My good friend Ron came over today and we went trailer shopping; a couple of old guys on the hunt for guy stuff. I think he was as excited as I was. Ron has many years experience handling trailers at speed; I have none. This makes him my choice as trailer whisperer and backer-upper instructor.
Before we head out, I once again web-check the weight and towing specs for my truck, and show him my volume calculations for the stuff I can't part with. This gives us a good point of reference, but it soon appears the stuff will not comfortably fit into the nearly 1.8 million cubic inches of a 20-foot trailer. I know that sounds like a lot, but it's not really.
We visit three dealers in the course of the day, and settle on one unit that is 8.5 feet wide by 24 feet long and has a road clearance of 105 inches. I have to tell you: standing in front of this bad boy, you feel humbled. It is big. It dwarfs my truck, and I thought my truck was big.
Still, all the specs say go. The extra 360,000 cubic inches seem suddenly huge, and the price is right. It has a tandem axle, a ramp door and pretty lights. I am about to learn a great deal about loaded trailers and transporting them cross-country over topés and Mexican potholes.
Now the problem: where to park it. Another of my good friends, George Loney, rightfully reminded me that my house is on a hill. I have thought about this, and it's times like these when I wish the Township would have seriously considered my proposal to lower South River Road while it was recently being rebuilt.
Sadly, movers will be walking uphill. But only for half of the time.
No comments:
Post a Comment