So this is going to come off as a first line of a Country and Western song, but I really love my truck. I bought him in college because my vehicle at that time was on its last legs. It wasn’t exactly what I wanted as it was Orange, a single cab, and had a 4 cylinder engine, but I figured that it would do until I got out of school and moved on to something more to my ideal. That truck has evolved in to a commuting/road tripping machine. Below is the story of his evolution.

Here I am eight years later and we are still together: Me and Wink. Funny name for a truck? Not really. Right after I drove him off the lot a head light burned out. I fixed it and two weeks later the other burned out. It went on like that; one then the other going for about a year until I got pissed off about it and decided to cure the disease instead of treating a symptom. I am no slouch when it comes to electronics and I assaulted him with a digital multi-meter, probes and extension wires. I traced the circuit from the switch on the steering column to the fuse box, to the firewall, and onto the head lights. Nothing. It looked at every wire and every connection. Still nothing. I tore into the fuse box and the switch and the headlight. Nothing… Short of replacing the system piece by piece until the issue was solved I had no other idea how to fix the damn thing. After a while, I just learned to live with it and started carrying a couple of extra headlights for roadside repairs. At some point during a multi vehicle & multi day road trip, someone remarked that my truck was “winking again.” That remark led to a semi-nude drunken christening ceremony and the name stuck.

A year and a half ago, I was zoning out while driving home and noticed that a light had turned red in just enough time to stomp on my brakes and mutter some foul words before snapping the front axle of an ’87 Honda Accord as I slid into the intersection. The accident was completely my fault and aside from the guilt that I felt for ruining some poor guys weekend by smashing his car, I also felt guilty for hurting Wink. The damage was pretty bad and the insurance company went back and forth on totaling him. I was almost heart broken, like the vet had just told me that it would be best to put my faithful pup down because ‘he was suffering.’ I was pretty happy when they decided that Wink wasn’t lost. It took two and a half months, a new bumper, new grill, new front hubs, new hood, two new fenders and a paint job, but he was returned to looking like new.

After I bought him, I but a tool box on with a custom built interior. I designed and built drawers, slots, and compartments that held a full range of shadowed-in carpentry and mechanics’ tools. There was a place for an axe, shovel, levels, a framing square, a gas can, tire chains, a tow strap and various other essentials. I even mounted two bike fork holders on top of the box so that I could put two bikes in upright in the bed. The interior of the box was built out of exotic woods that were left over form this or that project and the interior of each compartment was outdoor carpet to eliminate tool rattle. A master work of utility, if I do say so myself. The only issue was that it took away from two feet of my truck bed’s length and made it impossible to either put on a topper or a bed/tailgate tent for weekend trip into the mountains or along the back roads, which is what I really wanted my truck to be able to do. I ended up selling the tool box to a guy who would appreciate it functionality and my organizational, design, and craftsmanship. The last I heard, he was still using and loving it.

I had informally looked for a camper top for Wink since I lived in Colorado. I saw it as a natural progression in his utility. I did some preliminary sketches on a bed platform that would allow the greatest use of space and organization. They ranged from a simple sheet of plywood installed at the wheel-well level to very ornate and complicated systems of compartments and drawers. I shared my drawing with like minded buddies and a couple built similar platforms for their trucks. I didn’t get really serious about actually buying a topper until I moved to California. I looked for used models, but they never fit or were lime green. New was out of the question. Sure I could get one that matched my paint exactly, but it would set me back $1200. I am WAY too cheap for that. I have a buddy with a huge enviro-killing beast of a truck that has a manufactured carpet and platform kit. We have spent many nights in it and it is crazy-comfy, configurable for a number of uses, and easy to pull out if the need to haul something dirty and nasty arises. While I coveted his kit, there was no way I was going to pay $500 bucks for one.

One day this summer I was doing my weekly browsing on Craig’s List and a red camper shell from a Nissan just sort of popped up on my screen. I called the number and the seller also mentioned that he had a rack for the topper and a carpet kit if I was interested. Hell, yes I was interested!! I called a buddy, got some cash and made the forty-five minute drive to the seller’s house. The topper was in perfect shape and the guy had used it for a couple of years for the same thing I wanted it for. I took one look at the carpet kit and almost shed a little tear: it was exactly the same as my buddy’s that I had enjoyed so much. The price was PERFECT! The topper, kit, and Yakama roof rack cost me a total of $450, making my total saving somewhere around $1300, something that sang to my stingy black heart.

The only real issue was while we were loading the carpet kit in a huge field rat that had been squatting in one of the compartments made a run for it. I thought, ‘Man, now I’m going to have to scrub that out.’ Little did I know… It turned out that our friend the rodent was sharing his place and the other occupant did not feel the relocation of his home warranted an evacuation. A poor decision on his part that cost us both, him more so. After bringing the topper and carpet kit home, I left it parked for a couple of days in the ninety-degree heat. When I finally go around to opening up the back to clean it all up, I was greeted with the smell of bloated death. It was foul! I pulled the kit out, found the source of the olfactory assault and with a little help hosed the whole assembly out, doused it with cleaner, sealed the wood in the offending compartment with clear polyurethane and left it in the sun to dry.

All that work helped, but there still lingered a decently strong odor. I just lived with it. That was apparently a mistake. Laurel and I were making some camping plans and I decided to air the back out some by opening Wink’s back window, allowing the cab and camper air to mingle. Laurel almost puked and jumped from the truck. If we were ever going camping in it, I was going to have to get serious about the odor. I pulled it all out again, took it to the car wash and sprayed and scrubbed on each piece for a total of an hour. Then, I brought it home, rinsed it all thoroughly with fresh water and doused the thing in pet odor eliminating enzyme. After it all dried, I painted the compartment where the rat was with two coats of latex paint. While the carpet kit was out, I scrubbed the inside of the topper and my truck bed. As a finishing touch, I coated everything with Fabreez. As a test, I left it all closed up for three days and checked it for any odor: all gone!

Wink is now a road trip machine with the addition of new tires, a CD/MP3/Windows Media player (from a bonus), two free bike trays, snowboard holders, and a long slim Thule cargo box to the rack. I plan on getting some serious use out of him this winter, spring, and summer while peak bagging, hiking, climbing, boarding, and camping. He is still not pretty and of the four hamsters I have running under the hood for power – three are retarded and one is dyslexic. None of that matters though. As he is now, Wink has lived up to his full potential as a truck.

Update:

Well, I have taken Wink off on a couple of adventures since the installation of the camper shell and it worked out really well (10 total nights in the snaow and cold) with a couple of exceptions.

1. The space between the topper and the carpet platform is a little tight. With just me sleeping there it is fine, but with two people sharing the space there is only room to sleep and no room to move around or to rearrange your stuff. Even with Laurel, who is small, the space was confining. With my buddy Ross, who is not small, it is downright coffin-like. There is also no room to sit up either, which sucks when the wind and snow is blowing outside and you just want to spend some time writing or reading out of the weather.
2. There is no room to cook or eat in the topper.
3. The condensation build up was pretty significant unless the windows were completely open. This made for really cold nights in the snow and in the rain you have to live with either water coming in the vent windows or dripping off the roof onto your forehead way too early in the morning.

I have some ideas to fix these problems: dropping the platform, getting a tailgate tent for a place to sit and cook and some sort of covered roof vent and carpet insulation for the topper. I will do so tinkering and write about it when I come up with the right fixes.

Drawings for the various platform and rack ideas are here.

Pictures of Wink at various stages of his evolution are here.