| Status Symbol |
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| Written by Christian Knight |
| Thursday, 01 May 2008 02:40 |
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Rack and Roll’s KD 65 tries to be sexy, practical, and shrinkable In the Wheel Family, the trailer is Cinderella. Hard-working and under-appreciated, it chips, rusts, and eventually shorts out. And when it does, it becomes more tedious than useful. It pinches fingers, indebts us to our neighbors, (who have to help us hitch it up), and worse, its condition embarrasses us. So we relegate it to the sputtering black exhaust of a 1980s-era Ford Econoline. That’s how John Koch saw trailers five years ago, anyway. So the mechanical engineer built and sold one, then 100. This year’s upgraded trailer—Rack and Roll’s KD 65—can’t carry loads weighing more than 250 pounds, and unless you order the accessories, it’s really only good for recreational equipment that you can attach to a pair of racks. Nonetheless, Koch has sold more than 1,000 models for $2,000 a piece. “The reason they’ll drop a few grand on one of these things is because they’re sexy and cool,” Koch says. Automobiles have their Beemers ($120,000), Benzes ($197,000), and Bentlys ($263,000). Bikes have their Trek Madones ($4,400), their Cannondale Rushes ($6,500). Heck, even baby strollers have their Dreamer Design Axioms ($1,219). Now, trailers have their KD 65s—or if you want even more gear room, the KD 78. I’ve never cared too much for status symbols. They’re too expensive. I try to be as efficient with my time and my space as I am with my money. And that’s why the KD 65 made sense to me. I received it in the form of an assembly manual, three boxes ,and three bags of bolts and nuts. After five hours of building and cussing, I was towing three whitewater kayaks to the put-in. During the following week, I drove whitewater and sea kayaks around the city, up the Interstate, and when I was all through, I packed the trailer into a garage already housing a minivan, four bikes, four kayaks, and shelves of gear and hardware. It fits nicely. And breaking it down took less than two minutes. My conclusion after using it is this: the trailer becomes more practical with every additional boat you stack and every extra mile you drive. My gas economy seemed to improve and the rack is compatible with both Thule and Yakima components. Just as important, I didn’t find myself worrying that the boats would spin off the vehicle’s roof like Frisbees and trigger a 75-car collision, because 1) I knew the boats were drafting in my slipstream, and 2) to ensure my peace of mind, all I had to do was glance at the rear-view mirror. At one point on I-5, I caught myself cruising at 85 mph, and when I checked my load in the rear-view mirror, it was gliding right along, no fishtailing. That, says Koch, is possible because each of the four-wheel bearings are rated to handle four times the weight of the trailer, the suspension is tough and flexible, and each tire is rated for twice the weight of the recommended load. That’s not to say the trailer doesn’t come with its own set of concerns. The entire thing is made of aluminum, light, but not as strong as steel. And the Chinese assembly line seems to have wired this particular trailer incorrectly, something Koch says will be true of about 10 percent of this year’s shipment and a problem he will eliminate through customer service. “We’ll be checking 100 per month after they come off the ship,” he says. “I can’t sell the best trailer in the world and have a customer have electrical problems.” Originally Published, Paddler May-June 2008 |
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