In 1969, while the rest of the world watched Neil Armstrong take one small step, this trailer was parked at a NASA facility housing the people who made it happen. Space-age aluminum with a provenance that money can't buy and a story that gets better every time the sun goes down.

We restored it with respect for what it is. The bones are original. The curves are original. The feeling you get when you step inside and realize where this thing has been? That's original too.

Spartan built the Executive Mansion for people who wanted aircraft-grade luxury on wheels. This one got something better than a retirement community. It became a working art studio. Canvases in, canvases out, paint on surfaces that were never meant to be painted.

We kept the creative energy and cleaned up the livability. The art studio history is baked into the walls. You can still feel it. Some guests say they sleep better here. Some say they dream different. We just say it's the Spartan.

Nobody ever told you the desert could feel like a Danny Elfman fever dream. Dark. Weird. Perfect. Dead Man's Party is our love letter to Oingo Boingo, to new wave, to the part of the '80s that didn't age because it was never trying to be normal in the first place.

The interior leans into it. This isn't your grandmother's vintage trailer. This is the one your grandmother warned you about. Sleep here if you want your desert experience with a side of strange. No one is leaving.

1955. Eisenhower in the White House. Rock and roll on the radio. And Spartan rolling this Imperial Mansion off the production line with aircraft-grade aluminum and the kind of build quality that makes modern RVs look like they're held together with wishes.

This is the time capsule. The one that feels like stepping through a door in the desert and landing in 1955. We restored it to be livable but we didn't modernize the soul out of it. The chrome is original. The fixtures are original. The feeling is original. You're just the latest guest in 70 years of stories.