 We never expected to spend our first three days back on the road on our roof, but there we were. The wind blowing against the front of our rig as we traveled down the highway made our slack rubber roof membrane flap, pulling open the Eternabond tape at the leaky seam we had sealed. More than likely, that seam had already been compromised by trapped moisture between the first and second repair jobs. Having met up with full-time RVer brother Tom to boondock in the desert, Bob ascended the ladder to the roof to adjust our solar panels so they could receive maximum sunlight throughout the day to charge our batteries. If he hadn’t, we likely wouldn’t have known about the roof issue — until we had another rain-produced leak. (We’ve since added a roof check to our disconnecting the trailer from the truck checklist.)  To the Rescue Unpleasantly aware of the problem, we knew we needed to address it right away, before any rain came our way. Our boondocking neighbor turned out to be a godsend. Doug is a roof pro who specializes in solar panel installations. Although our solar panels didn’t need attention, his expertise lent itself well to our situation. He recommended peeling away the tape and caulk from our last repair job, removing the trim piece that seals the nose cap to the rubber membrane, and pulling the fabric taut under the cap before resealing the trim piece in place. That’s one thing we hadn’t done before: remove the trim. Maybe that was the missing link. Once again, we climbed onto the roof and started tearing apart the Eternabond tape and Dicor self-leveling sealant we had put in place two months earlier. This time, though, we had an oscillating tool that made light work of the job — and saved our fingers from blisters. Thanks, Tom!  We succeeded in removing the old tape and sealant. Although we were eager to repair the issue, 15 to 17 mph headwinds prevented us from doing so. We didn’t want to remove the trim piece only to have the wind get a hold of the membrane and make matters worse. We had to wait for the wind to die down. Slow-Going The next morning, we ascended the ladder to the roof, removed the screws holding the trim piece in place, and cleaned off the silicone clinging to the trim. Because the sun hadn’t risen very high to warm the air, the rubber roof membrane had no slack. As a result, we couldn’t pull it taut under the nose cap.  Our window of opportunity to replace the trim piece before the wind picked up quickly shrunk. Needing the weather to cooperate, we were reminded of Proverbs 19:21, which says, “Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” During our break, I went back to work, and Bob did prep work for the repair job. That involved completely eliminating any remaining silicone from the trim piece, adding waterproof butyl tape to its underside, and cleaning the seam area to accept new sealant. The break also gave Bob an opportunity to consult with Doug about the best way to move forward. Bob readied himself to head into town to get an aluminum slat to secure on the roof directly behind the trim to prevent any remaining slack fabric from pulling open the seam again. Mission Complete Doug happened to have a 3-inch-wide piece and offered to cut it to the size we needed. We gladly paid for that convenience. (Did I mention Doug was a godsend?) Bob drilled pilot holes in the piece and sanded down the corners to prevent them from ripping new holes in the roof. Back on top of the trailer, we pulled the rubber membrane as taut as we could, unable to get it back to its original spot. We did the best we could and secured the trim piece, followed by the aluminum slat — instead of Eternabond tape. The aluminum would prevent any flapping fabric from ripping apart at the seam.  Bob resealed all around the trim and aluminum with Dicor self-leveling sealant to keep rain from finding its way into our rig. Just as the “third time’s the charm” saying proved true in fixing the water problems that plagued us for months, we’re hopeful it will be true of our roof repair. Time will tell. You might also like Attack of the Killer Cardinal. 
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 After many weeks of daily shammy wringing to eliminate water that had been collecting at the front of our fifth wheel in a very difficult-to-get-to area, I had had enough. With travel right around the corner, I considered calling a mobile RV tech, but I didn’t want to look foolish — like the time we called an RV tech to fix a leaky gray wastewater tank valve, only to learn we had two gray tanks. Desperate Times, Desperate Measures I decided to take things into my own hands to see what I could see. Ascending our adjustable ladder at its shortest configuration, I crammed myself into the bunklike top storage compartment at the front of our rig and maneuvered into a sitting position, my feet dangling. (So much for not looking foolish.) A thick layer of (mostly) puffy fiberglass insulation blocked my view. I couldn’t even see past the flatter insulation, the fibers of which had been broken down by water steadily seeping through it. Not willing to deal with any more water torture, I determined to get a better look. Clad in long sleeves, gloves, and an N-95 mask, I engaged our trusty channel-lock pliers to grab the cotton candy-like substance and remove it. A metal beam forming the floor of our bedroom prevented me from sticking my hands in very far to get to the stuff. Able to grab only a small portion at a time, the pliers made for a slow removal process. Taking a break, I noticed a full edge of insulation sticking out on the left side. I grabbed hold of it and, sure enough, was able to pull out a whole chunk — and then another chunk.  This left the most compromised portion due to water damage. Little by little, piece by piece, opening and closing the pliers, I yanked it all out. I finally had complete visibility of the plywood forming the compartment ceiling. Finding the Culprit Shining a flashlight across the exposed plywood revealed a clue as to the root of the problem. The passenger side of the compartment clearly showed water spots. I pried myself out of the bay, eager to tell Bob of my findings.  As it turns out, red and blue PEX pipes run along that side of the rig from our basement to the washing machine hookups in the bedroom. Opting to forgo an onboard washer and dryer leaves water in those pipes with nowhere to go. We had checked the pipes on more than one occasion. They looked fine and showed no signs of leakage. Yet, every indication pointed to them being the issue. With the sun dipping close to the horizon, I stuffed shammies between the front compartment’s plywood and silver bubble wrap floor to catch any remaining water drops. We headed to The Home Depot to get some shutoff valves for the cold and hot water pipes leading to the laundry hookups. We should have listened to fellow full-time RVer friend Alan when he had suggested that. A Long-Term Solution The next morning, much to my delight, I opened the front compartment and found absolutely no water — for the first time in numerous weeks. This confirmed our theory that the insulation had been slowly wicking away the moisture. We decided to install the valves anyway from our basement as a safety measure. With the city water to the trailer turned off, Bob drained any remaining liquid from the pipes, cut and secured them to the valves, and attached the valves to the rig so that they wouldn’t dislodge the lightweight PEX when Gulliver pulled Tagalong down the road. If it weren’t for the original roof leak that had alerted us to a problem, we may have never known about this slow drip. We’re thankful to truly be above water once again.
You might also like Gulliver Gets a Tow.  After driving our fifth wheel RV across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, we savored a couple of fun-filled days in Ocean City, Maryland, with our friends Frank and Pam. We’ve been very blessed in that wherever we’ve visited, our hosts have wanted to immerse us in their locale to show us why they enjoy the area. Ocean City was no exception. Situated between the Atlantic Ocean and the Isle of Wight Bay, Ocean City is best known for its saltwater taffy and 3-mile-long boardwalk. It’s also the White Marlin Capital of the World. Although we didn’t sample the taffy or marlin, we did visit the boardwalk. Here are three highlights from our time in Ocean City: 1. Assateague Island  Part of the National Park Service, Assateague Island National Seashore is a 37-mile strip of land between the Atlantic Ocean and the Chincoteague Bay. It offers a refuge for wild horses and ocean-goers alike, with options for camping, fishing, kayaking, and even driving on the beach. After a day behind the steering wheel, the island provided a welcome getaway. We dipped our toes in the cool sand, walked up to our ankles in the surf, and captured photos of wild horses and deer. Some believe the horses to have survived a shipwreck off the Virginia coast. Although that may be folklore, the horses have proven themselves survivors of the area’s heat, storms, and mosquitoes. 2. Boat Excursion  A sunny day provided the perfect opportunity for a boat ride. Watercraft rentals and tours abound. We boarded Frank and Pam’s pontoon boat, along with a couple of their friends, for a private excursion. As the sea sprayed our faces, Frank zipped us across the Isle of Wight Bay and under the Ocean City Expressway bridge. Then he turned around and headed to a popular waterfront eatery that provides mooring and complimentary water taxi service from boat to restaurant.  Seacrets offers good eats of salads, sandwiches, and Caribbean specialties in an outdoor, “Gilligan’s Island” type of setting. After filling our bellies, we made our way through the sand back to the water taxi. It whisked us to the pontoon for a pleasant journey back to shore.  3. Ocean City Boardwalk Can you really visit Ocean City without exploring the boardwalk? I don’t think so. As we emerged from the car, screams of excitement and the aroma of fried food filled the air.  The boardwalk provides an ideal spot for people watching, with beachgoers tanning and splashing, weekenders flying kites, walkers strolling the esplanade, vacationers looking for a thrill, and shoppers searching for the perfect find.
We steered clear of the touristy amusement park rides but had to try the raved-about Thrasher’s french fries. The fries gave us an excuse to relax on a bench to take in all the excitement. They tasted good, but we didn’t find them all that special. Getting up, we ventured into only a couple of stores. As full-time RVers, we don’t have room for a lot of souvenirs or knick-knacks, which makes window shopping easy. Ocean City provided a serene respite between travel days. We appreciated catching up with Frank and Pam and touring the sights. You might also like 7 Historical Things to Do in Virginia.  Across the country, campgrounds range from desert scenery with a picnic table and firepit to RV resorts nestled in trees and mountains offering all the bells and whistles: laundry facilities, pools, recreation activities, go-kart rentals, and more.
Although the latter options may sound like good places to visit, we typically avoid anything that has “resort” in the name. Here are four reasons why: 1. We Don’t Use the Amenities Most RV resorts include some combination of cable TV hookups, Wi-Fi, swimming pools, showers and bath houses, laundromats, miniature golf courses, and pickleball and/or tennis courts. Some even feature weekly movies, hay rides, pancake breakfasts, and things like that. Although those are appealing, we don’t have much use for them. As full-time RVers, Tagalong is our home. He stores everything we need for daily living and recreation, other than a washer and dryer. 2. They’re Geared for People on Vacation RV resorts, like hotel resorts, are really targeted at people on vacation. When you book a site for a week at an RV resort, the property managers expect you to take advantage of all they have to offer. When our kids were young, we spent our summer vacations in a travel trailer at a KOA near the Grand Canyon. It provided something for all of us: a playground, game room, and movies for the kids; a pool, mini-golf, and hayrides for the family; and a relaxing getaway for us as a couple while the kids played with friends and immersed themselves in activities. More recently, we stayed at an RV resort in Vermont because of its proximity to some friends we wanted to visit. In our full week there, we didn’t use the pool or mini-golf once, although we did visit the on-site laundromat. Since I work all week, the noise of vacationers can be a distraction. RV walls are not very thick. Fortunately, I have noise-canceling earphones that prevent background noise from trickling through my microphone on Zoom meetings. 3. They Nickel and Dime You Some of the aforementioned amenities come at a price. The Vermont RV resort charged for Wi-Fi, for example. If you’re already paying more at a resort than you would at a campground, shouldn’t Wi-Fi be included in the price? Because we travel all over, we had our own Wi-Fi setup and didn’t need to pay for that service. (This was before we purchased Starlink.) This resort also charged $9 per bundle of firewood for the convenience of having it in the camp store. Resourceful campers could find it cheaper outside the campground if they looked. The same bundle of wood cost only $5 at the campground we stayed at in Maine. 4. They Have a Lot of Rules It seems that part of the fees at RV resorts go to establishing and communicating rules. Whether or not those restrictions are enforced is another story. The Vermont resort wanted to charge our friends $4 just to enter the park to visit us. Maybe the operators thought our guests would use the amenities? Kelly called the office and sweet-talked her way out of the fee by assuring the worker that she and Jim would not be using the amenities. Rules have a place and are important to ensure order. But if we have a choice between paying extra money to stay at a location that has lots of rules or camping where we can be carefree, we’ll choose the latter every time — unless the first is our only option in close proximity to some friends or family we want to catch up with. You might also like How We Determine Our RV Stops.  As a type C personality (the rule-abiding perfectionist cousin of type A), I’m a creature of habit. I have a system of order for doing most everyday tasks, such as getting dressed, eating breakfast, making coffee, etc. Bob is a type B personality (relaxed and social). That means he goes with the flow and easily adapts to the different times and locations in which we find ourselves. Little did I know when I married him that his relaxed, adaptable personality would rub off on me. He quickly brought chaos to my order and has rounded my straight edges. That’s actually a good thing, or I likely wouldn’t survive as a full-time RVer. I relish our lifestyle, but I do have a few confessions to share. 1. Routines Are Difficult Full-time RV living isn’t conducive to routine. As we travel the country, we cross time zones. That means sometimes I have a couple of hours in the morning for personal activities, such as exercise. In other locations, I have to start my workday shortly after rolling out of bed. Carving out time for fitness can be challenging. At my last in-office job, the building had a big square in the center connecting four wings in each direction. Every time I got up from my desk to use the restroom or talk to a co-worker in another area, I’d take a lap around the inner square. Living in 400 square feet doesn’t afford that opportunity. Walking from my work-from-home office to the restroom takes all of 12 steps. That doesn’t give me much exercise. I have to make a point to pull myself away from work, lace up my sneakers, and get outside to walk. Some camping locations offer more walking options than others. We stayed at a Boondockers Welcome site in South Carolina where I could walk a dirt road to the main two-lane country road. The dirt road wasn’t even a mile long. I didn’t dare walk the country road for fear of a car racing down and not seeing me. We’ve also stayed at campgrounds that feature walking trails where I can get plenty of steps in. I try to take advantage of those.  Sometimes I use a phone app to help me with strength training as well, but that too is inconsistent, depending on our situation. It took me more than two months to complete a four-week, full-body workout challenge. 2. Showers Aren’t Luxurious You may have heard of military showers, where troops get two minutes to get wet, lather up, and rinse. RV showers can be similar. Because we have limited gray water tank space, we don’t like to let the water run, even when we’re connected to freshwater. So, we follow the military example but don’t limit ourselves to two minutes. We wait for the water to warm, get wet, turn it off, lather up, and turn the water on again to rinse. I have another rinse for hair conditioner. When my hair was shorter, I mastered a seven-minute shower. Now that my hair’s longer, my showers are too, as it takes more time to get all the shampoo and conditioner out of my mane. I stopped timing them, in case you’re wondering about my current record. Because showers are no longer luxuries, we, and many RVers, don’t take them as often as we used to. Wet wipes come in handy for the in-between times. 3. Clutter Creep Is Real With limited living space, it’s easy for open areas to fill with things. Important books and reading materials we reference semi-regularly occupy the end tables on either side of our couch. Food containers, fruit, and drinking ware crowd the island counter. Unread mail, loose change, and miscellaneous items we’re not sure what to do with take up real estate on the dining table. This is especially problematic during a long-term RV stay, when we don’t have to pack our belongings and close the trailer for travel. It’s easy to put off cleaning the areas, find something else to focus on, and pretend the items aren’t there. But they don’t go away until we intentionally address the clutter creep. 4. Sometimes We Barely Fit Campsites come in many shapes and sizes. Some are expansive, offering plenty of space for our 42-foot rig and 23-foot truck, with our nearest camping neighbor shouting distance away. We enjoy the peace and quiet these situations provide. Other camping spots are tight, such as the one we stayed at in Wisconsin. Our deepest slide, my office, rested about 8 inches from our camping neighbor’s window. I kept my window shade pulled there.  In Branson, Missouri, we had to strategically park our rig to be able to open our basement compartment between a post and the electric pedestal to complete our setup. At a spot in Florida, our front door opened to a palm tree. We stayed there so long that we had to trim the tree to keep its leaves from entering our home. 5. The Scenery Is (Mostly) Great Despite the routine challenges, clutter creep, and tight accommodations, the RV life does offer a lot of perks. One of the best is being able to see God’s beautiful, diverse creation as we traverse the country. From the vast Great Lakes and wooded forests to picturesque deserts, farms, and small towns, we get to see incredible sights. Most are gorgeous. Some even border on breathtaking. Others leave a bit to be desired, like the sketchy RV spot we found ourselves in behind a hotel in Ashland, Oregon.  “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” as the saying goes. We can find beauty in every circumstance in which we find ourselves. Sometimes we just have to look a little harder for it.
You might also like What RV Living Is Really Like. Like many trades and industries, the RV industry has its own lingo. You may have come across a term and wondered what it meant. Here, we explain some of the common vernacular of the lifestyle, as well as some of our own terms.
awning - a vinyl sun shade that connects to the side of an RV and extends manually or electrically black water tank - a temporary holding tank for toilet water basement - storage under an RV’s flooring that’s accessible from the outside boondocking - camping off the grid; no electric, water, or sewer hookups class A motorhome - a big-rig, bus type of RV class B motorhome - a camper van class C motorhome - a drivable RV that has a bed over the top of the cab; smaller than a class A motorhome dually - a truck that has four tires on a single rear axle dump station - a location where it’s safe to empty RV tanks; it may or may not have potable water fifth wheel - an engineless RV that connects via a kingpin or gooseneck in the bed of a pickup truck fiver - another name for a fifth wheel RV freshwater tank - a temporary holding tank for potable water full hookups - electric, water, and sewer connections glamping - glamorous camping; can be in a cabin or in a big-rig RV gray water tank - a temporary holding tank for shower and sink wastewater Gulliver - our 2018 Dodge Ram 3500 dually with a Cummins 6.7-liter diesel engine loft - an elevated interior space; it’s often above another room and may contain sleeping space moochdocking - staying on the property of friends or family and using (“mooching”) their amenities, such as electric, water, and/or laundry motorhome - a drivable RV residential refrigerator - an RV refrigerator that runs on normal, 120-volt, household AC electricity RV - recreational vehicle shore power - RV electricity from the electric grid slideout - expandable section of an RV that slides out on rails when stationary to increase living space sticks and bricks - a traditional, stationary house stinky slinky - the flexible hose used to dump RV wastewater tanks Tagalong - our 2018 Jayco Pinnacle 37MDQS fifth wheel with four slides; it measures 42 feet long and 13 feet, 3 inches tall three-way refrigerator - an RV refrigerator that can run on propane, 120-volt household AC electricity, or 12-volt DC battery power toad - the vehicle towed behind a motorhome toy hauler - a travel trailer or fifth wheel that has an opening ramp in the back to haul an ATV, motorcycle, or golf cart travel trailer - an engineless RV that connects to a ball hitch off the bumper of a vehicle two-way refrigerator - an RV refrigerator that can run on propane or 120-volt household AC electricity weekend warrior - an RVer who takes their rig out on the weekends rather than living in it full time  The city of Yuma, Arizona, is the sunniest place on the planet, with 4,015 hours of sunlight per year, according to Sleepopolis. That and its location on the Colorado River and the border of California and Mexico make it a gathering place for winter visitors looking to escape the cold temperatures of the North. The metropolis has been attracting visitors to its expansive desert landscape and river banks since the 1700s, when explorers recognized the Yuma Crossing as a practical route between Sonora, Mexico, and Northern California. The area’s appeal quickly expanded in the 1800s with the American gold rush, followed by the establishment of an Army fort and eventually a territorial prison, which still stands today. We had toured the Yuma Territorial Prison and some other highlights on a previous trip to the area. It’s worth exploring. While visiting my parents in Yuma more recently, we found some other cool digs. 1. Tour Castle Dome City, Ghost Town, and Museum  About an hour’s drive from Yuma, the Castle Dome Museum, named for the castle-shaped mountain that stands as its backdrop, is worth the trip. Unlike many touristy ghost towns, this one offers an authentic picture of life in the 1800s, including numerous artifacts left over from the era of mining silver-galena — or silver ore mixed with lead — from 300 mines. The mines were in operation from the mid-1800s to 1979, when the price of silver dropped. During WWI and WWII, the military harvested lead from the mines to make ammunition. For a $15 admission ($16 with a credit card), you can explore the town’s more than 50 buildings, including a schoolhouse, a mercantile with an attached dentist office, a church, a former restaurant, a hotel, multiple bars/saloons, a bank, a barber shop, a dress shop, and a whole lot more. You’ll even find remnants from the town’s later days in the 1970s. To get a better picture of the attraction to this out-of-the-way destination, you can go down into the mine and see the minerals glistening in black light. The $75 fee for that tour includes admission to the museum/ghost town. Whether you explore the museum or both the museum and mine, plan to spend at least a couple of hours there enjoying a piece of history. 2. See an Aerostat Blimp  Tethered near the Castle Dome City ghost town, an odd shape caught our eye. A 208-foot-long white blimp stood ready to launch in support of the U.S. Customs and Border Protection. Its mission? In conjunction with nine other Aerostat blimps that form the Tethered Aerostat Radar System (TARS) — a 10,000-foot-high radar fence — it monitors the Southern U.S. border for low-flying aircraft attempting to smuggle illegal drugs into the country. The history of TARS dates back to the early 1980s, when the first helium-filled balloon launched in the Bahamas. Today, TARS spans from Yuma to Puerto Rico. The Yuma blimp is secured near the Yuma Proving Ground. We saw the balloon tied down close to the terrain, as well as extended in the air, above the mountains. 3. Explore the Colorado River  Yuma owes much of its existence and livelihood to the mighty Colorado River, which played a major role in getting supplies to the Army base there in the mid-1800s. In fact, Yuma is the oldest city on the Colorado River, according to Yuma Crossing National Heritage Area. In addition to providing water for crops grown in Yuma, the largest producer of winter vegetables in the country, the Colorado offers recreational water activities such as canoeing, kayaking, tubing, boating, fishing, and swimming. It also provides a nice setting for picnics, bike rides, and walks. We reveled in the beautiful scenery while enjoying a picnic lunch, followed by a leisurely stroll along the banks. Gateway Park meanders under Interstate 8, providing panoramic views of the Ocean-to-Ocean Bridge, which opened to the public in 1915 as the first highway crossing of the lower Colorado River. Stretching along the southern side of the river, the park offers walking paths that take visitors across the border to California and back again. We had always thought the river marked the border between the two states. We found out otherwise and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to venture into California without crossing the Colorado.  These are only a few examples of the exploration opportunities in Yuma, Arizona. If you’d like to get up close and personal to a storied past, there’s plenty more to see.
You might also like Driving Across the Border to Mexico.  We had talked about getting a grille guard for our truck since embracing our RV lifestyle. After all, if anything were to happen to Gulliver, we might be unable to relocate our house on wheels. Despite that reality, other priorities on our wish list kept pushing a grille guard lower on the lineup. With a drive to Alaska in our sights, we decided the time had come to invest in protecting our hardworking truck from potential damage as a result of a collision with an animal or another vehicle. Evaluating Grille Guard Options Grille guards come in lots of types and price points and have many names — bull bars, push bars, brush guards, bumper guards. Most are made of steel. Some consist of a combination of sturdy metals, such as polycarbonate, aluminum alloys, and/or steel. Some are bolt-on additions whereas installing others is a lot more involved. We started noticing these parts on other trucks and assessing what would work best for our needs. A bolt-on one would fit our budget and provide some protection, but we wanted to be able to use our parking sensors — especially since the addition would extend the length of our 23-foot truck. Fitting it into a parking spot requires all the help we can get. The bolt-on grille guards we found, although supposedly easy to install, didn’t extend the parking sensors to the additional length of the new equipment. So, our search for the right grille guard continued. While camping at South Llano River State Park in Junction, Texas, a beefy grille guard caught our attention. Upon closer examination, we noticed diamond plate material attached to the grille guard replaced the entire front bumper. The owner saw us admiring the piece and came to talk to us. We explained the situation and our concerns about the parking sensors. He informed us the sensors had been extended for his equipment and showed us the proof. We were sold on a Ranch Hand front bumper rather than a basic grille guard, a cost difference of upward of $700. We knew that, despite the additional cost, this solution would give us the most peace of mind. So, we saved the money and purchased a Ranch Hand Legend Front Bumper. Replacing the Front Bumper  Installing the new equipment meant first removing the original bumper. We strapped the factory bumper to an engine lift to hold it in place as it detached from the truck and started loosening nuts and bolts. Having disconnected the factory bumper from the truck, I busied myself with installing grommets for the parking sensors into the new one, along with our fog lights.  Because of the way the original bumper had been installed, we couldn’t dislodge the bolts holding its brackets in place. The radiators prevented enough wiggle room to back the bolts out of their holes. Without removing those brackets, we couldn’t attach the new bumper. The factory bolts had to be cut off. There was no other way around it. Our Commemorative Air Force friend, Chris R., came to our aid. He used a Sawzall to slice through the bolts. The loud grinding noise assaulted our ears, and the process proved more arduous and time-consuming than we had hoped. But the Sawzall got the job done.  Able to carry the factory bumper on my own, I loaded it into the bed of the truck. We strapped the new, 300-pound bumper to the engine lift, thankful we had the right tool for the project. Although we had invested about five hours into the face-lift, we had gotten a late start. Because of that, we couldn’t complete the job in one day and had to leave Gulliver overnight. He looked sad. We left the new bumper on the engine lift and caught a ride home.  Finishing the Procedure The next morning, we returned to complete the job. We appreciated the help of friends Bob T. and Tim T., who graciously volunteered to help both days. It took the four of us to guide the new bumper into position and secure it to the truck.  Gulliver looks beefier and is about a foot longer. He drives differently too. We can feel the weight in the front while traveling down the road. For the importance he provides to us and our lifestyle, we’re glad we took the plunge and upgraded his grille. And we were able to sell the factory bumper the same day we brought it home. Onward to more adventures. You might also like Gulliver Gets a Transplant.   We thought we had fixed our water leak and made our rig watertight. After a very rainy day, I ascended the ladder on the back of Tagalong to sweep any remaining liquid off our slideout toppers. While on the roof, I decided to check the front section where we had repaired our leak. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Our self-leveling caulk, which had looked fine when we left it following our repair job, had holes in it, leaving pathways for rain to get through. Trapped moisture under the new caulk must have tried to escape, causing the holes.  Climbing down, I opened the front compartment, ran my hand across the foil bubble wrap ceiling, and was astounded at how much water came out. Yep, we still had a problem. Stopping the Drips A rainfree weather forecast meant we had time to let the roof and compartment dry out before readdressing our repair job/roof leak. Fearful we’d have to remove the foam insulation we had installed, we once again peeled back the bubble wrap ceiling. Not finding an obvious source of water, I investigated further. And then I discovered it. Rainwater had nestled into the fiberglass insulation up under our bedroom closet, in a difficult-to-reach spot from the front compartment. We decided to leave the compartment open to help it air out. Daily, I sopped up what I could from the insulation as the fluid tried to escape our rig.  After a few days, we climbed onto the roof and filled in the holes at the Eternabond/caulk seam. The next day, I ascended the ladder to confirm the fix worked. Thankfully, it did. That just left the slowly moving water trying to work its way out. After many days and nights of squeezing moisture out of the insulation and leaving the front compartment open, the flow finally stopped. From Leaks to Clogs Water problems generally come in two forms: clogs and leaks. After the roof leak, our Thetford RV toilet stopped opening to flush. Since this happened while we were at a mobile home/RV park that houses some residents year-round, we were able to use the clubhouse restrooms in the interim. Although stuck (pun intended), we weren’t completely stuck. Bob researched solutions and ordered a new ball valve for the toilet. Replacing the part meant uninstalling the commode from the trailer and detaching the ceramic bowl from the plastic base. You can imagine the messy job that was. With the new part in place, we reinstalled the Thetford john, thrilled not to have to go to the clubhouse restrooms anymore … or so we thought. We quickly learned we had a faulty ball seal that prevented the toilet bowl from holding water. Guess you could say we had another leak. We went from one extreme to another — both resulting in not being able to flush the toilet properly. Attempting a Reinstallation We decided to replace the whole unit, something we probably should have done from the start. Bob researched our options and ordered a Dometic. Meanwhile, back to the clubhouse we went. When the toilet arrived, we swapped the original for the new. The process didn’t go quite as smoothly as we had hoped or wanted. With the old latrine out of the way, we put the new one in place. But somewhere along the line, we lost one of the washers needed to complete the job. After 15 minutes of searching, Bob realized the washer could have fit through a small gap underneath our shower. He tried numerous times to fish it out, to no avail. On to Plan B. We dug through our tools in the truck for some washers that would work and found brass, a much better option for a wet environment than the factory-provided steel washers.  With the installation complete, we delighted in the new throne’s residential feel, thanks to a ceramic bowl and painted wooden seat and lid, and its superior rinsing mechanism that surrounded the bowl instead of just spraying from the back, like the old commode. Happy with a job well done, we left the trailer to deposit the old unit in a dumpster.  Upon our return, I opened the toilet lid to discover a dry bowl. Not again! Yep, we still had the same problem: Our toilet wouldn’t hold water. More research provided tips on how to fix the ball seal. Bob tried the recommended steps, but the problem persisted. Clandestine Operation The potential to have to return the new toilet meant we had to fetch the old one from the trash. Dumpster diving had served us well early in our marriage. Then, we got some decent furniture from our escapades. It didn’t hold the same appeal in this situation. We drove our noisy diesel truck through the mobile home/RV park at 10:30 p.m. to the nearest dumpster, in close proximity to another RV. We had put the old toilet in the box the new one had come in. Getting it out of the dumpster proved easy enough, and no one appeared to see us or complain. Our stealthy mission done, we returned home and crashed for the night.  First thing in the morning, I heard Bob on the phone with Dometic customer service to try to resolve our problem. They referred us to the warranty department, which referred us to Amazon, where we had purchased the toilet.
It looked like we’d need to ship the unit back, just as we thought. We had bought through a third party on Amazon, and that third party didn’t want to cover shipping for us to return the toilet. We were facing upward of $30 in shipping costs. Bob once again put his excellent research skills to use and looked into alternative options. Another possible solution involved replacing the seal between the toilet’s plastic base and ceramic bowl. We ordered that piece for only $16 and, sure enough, it did the trick — and didn’t require detaching the unit to complete the job. We’re grateful our water woes are behind us, at least for now. And we don’t have to make any more trips to the clubhouse unless we want to do laundry or linger in the hot tub. You might also like How a Flat Tire Helped Us Work Together.  We’ve been to Mexico many times, walking across the border south of San Diego and El Paso. We’ve visited cruise port towns of Cabo San Lucas, Ensenada, Mazatlan, Puerto Vallarta, La Paz, and Progreso. But we’d never made the trek by car. Not willing to take everything we own into a third-world country and wanting to try out our new Fofana truck tent* and AirBedz inflatable mattress,* we packed Gulliver for a sans-Tagalong week of camping in Rocky Point, Mexico — or Puerto Penasco, as it’s known to locals. It’s been a long time since we tented. It involves a bit of work but offers close proximity to beautiful scenery, such as the Sea of Cortez from a sandy beach. Embracing the Adventure Gulliver led us on a four-hour journey across terrain we hadn’t seen before. Because Rocky Point is part of Sonora, Mexico, and considered part of the Border Zone, no permit is required to travel there. You do, however, need Mexican auto insurance, which you can purchase right before crossing the border. We opted to buy it ahead of time online. The route from Phoenix to Rocky Point meanders through Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, offering beautiful views of cactus set against mountains. Spanning more than 330,000 acres of the Sonoran Desert, the national park is the only place in America where organ pipe cactus and senita (another type of cactus) grow wild.  The drive took us through Ajo, population 2,600, a once thriving copper mining town. We also drove through the tiny community of Why, population 65. Originally named Y after its forked intersection that gives travelers the option of going south to Mexico or east to Tucson, the town became Why when state law required all city names to have a minimum of three letters. Today it features a convenience store titled Why Not? As we approached the border town of Lukeville, we started seeing signs about crossing into Mexico. “Weapons and Ammunition into Mexico is illegal” read a prominent one. We waited in a short line of vehicles to drive through a tentlike tunnel before reaching another country. The Mexico border patrol agent waved us through without a word, and we were on our way. Driving in Mexico Getting to the beach involved navigating the Mexican town of Sonoyta for about 10 minutes before reaching the main drag connecting America to Rocky Point. The 65-mile-long road is labeled a hassle-free zone. We didn’t know what that meant. It being our first time driving in Mexico, we did our best to obey the traffic signs, watching our speed in kilometers. Other Americans whizzed past us, and we quickly learned hassle-free means the Mexican police don’t patrol that road. We did, however, see a service truck cruising it to help any drivers who broke down. Entering Rocky Point, we exited the main road and followed Google’s guidance to our selected beach campground, Concha Del Mar, offering dry camping (no hookups) for $15 US per night. Most places of business in Rocky Point accept U.S. dollars and list prices in both U.S. and Mexican currency. Not wanting to have change in pesos, we took plenty of U.S. cash with us. Fishy sea air greeted us as we rolled down our windows. The campground attendant took our cash for four nights and told us to park in the second row from the water. We found a decent spot among the 50 or so RVs and set up our tent and mattress in 10 to 15 minutes.  Camping on the Beach The mattress proved comfortable. We slept well, thanks to the lulling of the crashing waves. The only negative was our bladders waking us. That meant putting on our shoes and leaving the warmth of the tent to walk 75 yards to the bath house. But it also provided stargazing opportunities we would have otherwise missed. Having purchased a Firemaple camping stove* for the trip, we took some dehydrated meals such as pho and oatmeal cups with us. We just had to heat water. The stove boiled water within 2 minutes and made for quick, easy breakfasts. We also used it to make our morning coffee.  When the wind prevented us from sitting outside, we hung out in the cab of the truck, listening to music, reading, and playing games. We set up our solar suitcase to restore power to the truck after using it to charge our phones. Although we both took laptops with us, we didn’t open them, except one night to watch a movie. Experiencing Mexican Cuisine Leaving our truck and tent setup among our camping neighbors, we walked the beach every day and traveled by foot anywhere we wanted to explore. The closest restaurant, connected to a hotel on the beach, featured amazing views of the water and sunsets. We dined there a few times, as well as at a few other restaurants, reveling in the authentic Mexican food.  We happened upon what quickly became our favorite dish of the trip when visiting the New Mexican Restaurant. Some fellow Americans in the establishment recommended we order the New Mexican Molcajete. We obliged. A short time later, we received a stone bowl filled with a green chili cream sauce and overflowing with chicken, beef, shrimp, and chorizo. Accompanied by fresh corn tortillas, the dish hit the spot, and we made sure we had it again before leaving the area.  One day, we ventured into town in search of fresh seafood. After lingering over an amazing lunch of fish tacos and ceviche (including octopus), we picked up some Rocky Point shrimp and scallops. The shrimp made its way into our lunch the next day. Returning to America We left Rocky Point on a beautiful, sunny Friday morning to return to America, passing many vehicles going the opposite direction. We had to wait in line for 20 to 30 minutes to cross the border. Other than locals approaching us to buy their wares or clean our windshield for a donation, it was uneventful. A border patrol agent glanced at our passports and gave us entrance to the U.S. We stopped in Ajo for a taco lunch to round out our Mexican experience and took a different route home, surprised to be greeted by cold and clouds threatening rain. We hadn’t realized how busy we’d been until we stopped moving. The downtime away offered much rest and relaxation. We met wonderful people, enjoyed fresh seafood and authentic Mexican cuisine, and basked in the beauty of our surroundings, thankful for a time of refreshing and reconnecting. You might also like Experiencing the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta. * As Amazon affiliates, we earn from qualifying purchases.  |
AuthorThis is the travel blog of full-time RVers Bob and Lana Gates and our truck, Gulliver, and fifth wheel, Tagalong. Categories
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