Spring cleaning season is officially upon us and there's no better time than the present to get rid of all that extra stuff.

2016 was one crazy year for us. We spent 339 days in 2016 (and a few in 2015, too) traversing the lower 48 states and writing about our experience along the way. As we close this year of travel and prepare for our next big adventure (whatever that is!), we thought we'd share our most popular articles of the year.

We are officially 9 -- nay almost 10! -- months into our yearlong road trip. And one thing we continue to marvel at is just how well our 1968 travel trailer has held up. Carson and I both keep waiting for the wheels to fall off or the first fatal crack to show, but it hasn't happened (yet!).

We've been getting a lot of questions about our old camper and how we've specifically renovated certain aspects of Elsie. While we did a complete overhaul and spent nearly a year getting it all done, there are some pretty simple tricks we'd recommend to anyone purchasing an old trailer that can give it an instant facelift without all the work. 

Space is a luxury in a 120-square-ft travel trailer. And feeding your 70 lb. goldendoodle takes up more space than you think. Thus the dilemma: where would we feed Costello?

Don't get us wrong -- we visited IKEA a lot over the course of the remodel and use a lot of IKEA buys in the trailer. However, there are some times when you just have to say "screw it, I'ma build this sucker myself." 

We didn’t set out to build our own light fixtures. In fact, Elsie’s original wall sconces were among her most charming features. A bright light – literally – among a trailer that required a lot of TLC. Which is why it surprised even us when we decided to replace them.

We'll be the first to admit: the bathroom was the last room on our minds. Not because it's not important; trust us, it's vitally important. Especially when you're living on the road full-time for the year. But it was also the toughest to transform. 

We FINALLY made it. The big “after” reveal of our brand new Elsie. When we first started Camper DIY, I thought we would have reached this point months earlier. But once we started cataloging all the work we did, it slowly grew and grew. But we’re happy to finally share in great detail what Elsie looks like post-remodel. 

We don't really know what to call this thing. Work station. Chopping block. Kitchen island. Floor cabinet. And we're okay with that because we built it to be exactly this: an ambiguous work / storage / organization unit. 

Don't get us wrong -- we visited IKEA a lot over the course of the remodel and use a lot of IKEA buys in the trailer. However, there are some times when you just have to say "screw it, I'ma build this sucker myself." 

We knew the flooring would ultimately make a strong visual impression in the trailer, and picking out the right style / color / weight was something we took very seriously. 

We didn’t set out to build our own light fixtures. In fact, Elsie’s original wall sconces were among her most charming features. A bright light – literally – among a trailer that required a lot of TLC. Which is why it surprised even us when we decided to replace them.

After stripping off the old contact paper, there wasn’t much else that the cabinets needed. We primed them, painted them and planned on calling it good. But being us, we decided the cabinets needed a little something extra. Creating custom trim was the way to go.

I did successfully reupholster Elsie’s cushions with little to no sewing experience. Looking back, I probably should have started a little smaller. But seat cushions are like one big throw pillow, right?

Ultimately, we started over. We stripped out the old copper lines and replaced them with PEX, or crosslinked polyethylene, a flexible and corrosion-resistant material more in vogue with plumbers today.

At first, the avocado green didn't seem so bad. I even remember a time when I thought "that's probably one thing we actually won't change in the trailer." After coating the walls and cabinets in bistro white, however, the green sink led to the first of many "aesthetics arguments" that Jerry, Carson and myself would have over the course of the renovation.

I'd seen several cool reclaimed wood backsplashes online and wanted to try it in the trailer. After some deliberation over color and whether or not it could withstand full-time travel, all we had to do was figure out how to make it!

Elsie’s ceiling was a Frankenstein patchwork of bolts and seams and glue stitches once Jerry and Carson were done with it. We had a lot of ideas about how to cover the scars at first. Tin tiles, pennies, wood, paint. Then one winter day in Lowe’s, I stumbled upon a white, texturized wallpaper and I was sold.

Despite our plunge into lunacy, we pushed forward...Once the walls had been freed of the tyranny of the contact paper, we began the priming process. 

The one area of disrepair that Ray had been upfront about was a small hole in the corner of the ceiling. He said it probably wouldn’t take much work to fix it. “No big deal," I said. But what I had meant to say – what I was thinking – was that I had no idea if that hole in the corner was of serious concern, and that either way, I did not have the skills to fix it.

It was the calm before the storm. On November 8, 2014, the wind ceased and the autumn sun spilled over the buttes and prairies surrounding the Vaughan outpost. Elsie was parked in front of the Quonset. Demolition day had arrived.

Some things even the greatest scientific minds will never understand. Mel and I now respectively submit the following to this growing list of life’s greatest mysteries: adhesive contact paper, specifically of the woodgrain variety.

The FAN layout in 1968 was real feng shui. And she was the right age. Not that WHAM! circa-1985 “new vintage”, but Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass old.

When we first decided to renovate an old travel trailer, Carson and I spent too many late-night Google sessions researching the many brave pioneers who came before us. It was pure curiosity at first, testing to see if we were the only ones with this crazy-stupid idea. Also: what were we up against?

During these halcyon days even Lowe's couldn’t tear us down. In truth, we loved that big box, always right where we needed it, just off the highway, the florescent lights beckoning us to stop, to grab another can of paint or return an extra compression fitting.