Welcome Home, Dory 633

Grab a seat, kids, as I recount The Story of Dory; a tale of hope and joy, heartbreak and resilience, friendship and community, but more than anything, the motto of Just Keep Swimming.

Once, there was a girl who was stuck in the doldrums. She used to be adventurous and playful, but those days had long since given way to responsibility and adulting. She was a caretaker by nature, given an abundance of opportunity to apply her skills, and the thought of fun most often got shushed by the shoulds. Sadly, many important people in the girl’s life passed away in a short span of time. Her father, mother, best friend, mentor, all gone just months apart from each other. For a while, life became mostly about death, and she wondered if this was all there was, and whether joy was all in the past.

I am that girl, but don’t worry, this story has a happy ending. You see, one day, my grown up (but not so grown up as to know better) son went on a big adventure. That got me thinking. A faint and tiny voice whispered, “I wonder,” in my ear. Then another day, I spied a cute little teardrop trailer in my neighbor’s driveway and heard that voice again: “I wonder.” A small trailer might make traveling just the right amount of doable, and any amount of traveling might bring some fun back. That little spark of curiosity led me to online searching of teardrop trailers. I started to feel a glimmer of something I hadn’t experienced in a long time: excitement.

The internet guided me, one web page at a time, to the Alto, by Safari Condo. It was the Goldilocks of trailers, with everything we wanted, and no more. I was hooked. I called the company sales office, located in Quebec, Canada, and inquired on how I could see one of these unique trailers in person. The kind salesperson connected me with one of the very first Californian Alto owners; a couple who was on their way home after pickup, and in a campground only an hour away. Without any hesitation, I went and looked at the trailer in person, not knowing whether it would be better to love it or hate it. Buying one meant traveling all the way to Quebec, and that sounded like a very big, scary undertaking. But the owner had me stand inside the small space as he pushed a button that made the roof go up, up, up! Crescent shaped windows appeared along both sides of the trailer, as the aluminum ceiling raised higher than I could reach with my hands, filling the whole space with light. I texted Richard: “OMG. OMG. OMG. THIS IS IT!!!!” I called the kind salesperson that day and put in the order. Richard already understood the importance of this crazy venture, and as it so happened, my parents had left behind just enough money to pay for the trailer. It would take a year before it was built and ready to pick up, but now I had something to live for.

During the Big Wait, I looked for community online, so I could ask questions. There was a forum, mostly in French, called “Condistes,” but I wanted something more immediate. So I took a shot and formed a Facebook group and named it “Altoistes.” It was a group of 2; myself and the owner of the only Alto I had ever seen. But before too long, it became a group of 3. Then 5, 10, 50, and by the time I was getting ready for my big trip across the country, I had 100 friends, in Canada and the US, including the kind salesperson, who talked with me so much on the phone that he was now referred to as my “Canadian boyfriend.”

With shaking hands, I started the four thousand mile solo drive to go find my trailer, whom I had already named: “Dory.” I made a deal with the Universe that I didn’t care what happened to me later, but could I please just live long enough to meet my Dory? Friends, old and new, kept me company on the journey, through Facebook and in the Altoistes group.

Richard flew to Montreal after I had arrived, and together we picked up our beautiful Dory, on our 22nd wedding anniversary. We met the owners of the company, and my Canadian boyfriend appeared wearing a Santa Claus suit, because that was a joke that had been told in the group (“I’ll take any pictures you want, just don’t ask me for anything weird, like Santa Claus sitting at the dinette.”)

We spent the next three weeks traveling together in our little trailer, seeing new places, meeting new people, and joining the first ever “Altogather;” a rally with other Alto owners, on Kelly’s Island, Ohio. Eventually, Richard had to fly home from Chicago after his vacation time ran out. He cried, and said trailering was the thing he felt he was supposed to do in life, and never wanted it to end. We felt closer and more alive than we had in years, and felt the joy and playfulness we had lost from our younger days return again.

Over the next five years, we had many adventures. We visited national parks, went back to Quebec for a Grand Rassemblement gathering, and met up with many friends along the way. At another Altogather, a friend etched the number “633” into Dory’s window, because that was her production number, and back in those days, owners revered their number. We made many mods to Dory, like putting in fancy door latches, and making her electrically friendly to a 12v espresso machine and a rear screen projector.

The facebook group grew and grew, forming spin off groups for French speakers, Australian Alto owners, and interest groups for camping with pets, and cooking on the road. As you are reading this, the group is now over 10,200 members strong.

Dory was even featured on an episode of “Extreme RVs” on the Travel Channel. Season 5, Episode 8, “Elegant Bling.” Dory had Go Pro cameras suction cupped all over her, was followed by a drone camera, and Richard and I even gave awkward interviews.

During the COVID shutdown, Dory became a virtual classroom. For three months, she was parked in the driveway while countless videos were created, teaching phonics lessons. Her porthole window was the backdrop during district planning Zoom meetings, and during a presentation to the school board about special education distance learning. At the end of the school year, students showed up in that very same driveway with posters of thanks, displaying Dory, and the message: “Just keep swimming,” because that had become a motto for us all.

Then, on Friday, November 13th, 2020, it all came to a horrible end. About twenty minutes from home, while driving to a weekend camping destination, there was a sudden backup on the freeway. The roads were slick, but Dory stopped in time. The car behind Dory stopped in time. But the driver behind that car was going too fast, and just slid, pushing the car behind so forcefully, that it knocked Dory off the hitch, bending the thick steel hitch bar into almost a right angle. The safety chains were ripped off, her nose was on the ground, and a crumpled indentation was made in the rear floor, which is also where the roof is when she’s packed down. In tears and in shock, we called the only person who could help: our mechanic, Randy. This is no ordinary mechanic. This person has a passion for trailers only matched by his problem solving genius. He told us to get Dory towed to his shop and he would meet us there, after dark, on a Friday night. I also called our Alto BFF, Linda, who I knew couldn’t do anything to help, but would at least understand the magnitude of the event.

Unfortunately, the highway tow truck people who showed up on the scene had not properly secured Dory to the hitch, so Richard and I had to watch helplessly, as we followed behind in our car, while our beautiful Dory jumped off the hitch and slammed against a guard rail. Randy came to the rescue and sent his friend, Carl, whom we will call Ninja Tow Truck Driver, who got her off the barrier with no further damage.

Dory arrived at Randy’s shop, battered and beaten. Crazily, none of the glass had shattered, and her roof even still went up, but her prognosis was not good. She was emptied of all of her things and left in Randy’s shop, with a tearful promise that somehow, some day, she would come home again.

Upon closer inspection that weekend, Randy made the sad call that Dory’s camping days were over. The grief hit hard and I couldn’t bear to think of just dumping Dory in a junk yard, even if she was deemed unsafe for travel. Most people, normal people, other people would accept the loss and take the insurance money for a replacement trailer with no further fuss. To keep a non working trailer meant paying a hefty salvage fee for a “total loss” unit that could never be insured. But Dory had meant so much to us, had brought so much joy, that every bone in my body told me it felt “wrong” to get rid of her.

So, going against all sane, rational, and common sense thinking, an idea was cooked up that perhaps Dory could be repurposed as an ADU (“Accessory Dwelling Unit”) in the back yard and our daughter could live there. After all, it was a small house for four adults to live in with one bathroom. Randy, being of equally unsound mind, also thought this was a really good idea, and he vowed that he could fix Dory up enough to serve that purpose.

What commenced over that next several years was a long, grueling (expensive) process of permitting, and contractors, and noise, and dirt, to expand the house and put in a retaining wall significant enough to carve out a space for a crazy trailer in the back yard. Our daughter got a real ADU in the process and the house got a much needed overhaul, so it wasn’t all crazy.

Nearly five years passed since that fateful day, but eventually things started to fall into place. The home construction was completed, with a full hookup site at the ready. The approach to get Dory back there would not be easy, but where there’s a will, there’s a way. Randy sent photos and videos of elaborate set ups involving a winch, wood planks for stabilizing, and precision pulling to try to pull Dory’s roof into enough of an alignment that her pieces could fit together. A new rear wall was sent by Safari Condo, along with sheets of aluminum and some crucial framing pieces.

The back two or so feet of Dory’s floor had to be cut out and a new framing had to be created. Pieces from the old rear wall were used to fill the gap, and edging material had to be fitted along everything. The puzzle all fit together with the roof, side walls, and rear wall all nesting perfectly, so that the roof could go up and down, just like it always had. The lower part of the roof got covered over with aluminum and the seam was cleverly masked with an awning railing. Dory even got new working tail lights in exactly the same factory standard locations. Since she was destined for a full hookup, non garage stored life, she got an air conditioner mounted on the roof. This mod required the invention of a special spacer to match the curvature of the roof, as well as a neat and tidy installation of the wiring, barely noticeable inside.

Randy and his partner JR worked tirelessly to bring Dory back to life, leaving no detail forgotten. She even got a little switch installed so that her shiny new tail lights could turn on, without being attached to a car. And in a move that made me cry, Dory’s license plate, “DORY633,” got banged back into shape and remounted, complete with a frame and a little light. Her fixes have been so expertly done, that Randy believes Dory actually could be fully usable as a camper at this point.

The day arrived for Dory’s homecoming, and Randy texted that he was on his way with “a small army.” This army included JR, Carl the Ninja Tow Truck Driver, who had saved her on the freeway five years earlier, as well as Randy’s pet possum (recall that he is not of sound mind, but he does have a heart of gold). The small cul-de-sac was packed with vehicles. The maneuver for getting her into the back yard involved first moving her onto the flatbed tow truck, and then backing up the downhill neighbor’s driveway. Since all of the driveways on that side of the street are at a steep grade, it took multiple attempts before the flatbed could clear the driveway without scraping it. The small army of guys watched closely as the truck with Dory on top came within inches of mailboxes and parked cars until she was finally in a position where they could unload her.

Planks of wood were used as ramps while Randy masterfully guided her back, using her own Caravan Mover rotors. The front part of the fence had been designed to be removed for exactly this moment, and it worked far better than expected. Once she was up on solid ground, Randy made it look easy, as he carefully guided her along the entire side of the house, skillfully avoiding the ADU, the air conditioner, a dogwood tree, and a catio. She simply turned the corner around the side of the house and he moved her right into position at her full time, full hookup campsite home. It could not have gone any better.

From photoshopped imagination, to reality. I mean. Nailed it.

There was much emotion on that day. The promise from 2020 had been fulfilled after a long and arduous road. The homecoming celebration was made complete with a Canadian Thanksgiving themed family get together that weekend. Dory got cleaned from top to bottom, with pictures and treasured remembrances put aright. Mr. Moose, a gift given by Jim Gauvreau of Routealto80 fame, was placed again with care, as was the little wooden Alto, hand made by an Altoiste at that first rally at Kelly’s Island. A little stuffed Dory, from former full time Altoiste Annie Wynn, and an otter from Linda, were restored to their proper locations. The 633 etching is still there. She got some new bling, in the form of a slushie machine, which was quite well received by all. It turns out she makes a hell of a beverage bar for entertaining. Randy and JR, being big old softies, had gotten sucked well into Dory lore by this point, and gifted some decals, some fun table cloths, and a very appropriate T-shirt.

Dory’s story is one of joy in a time of sadness, and hope in a time of despair. Because of this little trailer, entire communities of friendship have formed. She has ventured across the country and has had reflection shots taken in some of the most stunning and scenic places you can imagine. But her journey continues now in a different form. She will be the host for gatherings, and sleepovers, and a place of quiet pondering respite. No one could have predicted at pickup that this would be the plan. Can you imagine?? “Ok Sweetie, hear me out. First we’re gonna pick up this specialized trailer from Quebec and travel around for a few years. But then we’re gonna put her in the back yard and get a new one. And we’ll probably have to get an interim one while we’re waiting. Which we won’t sell because we need a backup. But it will all make sense to us in the future, I promise.”

Friends and loved ones have watched her story, aching in solidarity with us when she crashed. Now they rejoice, exclaiming, “How wonderful!” but also whispering not so quietly, “OMG, I can’t believe those lunatics actually did it.” It’s a beautiful thing when crazy plans work, and a gentle reminder that even in the worst of times, the words of wisdom from a little blue fish make more sense than anything else in this whole stupid world: Just Keep Swimming.

Videos can be viewed here.