Our Zepplin sits now in her plastic shroud waiting for the snow to clear. A week and a half ago Ken, an insurance appraiser, came to assess the damage. He could only tell us it was bad. "You're going to have to tow it to the dealer for them to take a look," he said. "It might be totaled, but I don't know enough about these trailers to say one way or the other." These weren't words I wanted to hear. "It'll have to go to the Airstream dealer," he repeated.
Totaled. We don't even want to think about that possibility.
It warmed up on Thursday enough for me to break up the snow pile and shovel away enough that I can get the Yukon in place to tow her out. On Saturday I freed the power cable from the ice. Today Jacquie took everything that lives in the Zepplin out. Tomorrow, if it doesn't rain, we're planning to tow her down to Lebanon to Stateline, the only Airstream dealer in Maine. It's not the trip we were hoping to make to start our camping season, but we're hoping and praying that the damage is more superficial than structural, and that a few weeks in the hands of a good Airstream mechanic will bring our Zepplin back to life.
But tonight, she sits trussed up like Gulliver in Lilliput, bruised and vulnerable.