The sidewalls are on!
As soon as I got the sidewalls up, my enthusiasm for finishing Tommy increased by leaps and bounds. My project was no longer a flatbed trailer and a collection of parts – Tommy was now visibly a teardrop trailer on track to completion.

But there was still much to do. An early next step was to attach cross members between the two side walls. These would not only support the roof, but – with suitable bracing – would hold the side walls vertical.

As with the sidewalls, the roof structure was a sandwich panel – this time an aluminum skin exterior and a plywood interior separated by the cross members and by foam board insulation.

Where did my design come from? Unlike a mass-production RV built to a specific design and sold to customers, I could produce what I liked. I had defined the layout and method of construction ahead of time without using plans drawn up by someone else. I decided on the details as I proceeded. It certainly helped that a teardrop trailer is inherently small and simple.

Ceiling construction
I quickly found that accessing some work areas became more difficult as newly built structure got in the way. Thinking ahead, I realized that it would be much easier to install the ceiling before the roof. If I completed the roof first, then the ceiling sheets would have to be inserted through the doorway, and probably more than once as I cut them to fit. Before the roof was on, the ceiling sheets could be inserted from outside by sliding them through gaps between the cross members.

Even so, the roof and ceiling were much harder to build than the sidewalls. Because they are curved in places, I had to cut a series of parallel grooves in the plywood ceiling sheets to allow them to bend. Then I glued and screwed them to the cross members. Easily done? Not exactly. It was an uncomfortable procedure for sure. Lying on my back on the trailer floor, I used my feet to push each plywood sheet up against the cross members, bending them into a curve to the

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accompaniment of creaks and groans from the wood plus a number of creaks and groans from me. Holding a ceiling panel in position with my feet, I then used my hands to screw it to the cross members. My inelegant “dead cat” position was made even less comfortable because the ceiling was higher than my arms are long, so considerable wriggling and contortion were required. But somehow it all came together without chiropractic intervention.

The cross members were spaced to allow a 14-inch gap where the roof vent was to go, with some fore-and-aft studs creating a square aperture. Once the aluminum skin was on, the vent could be dropped in from above, then sealed and screwed in place. I bought a galvanized steel roof vent rather than a more elegant plastic one that, I feared, would eventually crack in the sun.

The vent test was successful.
With insulation now glued onto the ceiling from above (with parallel cuts to allow it, too, to bend), Tommy looked like a teardrop trailer! So much so that Jennifer emerged from the air-conditioned house and risked the heat in the garage to inspect. She was beaming as she pushed her head through the vent hole, like a prairie dog emerging from its burrow. I’m fortunate to have an enthusiastic partner.

Attaching the aluminum skin to form the roof was a learning experience. I had decided to pop-rivet the skin to the cross members. Some test riveting of metal sheet to wood showed me that this would be strong, and I also liked the fact that aluminum rivets attaching aluminum sheet meant (since the two metals were similar) little risk of galvanic corrosion. But preventing leaks at the rivets required a good waterproofing adhesive between the aluminum skin and the cross members as well as in the rivet holes. Having drilled the skin and cross members to receive the rivets, I then applied the adhesive. One row of rivets went in pretty well, but I found that the holes in the skin and the cross members didn’t all line up in the second and subsequent rows now that the adhesive was present. With the glue drying fast, I abandoned rivets in favor of round-head screws with neoprene washers – something that I had readied ahead of time just in case. I rather like the “retro” look of the round-head screws, and the neoprene should prevent leaks (as similar roofing screws do), but I’m not sure my friends share my enthusiasm.


The curved roof means that the line where roof meets the sidewall becomes a constructional challenge. To carry the roof over the edges of the sidewall and guard against leaks, I had to notch the aluminum skin so it could adopt a compound curvature (bending in two directions). That junction will be heavily siliconed and sandwiched under a stretch of trim covering the unsightly edges you see pictured. Also protected by a substantial coating of silicone were the overlapping junctions between the four aluminum sheets that form the roof.

Bathroom scales showed me that Tommy’s weight and balance are approximately to plan.

Summer heat and humidity here in Florida have been oppressive, leaving my clothes drenched more than once each day – and I’ve worked only partial days at that. I’ve also experienced the cramped interior of the trailer, as I assumed the “dead cat” position to build the ceiling. And the learning curve in attaching the aluminum wasn’t a validating experience while it was happening. At those moments, I could easily see the wisdom of heading to the RV center and buying an expertly made, larger and better-equipped RV. Building my baby trailer has been a fun but challenging experience, and it’s not for everyone.

Tommy is now about two-thirds complete. Doors, windows, trim, interior, equipment and varnish are the major remaining tasks. I’ll describe those in the next article, and hopefully reach the exciting moment when Tommy emerges from the garage like that prairie dog emerging from its burrow, ready to face the great outdoors.

Read Part 1 and Part 2 in this series.