We’re relatively new to the vintage trailer hobby, but over the past several years, we’ve learned a lot—mostly right in our own driveway. We’re not professional restorers, but with plenty of DIY experience under our belts (home remodels, garages, kitchens—you name it), tackling an old camper just felt like the next adventure.
It all started about seven years ago when our daughter decided to bid on a vintage trailer she found on eBay. The listing was for a 1956 Aljo located in Northern California, quite a drive from our home in the south. When she won the auction, Jim, a friend, and I set out to bring it home.
During the trip, we stayed with friends near Chico, California, and while visiting their property, Jim spotted something interesting behind a neighbor’s house—a weathered old trailer half-hidden among the weeds and tires. A quick inquiry revealed it was a 1953 Terry Rambler, last registered in the 1980s and parked there ever since.
At the time, we were focused on picking up the Aljo, so we simply snapped a picture and moved on. The owner’s son, however, mentioned quietly that his dad might let it go “just to make more room.” We tucked that information away.
Back home, the Aljo proved to be a major project—rot, frame damage, missing cabinets—the works. I spent months tearing it down and documenting everything, but life got in the way. We downsized our home, our daughter relocated for work, and the Aljo ultimately had to be scrapped.
A year later, we remembered that old Terry up north. One phone call confirmed it was still there, and after agreeing on a price (sight unseen), we hitched up the truck and headed back to Chico. Our friends greased the bearings, we added new tires, and soon the trailer was on its way to a new life.
Once home, inspection revealed the kind of wear you’d expect after decades outdoors—some wood rot in the back corner and under the windows—but the floor and much of the structure were surprisingly solid. The original linoleum was still in great shape, and the Marvel refrigerator and Preway stove looked barely used. We even found the original awning, neatly folded in its box, and the factory inspection certificate still on the closet wall, which we preserved under plexiglass.
The restoration took place right in our driveway. We removed the siding and windows, polished the frames, added a couple of modern electrical outlets, and installed a small water tank with a hand pump for dry camping. Jim upgraded the tail lights for better visibility and rewired the signal system. Inside, we replaced a few lower wall panels, staining the new birch until it matched the old.
When it came time to decide on exterior paint, we couldn’t bring ourselves to cover the trailer’s story. The original dark green and cream patina tells its own tale, so we left it—weathered but proud.
Inside, we kept as much original material as possible: the cabinets, the paneling, and even the light fixtures. I made new curtains to match the blue Formica countertops and tracked down vintage 1950s curtain hardware on eBay. The seats were reupholstered in marine vinyl, and everything else was cleaned, polished, and loved back into shape.
Restoring the Terry Rambler has been deeply rewarding. Not only did we save a piece of trailer history, but we’ve also created a camper we actually use and enjoy. Today, our Terry has traveled to Yosemite, Shaver Lake, and several rallies and local campouts.
For a trailer rescued from behind a barn, she’s come a long way—and so have we.
