Also known as the “stay-cation.” Many RV’s in town, including our own, appear to be permanently parked in the driveway or on the lawn. The owners might say otherwise, but according to Winnebago’s Law of RV Inertia, if a camper sits idle for more than one season, there is a 97.5% chance that it will never move again.
It’s an insidious process. When we bought our motorhome, we figured it would be a perfect hybrid vacation-mobile, a home-away-from-home that would allow us to travel with our pets. Five years and numerous disasters later, I am forced to admit I have no synchronicity whatsoever with this double-axled house of horrors. The outside dimensions are huge, constantly banging into tree limbs and garbage dumpsters, while the inner ones are far too small to afford a comfortable living for two adults, two dogs, and a cat. Here are some of the things I don’t miss: Packing and unpacking the equivalent of a small house. Downsizing to a short queen bed, fourteen inches of closet space, and three kitchen cabinets accessible only by step-stool or on hands and knees. Getting lost. Blowing tires. Freezing when the propane furnace futzes on cold nights. Dealing with a 12-volt battery system that dependably powers the lighting and water pump but won’t extend the retractable stairs– the distance to the ground might be one small step for an overexcited dog with a full bladder, but it’s one giant leap for the klutzy human at the other end of his leash! Using a toilet that cannot digest Charmin Ultra. Dumping. Tripping the breaker if I microwave something while the air conditioner is running. Making do without a garbage disposal, washer and dryer, fenced-in yard, reliable high-speed internet, and a static address for postal and Amazon.com deliveries. Then, of course, there is living up to people’s expectations that when we travel, I will actually leave my tiny house-on-wheels to see the sights and do stuff.
Despite all this, I can’t quite bring myself to hang a FOR SALE sign on her. Within her walls, she holds so many memories–the good, the bad, the completely unexpected. And even permanently parked, she has proven herself to be quite useful:
Emergency bathroom
Quiet place to sleep if spouse is snoring
Generator during power outages
Extra storage space
Quarters for overnight guests
Possibly a cozy writing studio
Or Air B&B in our touristy village
Without it, I would no longer be “the cool aunt”
So stop by anytime and you can camp out right next door.
Here at Motel 666, we’ll leave the light on for ya!
And watch that first step–it’s a doozie.
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So funny! I was starting to consider the RV option after your last post, but now I’m thinking of sticking to our customary camping modus operandi: a pup tent, two (or four) sleeping bags and a styrofoam cooler in the trunk – off we go!
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I’ve noticed that many an RV has turned into a guest bedroom. In fact, if you live on a hill it would be handy for unwelcome guests. Just set them up in their bedroom-on-wheels, and then release the emergency brake.
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LOL! My lot is flat, so there goes that possibility.
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Ha! Yes, for sure thought of the storage issues when on the road but never all the maintenance. Sounds like it could be a nightmare. On the other hand, it does seem to serve it’s purpose when parked in the yard.
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I loved your take on what many must have experienced — and still are. Other thoughts for use might be: a kids’ sleep over, or main hub for late night star-watching. Thanks for the days smile!
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Bought a pop up camper years ago took only two holidays in it. Can you imagine eight people in a pop up?? The kids had fun with it tho it hosted many sleepovers 😊
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Actually, yes, I can imagine that. My aunt and uncle had a pop-up they pulled behind their station wagon. Over the years, they took many trips with their 6 girls.
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Fun story. Let us know if the sign goes up! Ursula
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