In my early life, one of my greatest qualities was massively inconvenient for others. It’s a bother, for sure, when a girl just won’t stop, won’t give up, give in, surrender, acquiesce, bow down.
I heard it many times growing up: God you’re stubborn. You won’t listen to anyone.
It’s good to listen at times, but not to the external voices who tell you to stop reaching for your dreams and to just sit down and quit taking up so much room.
This stubbornness has served me well as I build a new life with The Tiny. I first saw a photo of this red and white tiny trailer on my friend’s cellphone 3 years ago at a retreat in Myrtle Beach. It was named Lena back then. I immediately wanted it and asked if she might sell. She said two other friends also wanted it. When the possibility opened up that Lena might be up for sale, I persisted. And I persisted. And I persisted. And so it came to pass. I paid $7,500 for this gently used T@B, rather than the $20,000+ it costs for a new one.
There have been many, many challenges in The Tiny and my early relationship. There was some issue with the jack, and the day came when the tongue of the trailer came crashing down to the ground. Bill with his hammers and crow bars and his own refusal to give up helped me out of that fix. To have confidence in the jack assembly, I ordered a whole new jack assembly from the manufacturer, had it replaced at a shop, and got a pneumatic jockey wheel, which makes moving The Tiny around at a campsite pretty easy. I had never looked at trailer tongues and jacks before. I didn’t realize they all had two safety chains that crossed underneath and were attached from the trailer to the vehicle. I didn’t realize they all had a safety brake cable. And there is this thing called a coupler, which goes over the ball on the hitch.
Also, as my friend was demonstrating how to use the trailer during the sales handoff where we met in Alabama, the lifting mechanism in the original 3-speed ceiling fan broke off. So I had that replaced with a whisper quiet model with 13 speeds, a rain cover, and a remote control. Again I counted my blessings that the old fan broke and I get to enjoy this new marvel.
The front stabilizer jacks got bent during the jack failure, and were ordered and replaced. Two months ago, I could not have told you what a stabilizer jack was. And now I’ve purchased two of them, had the shop install them, I’ve lubricated them, and cranked them up and down. They are good friends to me. I also have two in the back. I am rich with friends.
And then there was the towing part. I had never towed anything in my life. As a massive act of support and encouragement, Bill went with me to haul it home from Alabama, and he drove the whole way there and back. The first time I drove The Tiny, with Bill next to me in the car, I was shaking with nervousness. I drove 2 miles an hour around corners. Yet I persisted. The next step was driving it with Bill following in his truck, cheering me on. (Here’s a marriage tip: Find someone who cheers you on.)
Oh, I forgot. While we were driving The Tiny home, we stopped for gas and saw that the front window had blown out. My friend mentioned that she had the window replaced, but not with the original Plexiglas. This was real glass and totally unsuited for the front of a trailer. I immediately saw my good fortune. This quick tragedy of the blown out window would give me the opportunity to get it done right. And so, with massive time and energy and persistence, that came to pass.
There was also a problem with the title and getting the bill of sale to match the registration. That took some time and FedEx-ing to get done. And it got done.
The piece de resistance was me driving The Tiny by myself to the shop in Pearl River. I shook, and quaked, and quivered, and told the GPS to avoid the Interstate. Humming along the backwater roads, I relaxed after about 1/2 an hour and realized I had entered a fourth dimension of reality, one where I was safe in my own hands.
Of course, I had to learn to hitch up. Do you know how many steps are involved? Many! I printed out a sheet with instructions that I check off. I found it on a T@B forum where I’ve become a regular commenter and part of the T@B cult.
My first question on that forum was how to get a hitch installed on my vehicle. I told them I had a tow package on the Durango, a vehicle I bought 2 years ago with the idea of buying this T@B or something similar. Someone on the forum mentioned that if I had a tow package, that means I already had a hitch receiver, and I needed to get the ball. I went outside, pried the plastic bumper cover off, and by god, there was the hitch receiver and even the socket where you plug in the trailer to make the tail and brake lights work. Who knew?
My first solo test campout was last week, and the deep peace, and satisfaction, and joy I get from time with The Tiny is indescribable. Yes, yes, yes.
The other day I taught myself to put the cover over The Tiny by myself. That is no small feat, and required a 6-foot piece of PVC I happened to have in my office.
My next major challenge is learning how to back The Tiny up into my driveway while cars are approaching on the street. It’s so traumatic that I actually thought of moving so that I would have a wider driveway. I’m practicing my backing skills in the park. The day will come when I don’t have to text Bill to come help me get The Tiny back into its cubbyhole next to the house. He gave me a brilliant piece of advice: When I’m backing up the trailer, don’t worry about the cars approaching; just focus on what I’m doing. That is sage advice for a whole lifetime.
I pretty much do everything wrong the first time, have very little sense of mechanics and physics, and I’m still as dumb as a rock on most subjects regarding T@Bs. I won’t apologize for that.
But the main thing is: I persist.
Everything else is lagniappe.