Sunday, October 19, 2014


Every blogger plots somewhere on the continuum between "poser" and "gut-spiller".  The poser is the one who always seems to have the carefree photogenic life documented precisely in an endless series of perfect selfies, whereas the gut-spiller's life is a total reality trip, unstaged.
It doesn't get any more real than this:  Husband beneath our Airstream Interstate RV, grappling with a grey water tank issue that I will describe in a future post.  This kind of activity should never be attempted unless you have the skills to do it.  My husband has been crawling beneath motor vehicles literally since he was in diapers.  He has a knowledge base that is very rare among the American middle class these days.

I wanted to throttle him for not wearing safety glasses here.  Usually he does wear them.    
I strive to achieve a healthy balance between the two expressional extremes, but I probably plot much closer to the gut-spiller end of the continuum.  As such, this blog will show a large number of candid moments and procedures, none of which I advise you to try to replicate for yourself.  I will be showing these things for reference only, as one piece (not the only piece) of the content that you might be able to use in making better-informed decisions about how to manage your own vehicle.
One piece of the larger puzzle:  If nothing else, hopefully this blog will help you to determine what you should be expecting from a professional mechanic that you hire to fix your issues.  
DIY work is inherently risky.  It requires skill, and even with skill and personal protective equipment (PPE), things can go wrong that could lead to economic losses, personal injury, or even death.
Outside of my comfort zone:  When my husband asked me to squeeze beneath our vehicle so that I could assist him with the grey water tank, I made a point of measuring the clearance at the running boards.  "THERE'S ONLY NINE AND A HALF INCHES OF BLOODY CLEARANCE!" I bellowed.  "Yeah, but it opens up to a lofty twelve inches once you clear the boards," he responded cheerily.  
Nothing in this blog can be construed as constituting advice in your personal situation.  You need to work within the limits of your own skill set.  And you need to consult with trained and certified professionals in managing your own Airstream Interstate.
Get me out of here:  Your blogger, on what I consider to be the absolute wrong side of the drive shaft.  I had to use a lot of my yoga skills to get there.

A lot of DIY sounds simple in description but actually turns out to be much more challenging than it looks.  And I, for one, am not comfortable beneath this vehicle - it's too claustrophobic for me.  Even if it were raised, it still would be too claustrophobic.  
Additionally, no content on this blog has been endorsed or approved by either Airstream (manufacturer of the RV component) or Mercedes (manufacturer of the vehicle and chassis, which is a Dodge-replated T1N, also known as a Sprinter).  From time to time, we will be showing experimental solutions and fixes that have not necessarily been investigated by either manufacturer, and which may not be approved by those manufacturers if they were investigated.
Picture with a quote or a DIY description.  DIY is an iterative process and we are probably going to get some things wrong.  
 As I mentioned in our WELCOME post, this is a noncommercial blog that relates personal opinions only.  We are providing opinions as a reciprocal public service because others have done the same in ways that have helped us, especially on Sprinter Forum and the Airstream Sprinter and B-Van Forum.  
We are not getting paid to do this.  It's a labor of love.  
This disclaimer will be updated from time to time as I discover additional new ways of encouraging you not to accidentally kill yourself with DIY.

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