trailer.
Within a few days of bringing home our little green Hanson, we discovered that a 1958 Shasta was being offered as part of an estate sale. It was right down the road from us, within two miles of where we found the Hanson.
We decided we had to go see it immediately. After all, we had gotten such a good deal on the first trailer, and we had really wanted a Shasta in the first place, right? So off we went.
The trailer had been sitting in a back yard for at least a few years. The tires were partially buried in mud and leaves. A tree had fallen on it and broke the glass in the front window. The leaking roof vent was held down by a bungee cord attached to the oven. The wings were long gone. But we didn't care. This was our Shasta!
We made the deal right then and there, over shots of some crazy health drink called monavie. It was a few days before we could bring the Shasta home, but it was ours!
In the light of day, it was quite an ordeal just getting the Shasta hauled out of that backyard. The first order or business was that a chain link fence had to be taken down. Then there was the excavation required to release the trailer tires from the mud and leaves. Lots of shoveling, jacking, strategically placed boards, gravel, etc. After a lot of effort, we finally got it to the street, pumped up the archaic tires and held our breaths. For the second time in a week, we were driving down the same back roads, on dry rotted tires with no running lights.
