No bathroom, no standing headroom, and no rear galley. Every one of those is a decision, not a shortcut.

The bathroom is a plumbing system, a tank, and a maintenance headache in a trailer this size. It also eats the space you’d sleep in.

The rear galley is the big one, and it gets its own answer further down.

Standing headroom would mean a taller, heavier, less aerodynamic trailer that costs you fuel on every mile you tow it. The low profile is the point.

Really customize it. That’s most of what I do.

I’ve built platform roof racks solid enough to stand on, laid out cabinets around a specific set of gear, and reworked interiors around how somebody actually camps. If you have an idea, ask. Sometimes the answer is that it won’t work and I’ll tell you why. Usually it’s just a matter of figuring out how.

The earlier you ask, the easier it is. Changes before your build starts cost nothing. Changes halfway through cost time and materials.

Build to order, almost always.

Every trailer that leaves my shop was ordered by somebody specific. Once in a while I’ll have a demo unit or a trade-in available, and when that happens it goes up on the site. If you want to be told when one comes up, email me, and I’ll keep your name on a list.

Yes, by appointment.

I’m a small shop, and I don’t keep showroom hours, so call or email first, and we’ll find a time. You’ll see whatever is on the floor, you can climb in, and you can ask me anything you want for as long as you want.

Because I keep the order book small on purpose.

I build two to three trailers a month. That’s the pace I’ve decided on, and I’m not interested in growing past what I can personally stand behind. Some builders in this space are quoting into the next year right now. That’s a long time to wait for a camping trip.

I’d rather build fewer trailers, build them well, and hand them over while you still remember why you ordered one.

Sometimes. Tell me the date before you put money down.

I’ve turned builds around fast when somebody had a hard deadline, including one customer who was relocating across the country in two weeks. I won’t promise a date I can’t hit, so ask me first, and I’ll give you a straight answer.

More than you’d expect at this price point.

Queen bed and mattress, doors and windows with screens, 12v system, insulation, what else?

$6,500 to hold your build slot and start buying your materials.

I’ll be straight with you, because you’ll notice this is higher than some builders ask. I’m a small operation, and I don’t carry a line of credit. Your deposit buys the steel, the wood, the axle, and the hardware for your specific trailer, and it buys them now rather than months from now.

What you get in return is a trailer in about two weeks instead of a year or more, built from materials I already have in hand. The larger deposit and the short wait are the same fact viewed from two directions.

There will be a full refund if there are no expensive upgrades, or it’s within 10 days of delivery.

The balance is due on delivery day.

For most builds, your $6,500 deposit carries you through to the day you pick up the trailer, and the rest is due then.

If you’re paying by Zelle or a similar method, banks often cap how much you can send per day, so it can take a few days to move the full amount. Give yourself that window so nothing holds up your pickup.

The only time I’ll ask for a payment partway through is on the bigger builds, if you’ve added some expensive upgrades, or the balance after your deposit runs over $10,000. That just keeps a large build from putting too much strain on my end before it’s finished. If that applies to yours, I’ll tell you up front so there are no surprises.

Yes, through a lender called Rock Solid.

Most people pay directly, but if financing makes a build work better for your budget, Rock Solid handles it and I can point you their way. It’s a good option for some folks. Just reach out and I’ll get you the details.

Sometimes, on a case-by-case basis.

Trade-ins don’t usually work well for a small shop like mine, so it’s not something I do as a rule. That said, I’ve taken in and rebuilt an old American Teardrop frame before, so if you’ve got something you’re hoping to trade or have reworked, ask me. I’ll take a look and tell you honestly whether it makes sense.

Almost anything with a hitch, including four-cylinder crossovers.

That’s the part most people don’t believe until they try it. You don’t need a truck. Common tow vehicles that handle these trailers without complaint:

Don’t see your vehicle? Email me the year, make, and trim, and I’ll tell you honestly whether it’ll work.

Usually not, and that’s part of the appeal.

Most states only require trailer brakes once you’re over a certain weight, often around 1,500 lbs, and a typical build comes in under that at about 960 lbs dry. So for most people, no brakes needed. Check your own state’s rule to be sure, and if yours requires them, I can add them.

Worth knowing: adding brakes puts another 200 to 300 lbs on the trailer, which can cancel out the light weight that lets you tow it with a small vehicle in the first place. So unless your state or your setup calls for them, most folks are better off without.

Far less than you’re bracing for, and that’s the reason a lot of people buy from me right now.

The shape does most of the work. A teardrop is aerodynamic in a way that a boxy travel trailer never will be, so you’re not dragging a wall through the air at highway speed. With gas priced the way it is in California, that difference adds up over a long trip. It’s the difference between taking the trip and talking about taking it.

Towing, no. Backing up takes a weekend to get comfortable with.

You’ll barely feel it behind you on the highway. Backing a short trailer is trickier than backing a long one, because it responds faster, and everybody looks silly the first few times. Find an empty parking lot before your first trip, and you’ll have it figured out in an afternoon.

Yes, and I now build a platform designed for exactly that.

The Freedom Flight RTT is built around a rooftop tent setup rather than having one bolted on as an afterthought. On the standard models, you’ll want the roof rack option, and most rooftop tents on the market will mount up fine.

Every build comes standard with a Bluetti power station and 200 watts of solar, which is enough to keep your lights, phones, fans, and small gear going for a normal weekend of camping without plugging in anywhere.

If you want to go fully off-grid, out for long stretches with no hookups at all, tell me when we start your build. I’ll spec extra batteries and more solar around how you actually camp, so you have the power to match. The standard setup handles most people fine, but if you’re the type who disappears into the backcountry for a week, we’ll build for that.

Yes, within reason, and the insulation is a big part of why.

One customer towed hers through wind and heavy rain across New Mexico and Texas and slept in it the whole way. Weather isn’t the problem. Heat with no airflow is the thing to plan for, and there are simple ways to handle it.

Forest service roads and rough gravel, yes. Serious rock crawling, no, and you shouldn’t want it to.

I’ve had trailers come back from a few thousand miles of bad road with nothing wrong. Set your expectations by the tow vehicle, not the trailer.

No. I build finished trailers.

If you’re set on building your own, I respect it, and there are good resources out there for it. It just isn’t what I do.

No. These are too much trailer for a bike.

It matters more than most people realize.

Almost nobody builds custom teardrops in California anymore. That means if you’re in the West, your options are usually a trailer shipped two thousand miles from the Midwest or the South, with delivery cost and delivery risk attached, and a builder you’ll never meet if something needs adjusting.

I’m a drive away for most of Northern California, Nevada, and Oregon. You can pick it up in person, meet the guy who built it, and come back if you need something looked at.

Yes, and I’d like you to if you can.

Pickup means I get to walk you through everything in person, show you how the systems work, check your hitch setup, and make sure you leave comfortable. It’s the best version of the handoff.

Call me.

That’s not a slogan, it’s the actual process. There’s no dealer network, no service department, and no phone tree. You reach the person who built the trailer.

If it’s something I can walk you through on the phone, we’ll do that. If it needs to come back to the shop, we’ll figure out a time. I’ve fixed things that were my fault and things that were the customer’s fault, and I’ve never been interested in spending much energy sorting out which is which.

Yes. Bring it by.

American Teardrop changed hands more than once before I took over in June 2025, and I wasn’t involved in any build or service work completed before then. I can’t take responsibility for what happened under previous ownership, but I’m not going to leave you stuck either.

If you have a trailer from 2023 or earlier and something isn’t right, reach out. I’ll take a look and give you a fair, honest option for fixing it. Plenty of those trailers are still on the road and worth keeping there.

You shouldn’t, automatically. Here’s what you actually get.

I’ve been building trailers for over a decade under my own name, Second Wind Trailers, before I took over American Teardrop. The person who answers your email is the person who cuts the wood, wires the lights, and hands you the keys.

The tradeoff is real, and I won’t pretend otherwise. I build two or three trailers a month, so I can’t take unlimited orders, and there’s no showroom full of inventory to walk through. What you get instead is a trailer built by one set of hands, at a pace that lets me care about it, from someone who’ll still pick up the phone in five years.

Because my dad taught me to build things, and I never found anything I’d rather do.

He got me into the shop young, taught me how to use tools without hurting myself, and showed me what it feels like to make something real from a pile of raw material. He died at 62, before he ever got to see where that led. My son James is learning the same way now.

I’m not trying to build an empire. I want to make good trailers and help people get outside more than they do. That’s the whole plan.