Living in an RV full time looks spectacular on YouTube, where RVers showcase magnificent travels, amazing destinations, and exciting adventures. But is RV life really all that glamorous? After four years on the road, we can tell you it definitely is not. Sure, parts of the lifestyle live up to that reputation, but many others leave much to be desired. Here are some of the negative aspects of full-time RV living: Travel-Day Squabbles Typically, we enjoy a week or two in a single location, exploring what the area has to offer and keeping busy while there. When we get into the truck on travel days, we have dedicated time with each other, interrupted only by fuel and rest stops or rare sightings along the way. It seems these occasions often become times to discuss issues between us, since neither of us can walk away. This can make for unpleasant travel that may carry into arriving and setting up at our destination. Sometimes, we forget we’re on the same team and in a partnership. That’s why you can find T-shirts and mugs that say, “I’m sorry for what I said while backing up the trailer.” Long Driving Days Reaching a destination by a certain date — for a wedding or a cruise, for example — may require multiple days of driving. This can be exhausting. One day, we drove 11 hours trying to get somewhere due to a family member’s medical emergency. Similarly, we spent eight days driving the Alaska Highway each way. Even though we traveled only three to four hours on most of those days, we kept all but our dining room slideout closed at any overnight stop. That kept us from taking up too much space at, say, a rest area while still allowing passage to our kitchen and refrigerator. Not being able to “be home” day after day wore on us. To help break up the trip, we spent two nights at the Liard River Hot Springs Campground in British Columbia both ways. This enabled us to open all four of our slideouts and truly feel at home. On the way back to the Lower 48, we also stopped at a museum in the Yukon to make the journey more enjoyable. Breakage Towing all of our belongings across the country equates to an earthquake in our “house” every time we relocate. Some roads are definitely better than others. The constant vibration can knock things loose. Big bumps or potholes can bounce hanging clothes off their closet rack. Pipes leak, sealants let go, and screws come loose. It seems that almost every time we move, we find something else that needs our attention. It may be a tire, a window, the truck bed cover, or any number of other things. That’s why we make a point to give the vehicle a thorough walkaround before travel and when we stop at a rest area or fuel station. We’ve learned to roll with the punches and take these issues in stride. They’re just part of RV life, but they’re not necessarily fun.
Logistics Unless you have a small rig such as a camper van or a truck camper, logistics tend to be a big part of full-time RV living. We have to do a lot of research before venturing anywhere to make sure our big rig can fit. This can take a lot of time. Checking our desired destinations is more crucial in the East, where clearance can be more challenging, than it is in the West. We had absolutely no clearance issues in Alaska. There, 15 feet, 10 inches is considered low clearance, compared to anything below 13 feet, 6 inches in the rest of the country. Uncertainty Because we move so often, it’s hard to keep track of where we are and where we’ve been. We both experienced that same situation when we toured with the Continental Singers and Orchestra, which is how we met. For three months, we had a concert in a different city every night. Fast-forward 36 years, and we’re having deja vu moments. Many mornings, we wake up unsure of our location. What state are we in? Where were we yesterday? Where were we when that happened? Despite these challenges, we enjoy RV life and the freedom it gives us. We also relish visiting family and friends across the country much more often than we’d see them otherwise. Life is good. RV life is great. You might also like More Answers to Your RV Lifestyle Questions.
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Kapow. Kapow. The sound of gunshots jolted me from my work. With Bob still snoozing, I knew the TV wasn’t on. Darting from window to window, I peered out in search of the source of the noise but saw nothing conclusive. When you live in an RV and are parked in unfamiliar territory, gunfire can be quite sobering. We were camped completely on our own close to a lake about a third of a mile from the main highway near Tok, Alaska. Noise travels fast in the vastness of Alaska. Just because I had heard what sounded like nearby gunshots didn’t mean the shooter was close by. Research confirmed bull moose hunting season open in the Tok area. I hope the hunter got his or her moose. We didn’t hear any more gunshots after that. The incident was only one of many unusual happenings we encountered during our fourth year of RV travel. Here are some others: Wacky Waterfill Station We like to take advantage of boondocking and moochdocking opportunities whenever possible. Oftentimes, doing so means being strategic about filling our 75-gallon freshwater tank. We’re able to make the water last for a while, but there always comes a time when we need to refill our supply. Many dump stations offer potable water that can be used for this purpose. After leaving our campsite in Valdez, Alaska, we headed into town to empty our black and gray wastewater tanks. We opted not to get freshwater there because we had to climb through a mountain pass on our way back to the main highway and didn’t want to tow the extra weight. Beyond the pass en route to my cousin’s remote cabin and boondocking thereafter, we needed to fill our freshwater tank. We learned about a place near Glennallen where the locals got drinking water after a flood contaminated their regular source. It turned out to be quite an unusual fillup. The first “spigot” we came to was an open pipe with no hose fitting nor the capacity to attach a hose. Using that “faucet” required turning a wheel nine times to get the water to come out. Since we couldn’t figure out a way to connect a hose between that fixture and our trailer, we walked to the other side of the booth building to check for another option. Sure enough, we found a normal-size hose — but again with no capacity to attach another hose to it. Getting water into our rig requires a screw-tight connection. Bob remembered he had picked up a Water Bandit hose fitting (paid link) for just such an occasion. After locating it, he fitted the adapter to the hose. We deposited four quarters for 3 minutes of filling, and Bob moved the valve to make the water flow while attempting to hold the hoses together. Cold water spurted everywhere, dousing the bottom of my jeans. Good thing I was wearing boots. Bob backed off the water pressure, adjusted his grip, and succeeded at keeping the hoses connected. Three minutes of water filled our tank about 10%. We had started with about that much, so that brought us to 20%. We inserted another four quarters for 3 additional minutes with the same results. Clearly, we would need to do this about seven more times. The water running through the hoses left Bob’s hands frigid, to the point that he didn’t think he’d be able to endure the process for much longer. I grabbed a mechanic’s glove from our trailer basement and a leather work glove from the truck. (Neither had a match.) Donning those, Bob changed his position on the hoses to use different muscles. My job was to deposit quarters and keep mosquitos off of Bob. We continued the painstaking cycle until our tank was completely full — about 30 minutes and $10 later. By then, we had gained a greater appreciation for traditional water fills with a regular hose bibb, something we had previously taken for granted. Plentiful Pasta Making Not all unusual experiences are, or have to be, challenging. While visiting family in Oregon, we had a rare opportunity to make pasta from scratch, something we couldn’t pass up, as neither of us had ever done it before. With all five of our kids in town for a family reunion, we needed a lot of pasta, so Bob’s brother Rick put us to work. We felt like we were on a TV cooking channel, breaking eggs into a well of flour on a countertop and mixing it with a fork. After getting the dough to the desired consistency, we shifted to putting it through a pasta maker to press it thin enough to cut into spaghetti noodles. This involved many rounds of feeding the dough through the machine and adding flour in between, a backbreaking process. We made more than enough spaghetti for everyone to eat their fill and combined it with marinara sauce Bob had made earlier following Alton Brown’s recipe. Since then, we picked up an all-in-one pasta maker that mixes ingredients into dough and pushes out pasta as spaghetti or penne noodles. Making pasta is no longer novel, or backbreaking.
In addition to those incidents, we had plenty of other unusual encounters in our fourth year on the road, including getting snowed on, visiting an ice house, seeing the midnight sun, dealing with rodents, camping in fall foliage, and tracking dinosaurs. They’re all part of our amazing, adventurous RV life. You might also like Our Most Unusual Experiences in Year 3 on the Road. * As Amazon Associates, we earn from qualifying purchases. From the vantage point of a couch in front of a TV, full-time RV living can look pretty alluring: driving open roads, camping next to rivers and lakes, going where you want when you want, living a life of luxury. Much goes on behind the scenes to make all that happen, though. Because we relocate our fifth wheel every week or two, we always have plans in motion and on our minds. We don’t like to book RV stops far in advance so that we have freedom to change our route or destination on a whim. But we do like to have an idea of the direction we’re heading. For that reason, we’re continually working on future stays — not an easy feat for two middle children who aren’t great at making decisions. This involves a number of factors. Researching Destination Areas Adequate preparation requires a lot of research. We use our Campendium app to find big-rig-friendly boondocking options, campgrounds, and fees. If we don’t find something we like in a certain location, we increase the search radius to an hour or so outside of that destination area. We also check our Harvest Hosts app to identify if any big-rig-friendly hosts are in that vicinity. We pay an annual fee to be part of Boondockers Welcome, which was acquired by Harvest Hosts. This offers us free stays of up to five nights, depending on the host’s preference. Some hosts offer electric hookups, for a fee. This can come in handy when the weather’s warm and we want to run our air conditioners. Additionally, we use Google Maps to look at the satellite view of any place we’re considering for a better picture of the feasibility of getting our rig into and out of it. And Google Earth allows us to measure distance to determine if our rig will truly fit. Planning Routes Once we’ve identified a place we’d like to stay, we have to figure out the best way to get there. Google Maps may seem like the natural go-to, but it doesn’t take into account the height or length of our rig. Although the app’s suggested routes tend to be OK for us in the West, we can’t rely on them in the East, where low clearance and weight restrictions can be issues. We use our CoPilot navigation app to steer us in the right direction. Originally a trucker app, CoPilot allows us to enter the dimensions of our rig and then navigates us accordingly, avoiding U-turns and roads with weight and height restrictions. Identifying Fuel Stops Finding our weekly destinations and routes is only part of the necessary research of RV life. We also have to locate places along the way where we can get fuel. Since upgrading the capacity of our fuel tank, we can go farther before needing to stop, which gives us more options to find the best diesel price using our Open Roads app. Open Roads is a fleet fuel program that gets us discounts at TA, Petro, and Love’s truck stops across the country. After checking Gulliver’s fuel level to determine how far we can go before we need more diesel, we look at Google Maps to identify cities with truck stops. Equipped with that information, we go back to our Open Roads app and enter the city name to populate fuel stations there, along with their prices. The app shows us the cost of fuel with our discount applied, not the publicly displayed price. Finding Dump Stations If we’re doing any sort of boondocking or moochdocking, we also need to identify RV dump stations nearby where we can empty our waste water tanks. Campendium can help with that, as can a website called rvdumpsites.net. Finding dump stations is only half the battle. More importantly, we have to determine if our rig can get into and out of the facility. We’ve encountered plenty that weren’t compatible with the size of our 42-foot-long rig — even in established campgrounds.
To figure out if we’ll be able to get Tagalong in and out of a dump station, we once again consult the Google Maps satellite view and street view, if available, for accessibility and clearance issues. Checking the Weather Another big part of RV logistics is keeping tabs on the weather, as we don’t like to drive in rain or other inclement conditions. Working our way north for our Alaska adventure, for example, we had to wait for the weather to warm up before we could move on. This left us in the desert outside of Las Vegas for two weeks, and we still got snowed on in Twin Falls, Idaho. As you can imagine, all of this research takes considerable time. It’s a not-so-pleasant aspect of full-time RV living, which is not for the faint of heart. Yet, it’s a necessary part. Thankfully, Bob is an excellent researcher and does most of this planning for us. You might also like Confessions of a Full-Time RVer. Whether you live full time in an RV or in sticks and bricks, issues have a way of popping up when you least expect them. We’ve certainly had our share in both circumstances. Things have gone incredibly wrong for some RVers, forcing them to hang up their travel hats and settle down. We’ve been very fortunate in our RV life. Although we’ve had plenty of challenges, we haven’t encountered anything we couldn’t get through — even though some things took many months to resolve. Some of the simpler incidents in our fourth year of RV living included separating trailer skirting and losing a hubcap off the truck. An Amazon order remedied the hubcap issue, and some screws and bolts fixed the skirting problem. We also had a loose window in the trailer that would occasionally open on its own as a result of travel over bumpy roads. Closing it required powering open the dining room slideout part way. The last time that happened, while driving through Canada, I went to close the window and discovered a loose screw in the control mechanism. Since tightening the screw, we haven’t had any issues with the window. Who knew it was such a simple fix all these years! Here are some more significant excerpts of things gone wrong in RV life from the past year: Mysterious Drip Right before setting out on the Alaska Highway, we noticed a puddle under our kitchen slideout — the last thing we wanted to see before hitting a notoriously rough road, especially after all the water problems we had already dealt with. Upon examination, Bob quickly found the culprit: a plastic, instead of brass, tee joint connecting the pipe to our ice maker. Yes, you read that right. Our rig came equipped with an ice maker. We used it early on but quickly realized its ineffectiveness for boondocking, with no water connections. So, we stopped using it and resorted to a couple of silicone ice trays, which also save precious freezer space. Bob bandaged the pipes and made a point to keep an eye on them until he could replace the tee with something more effective, which he did when we were in North Pole, Alaska. Crunched Levelers For our first overnight stop on the Alaska Highway, we pulled into a downward-sloped rest area. We had learned from other leveling challenges that for best operation, our refrigerator couldn’t be at a pitch more than 3 degrees. Knowing that and not wanting to sleep so that we rolled off the bed, we attempted to raise the rear of the truck to make the front of Tagalong more level. This involved driving up on some stacked plastic leveling blocks, which we use for the trailer all the time. With the dually wheels on each side of the truck and the weight of the trailer on top of them, the plastic crunched and broke into pieces as soon as Bob drove onto it. So much for that idea. We ended up disconnecting the trailer from the truck for that stop so that we could get the trailer even from front to back and enjoy our evening there. Trailer Lockout Upon arrival at an overnight stop, I attempted to go inside the trailer to open the dining room slideout. But I couldn’t get in. Although the main door opened, the screen door attached to it wouldn’t budge. That meant we couldn’t lower our stairs, which fold up inside the door, to get into the rig. Bob grabbed his cordless drill and removed hinges from the screen door to allow us in. That worked temporarily but didn’t correct the underlying issue. After much scrutiny, we realized that one of the brackets on the stairs was bent, catching on the screen. Bob successfully straightened out the bracket and filed it down, fixing the problem. Missing Smoke Detector After arriving at a location and setting up camp for the week, I looked up and noticed two screws hanging from the ceiling above our kitchen island. As I stared at them, I racked my brain trying to identify what used to cover the screws. Then it dawned on me. I asked Bob if he had moved the smoke detector. He said no. A search high and low for the device didn't uncover it. I suddenly remembered I had been having difficulty opening the dining room slideout. I pulled it in a few inches and, sure enough, the smoke detector sat atop it. Bumpy road conditions must have rattled it loose from its ceiling perch. No Hot Water Our rig has two ways to heat water: with propane and with electricity. Upon arrival at Fool Hollow Lake Campground in Show Low, Arizona, Bob noticed the lack of hot water coming out of the tap, despite the electric water heater being on. He tried to heat the water with propane, but that didn’t work. We had encountered a similar issue another time, so after some troubleshooting, he pinpointed the problem: a faulty thermal cutoff. It’s a safety device that prevents melting if the water gets too hot. He happened to have a spare, and replacing it produced warm water out of our faucet. Forgotten Purse It’s not uncommon to accidentally leave possessions at places and have to return to fetch them. When that act of fetching involves driving a tall, heavy fifth wheel through traffic in Portland, Oregon, it’s downright nerve-racking. That’s where we found ourselves after I realized I had left my purse at McDonald’s north of Portland, about a half hour away. With white knuckles, Bob graciously drove back through the city — and then through it a third time after retrieving the purse to get to our destination. I try to double-check that I have my purse with me now before we hit the road from anywhere. You might also like: Ah, boondocking — wide-open spaces, beautiful views, quiet serenity, and economical cost. Since our rig is prepped with solar panels, generators, and large freshwater and wastewater tanks, we like to take advantage of dry camping when we can. An ultimate destination of Alaska in 2023 kept us in the West, providing abundant off-grid camping opportunities. Because of that, we did a lot more boondocking in our fourth year of RV travel than we did in the first three years combined. As a result, we feel much more experienced at it than we did when we got busted for camping where it wasn’t allowed. We’ve learned a lot since then about the importance of conserving all the water and electricity we can. That means reheating coffee and leftovers on the stove rather than in the microwave, among other things. Here are our favorite boondocking hacks that make living off the grid easy and enjoyable: 1. Plastic Grocery Bags One of the best practices of our boondocking success is using plastic grocery bags instead of tall kitchen trash bags to collect our waste. We learned this trick early on from full-time RVers Tom and Molly and continue to use it to this day. Because we don’t have a grocery-bag-size trash bin in our kitchen, we still line our normal-size waste can with a tall kitchen trash bag and hang the smaller grocery bag inside the larger bag, attaching it to two corners. This prevents messes from contents that don’t quite make it into the smaller bag. Plus, we can store about three full grocery bags in the tall kitchen bag. Then when we make a trip into town, we take the bags with us and deposit them in multiple bins for easy disposal. 2. Fat Trapper Another thing that helps with our trash situation is a gadget called the Fat Trapper (paid link). It’s a sealable plastic container that comes with heavy-duty bags for collecting grease and fat from cooking. We don’t want to put used oil and grease down our pipes because of odors and possible clogging — not to mention the water that would be required to wash it down. Nor do we want to put that in our trash bag as it could make a mess and sit there for a while, reeking, until we venture into town. 3. French-Press Coffee To avoid having to run our generators to make coffee every morning, we invested in a 50-ounce stainless steel French press (paid link). French presses work better with coarse-ground coffee than they do with what you can typically buy already bagged. For that reason, we purchased coffee beans and a manual coffee grinder (paid link) when we first moved into our fifth wheel. After a week or so, we traded elbow grease for a power drill to grind the coffee. That worked great. But then we got even smarter. We decided to buy whole beans and use an in-store grinder at the supermarket, allowing us to select the coarseness of the grind. Finding grocery stores that offered that feature during the pandemic became quite challenging, so we learned to stock up on bags of self-ground coffee before hitting the road for our annual trek. 4. Once-a-Day Dishwashing Because our freshwater supply and gray water tank capacity are limited when living off the grid, we let our dishes pile up in the sink and wash them only once a day. On rare occasions, we use paper dishes and plasticware, but those create more trash that we have to store until making a trip into town. If we’re camped at a place where campfires are allowed and firewood is abundant, we can burn our paper dishes. In reality, however, we don’t have campfires all that often. Another thing that can help with dishes is spraying dirty ones with a water/vinegar mixture from a spray bottle before leaving them in the sink. This can make the eventual cleaning process easier. Along those same lines, we often wipe food remnants from our plates and bowls using a napkin or paper towel before leaving them in the sink. 5. Prewashed and Sliced Produce In addition to washing dishes only once a day to cut down on water use, we try to buy pre-washed and pre-sliced produce when stocking up for a boondocking adventure. This can save quite a bit of water that we would have used to wash mushrooms, for example. That may not sound like a big savings, but cleaning produce uses more water than you might think. Tasks we took for granted in our sticks-and-bricks home aren’t always optional when boondocking. 6. Cast-Iron Skillet One of our best buys that we use on a daily basis is a 10-inch cast-iron skillet (paid link). After seasoning it well, it cooks great food evenly, helps us maintain healthy iron levels, and is easy to clean — saving water. Most uses require only wiping the pan with a paper towel and adding a little more oil to it. 7. Window Shades for Temp Control Our RV came equipped with two shades on each window: a privacy screen and a black-out shade. The latter came in quite handy in Alaska’s land of the midnight sun. We use both shades to keep the interior of our rig temperate. Closing the screens on cold nights helps prevent warmth from escaping. And closing them on warm days helps keep the inside temperature tolerable.
You might also like 12 Best RV-Related Purchases. * As Amazon Associates, we earn from qualifying purchases. Each year of full-time RV living leaves us feeling more comfortable and experienced in our lifestyle. Despite that, we continue to encounter challenges and even scares along the way. Our fourth year of RV travel was no different. Here’s a countdown of our scariest experiences in our fourth year on the road: 6. Police Visit While camped in the parking lot of the Museum of Mountain Flying in Missoula, Montana, with permission, a loud rap at our door made us stand at attention. Glancing out the window, we saw a white truck marked POLICE and an armed, uniformed officer standing at the base of our stairs. Bob went out to greet the man. They chatted for a bit as Bob explained our connection to the museum, which we had visited a couple of years earlier while on tour with the Commemorative Air Force. Satisfied with the discussion, the officer wished us well, climbed into his truck, and drove away. 5. Honked at While Camping We had just gotten set up at a beautiful dispersed campground in McCammon, Idaho, with a panoramic view of red maple leaves. We saw no other soul at our three-site campground, 50 feet or so from the main camping area. Before long, a vehicle came to a stop next to our rig and emitted the annoying beep of a horn. I looked out the window and saw a car with a driver accompanied by a dog in the passenger seat. We had no clue who the person was and no inclination to exit our trailer to find out. We figured if they really wanted to talk to us, they could knock on our door. Meanwhile, Bob looked up info about the campground and learned it had 10 RV sites and five tent sites. Were we in a tent site? The car had no signs of being an official vehicle and eventually moved on. A short time later, a truck marked RANGER drove through and didn’t bother stopping, leaving us relieved. We later discovered after a walk through the campground that we were definitely in one of the RV sites, as we found the five clearly identifiable tent sites. Maybe the driver thought we were someone else. 4. Parking Lot Knock On our way to Dawson Creek, British Columbia, to reach the start of the Alaska Highway, we overnighted in a Calgary, Alberta, mall. We had found the option online. Staying at the mall only required signing in at guest services inside the complex, where we received a dated paper to put on our truck dash. After a delicious meal at one of the mall’s many restaurants, we returned to our trailer and settled in for the night. At about 9:30 p.m., we heard three pounds of a fist on the side of our trailer. I thought someone had knocked on our front door, but that was not the case. Some kids walking by decided to try to scare us. It worked on me. 3. 4 a.m. Truck Alarm On our return trip to the Lower 48 after a wonderful summer in Alaska, we stopped at a rest area in the middle of nowhere about an hour north of Watson Lake, Yukon, in Canada. We had stayed at the same place on the way to Alaska and liked it there. After an unsuccessful attempt to spot the northern lights for the second time, we dozed off to sleep. At 4 a.m., the beeping of a car alarm woke us from our slumber. It turned out to be Gulliver’s alarm, something that had never happened before. We quieted the disturbing noise and went outside to investigate, finding no signs of foul play or anyone around, for that matter. The next morning, when we got into Gulliver for the next leg of our journey, the culprit became evident: The monitor for our rear trailer camera had fallen from the windshield in the cold of the night. 2. Tsunami Warning We arrived in Homer, Alaska, on a foggy, rainy afternoon. When I looked at my phone to check the weather, I saw a tsunami warning. Talk about a wake-up call. I quickly took a screenshot. But later when I looked, the warning had disappeared. We had been through four tornado warnings since becoming full-time RVers, so we knew to take these things seriously. No longer finding the tsunami warning readily available, I did some quick research and discovered it had been issued after a 7.2-magnitude earthquake off the Alaska peninsula. The tsunami warning had been canceled five minutes after issuance, so we were in no danger. 1. Stuck in Museum Parking Lot Our scariest encounter in our fourth year of RV travel happened the day after the Calgary mall incident. We had made arrangements to park overnight at the Alberta Aviation Museum in Edmonton, Alberta, which houses a B-25 WWII bomber similar to the one we work on with the Commemorative Air Force. We pulled down the road leading to the museum, finding it lined with cars on both sides. The museum lot offered nowhere to park our big rig, so I pulled into the fire lane, facing a fence, while Bob went inside to talk to the staff. As it turned out, an organization had leased part of the building to host a reptile show that weekend, drawing quite a crowd. The museum supervisor came out to assess the situation and, finding illegally parked cars, essentially told us there was no safe way for us to work our way out of the parking lot. Yet, the executive director, who had approved our stay, wanted us to leave and come back later.
I suggested maybe Bob could back into a parking lane so that we could pull forward to get out, despite people moving about in every direction. A friendly gentleman helped direct foot and vehicle traffic while Bob’s years of trailer-backing experience led to a masterful job of getting us out of a sticky situation. People inconvenienced by the maneuver proved understanding and supportive, which we appreciated. We returned later to a virtually empty parking lot and spent an uneventful night there. You might also like Scariest RV Moments of 2021. In each of our first three years of full-time RV travel, we towed Tagalong less than 8,000 miles. A more adventurous trip to Alaska in our fourth year on the road scored Tagalong 9,302 miles. Gulliver earned additional mileage from our explorations while disconnected from the trailer, including an ambitious 1,015-mile round-trip journey to the Arctic Ocean. We kept our travel days relatively short, averaging an enjoyable 202 miles per stint, from expansive desert to amazing red rocks to snow-capped mountains to lake and river views. Our longest trek, not counting the Arctic Ocean adventure, spanned 500 miles, from Valley of Fire in Overton, Nevada, to Twin Falls, Idaho. Our record 46 stops (due to multiple single-night stays both ways on the Alaska Highway) took us through four states we were able to add to our RV map — Washington, Idaho, Montana, and Alaska — plus three Canadian provinces: British Columbia, Alberta, and Yukon. We stayed at only eight campgrounds with some form of hookups and at another four with no hookups. We counted those that lacked energy connections among our 14 boondocking sites. We also overnighted in 14 parking lots and moochdocked at seven locations. Here are our favorite stops in our fourth year of RV travel: Favorite Campground The eight campgrounds we visited offered convenience. I remember pulling into the Sourdough Campground and Cafe in Tok, Alaska, and taking advantage of the electricity to vacuum the inside of the trailer after the long haul on the Alaska Highway. We did the same thing upon arrival at Fool Hollow Lake Campground in Show Low, Arizona, after a couple of weeks of boondocking. Many people frequent campgrounds to get away from those conveniences. We go there to enjoy them. Our two favorite campgrounds for the year were both in Canada. The Kimberley Riverside Campground in British Columbia, as its name implies, sits near a roaring river. We enjoyed spying on deer from our windows and walking along the water to explore our surroundings. More than Kimberley, we liked Brewers Campground, situated close to a beach in Lacombe County, Alberta, despite the unwanted RV guest that came with it. We visited this location in the fall and relished the changing foliage colors and crunching leaves under our feet. Because we were there after the busy season, we found the place incredibly serene. Favorite Boondocking Stay Our boondocking stays for the year ran the gamut, from desert dwelling outside Las Vegas to hanging out in a tree-shrouded dry campground next to some natural hot springs to backing up our trailer to overlook Cook Inlet and Port Valdez in Alaska to camping against a backdrop of red maple trees. It’s nice to be able to live off the grid and rely on solar and generator power to supply our energy needs. It allows us to get into some pretty quiet and remote areas. Narrowing down our favorite boondocking spot was a tough choice between Gravel Lake in Mentasta Lake, Alaska, and Goodenough Creek Campground in McCammon, Idaho. We spent three wonderfully relaxing weeks at Gravel Lake, where we appreciated an occasional moose wading into the water, trumpeter swans skiing to a stop on the manmade lake, and quiet solitude interrupted infrequently by a camper passing through. Despite that peaceful and much-needed stop after a very busy and ambitious Alaska adventure, we named Goodenough Creek Campground our favorite boondocking stay because of the incredible beauty of vibrant red maple leaves that surrounded us there. I owe the benefit of viewing the amazing scenery at Goodenough Creek to my free-spirited husband, who’s successfully worn down my rigid edges over the years to make it possible for me to move locations within an hour of his suggestion. It used to take me many days to think about a decision of that magnitude, and by then, the opportunity would have evaporated. Favorite Overnight Stop On the way to Alaska and back, we mainly boondocked at turnouts along the highway. In addition to those overnight stops for the year, we stayed at a few truck stops, a museum, a mall, and a grocery store — all with permission. As you can imagine, some of those stays were more scenic than others. Kluane Lake Viewpoint Parking in Destruction Bay, Yukon, made the top overnight spot in our book. We visited the site on our way to Alaska, when ice covered much of the lake, and again on our way back, when the mountains lacked snow. We found both times to be beautiful and refreshing. Spotting the northern lights from this location made it that much more special. Favorite Moochdocking Spot We’re pretty spoiled in that we’re blessed to be able to stay with family and friends across the continent during our travels. We spent two weeks with cousins near Fairbanks, Alaska, another few weeks with cousins in Willow, Alaska, and a week with an aunt and uncle in Palmer, Alaska.
We also took advantage of a week with friends near Nampa, Idaho, a night with friends in Calgary, Alberta, a night at a Boondockers Welcome host in Carvel, Alberta, and a week at the Museum of Mountain Flying in Missoula, Montana. We always appreciate our moochdocking stays and find it difficult to rank them. Each offers something different and memorable. If we had to choose our favorite for the year, it would be a toss-up between Willow, Alaska, and Nampa, Idaho. In Willow, we parked in such a way that our rig overlooked a lake and gave us inspiring views of the water and the birds and beavers that call it home. Finding campgrounds costly and boondocking options minimal in Nampa, we stored Tagalong for a week and stayed in the home of friends Kerry and Bev — and their little dog, Kona, whom we fell in love with. Favorite State Without a doubt, our favorite state of the year was Alaska. We found our time there fun, adventurous, and tranquil. We enjoyed catching up with family there and being able to get up close and personal to God’s amazing creation. We’re already planning another trip back. You might also like 5 Favorite Things About Our Summer RV Trip to Alaska. RV lifestyles come in two major forms: seasonal full-time RV living and life on the road. The first can include a stationary setup in one location for fall and winter or winter and spring and a stationary setup in another location for the other two seasons. We’ve found that by combining the two types of RV lifestyles, with seven months on the road and five months in a single location, we get the best of both worlds. Nomad on the Move Most of the year, we travel the country to see destinations and visit loved ones along the way. As Bob likes to say, “Throw a dart at a map of the U.S., and we might be there.” He’s right, as our itinerary changes every year — sometimes on a monthly or daily basis. That’s one of the things we relish about RV life: the flexibility. If friends and family at an upcoming stop have to leave town suddenly, we can quickly change plans and reroute our course. If our planned travel day looks iffy because of rain and storms, we can pivot and stay put for a few more days or even a week. In this nomadic lifestyle, we typically move to a new location every week or two. In doing so, it becomes second nature for us to pack and close the trailer, hook it up to Gulliver, spend hours on the road, park, and set up camp. Lather, rinse, repeat. While in a location, we try to make a point to investigate our surroundings and get a feel for the area. That’s part of the adventure. Each stop holds a sense of intrigue and mystery. We immerse ourselves in the locality and try to find off-the-beaten-path things to do — as well as some popular things to do, such as visiting national and state parks. Seasonal Resident When we’re not moving every week, we live a completely different life. Bob equates it to taking off one jacket and putting on another, much like Mr. Rogers did. With months in one location and a reprieve from regularly packing and setting up the trailer, we enjoy more leisure and get comfortable in our home. We feel freer to leave things out, such as my puzzle table and in-process projects, and we notice bare spots that could use decoration. This can lead to accumulation creep, something we have to guard against. While stationary, we tend to live the way we would if we had a sticks-and-bricks home. Bob goes to the Commemorative Air Force three days a week to put his aircraft mechanic degree to work on WWII bombers, and I get into my daily work routine. We habitually frequent the grocery store, and our calendar fills up with activities and get-togethers. Being static also gives us ample time to address maintenance, issues, and needed upgrades on our truck and trailer. The Human Perspective Because we have traveling to look forward to when we’re stationary and an end of travel in sight when we grow weary of being on the road, we really do have the best of both worlds. It keeps life exciting and fun — as does meeting amazing people, which happens in both RV lifestyles. I think of the trucker we crossed paths with in Michigan, who graciously gave us diesel exhaust fluid (DEF) at a rest area when we were about to run out. Without that in our truck, it would have slowed to a painful 5 mph.
The trucker wouldn’t take money in exchange for the DEF, so I suggested we pay it forward. A few minutes later, another trucker pulled into the rest area with a flat tire and no way to fix it to move on. We offered the use of our 80-pound air compressor, happy to help. While we were assisting this second trucker, another RVer pulled up and asked if we needed help. We also met a young couple early in their RV life and were able to share some tips and advice. At a boondocking spot, fellow RVers gave us guidance based on their RVing experience. And another RVer lent us a water hose to add to ours so we could fill our water tank without moving our trailer. Stationary RVers are just as friendly and welcoming. We regularly exchange greetings and conversations with our seasonal neighbors. And they’re always quick to give us a hand if we need it, just as we’re eager to help them if we can. The RV community is one of people helping people. We’re thankful to be part of it. You might also like Confessions of a Full-Time RVer. The red rocks of Moab, Utah, draw upward of 1.8 million visitors annually to take in their beauty. We had passed through once, in awe of the vibrant scenery around us — and of the number of people thronging the road. Despite the crowds, the city of 5,200 left us with a desire to return when we had more time to explore. The big attraction in Moab is Arches National Park, which beckons tourists to navigate its 76,519 acres in search of more than 2,000 sandstone arches. A drive through the park provides glimpses of a handful of the natural structures. Seeing the others requires hikes of varying lengths. In a 3.5-hour span with multiple stops, we lay eyes on about a dozen of the magnificent rock formations, in addition to petrified sand dunes and other captivating displays. The mesmerizing beauty left us in awe and hearkened back to a bygone era, documented at one point by petroglyphs on a rock. One thing we noticed missing from this national park that we’d encountered at others was wildlife — although Gulliver did get a not-so-secret admirer. Going on a Dino Hunt A lesser-known noteworthy aspect of Moab is its dinosaur history. In addition to a couple of museums, the city offers three dinosaur track sites, with imprints of massive wildlife of old. Mill Canyon Dinosaur Tracksite showcases fossilized dinosaur footprints preserved in limestone, protected by a boardwalk around the “stomping ground.” According to plaques at the site, algae covered the shallow lake, capturing the dinosaurs’ tracks before the water, mud, and algae dried up and hardened into limestone, with the prints intact. We saw 10 different kinds of tracks, representing dinos of varying sizes, from velociraptor up to brontosaurus. Thinking about the gargantuan creatures roaming the area made us feel small and gave us a completely different perspective on our surroundings. Wild Pterodactyl Chase Wanting to see a more impressive display, we headed to Copper Ridge Dinosaur Trackways and set out on Dino Flow Trail, which we believed to be 1.5 miles. Nearly 3 miles later, it had become quite evident I had taken Bob on a wild pterodactyl chase. After the trail meandered over multiple rises and around numerous bends, no track site came into view. We decided to cut our losses and turn around. Returning to the parking area, the actual location of the imprints became apparent. We had read that this location offered two areas of tracks. We didn't realize they both started at the same trail. Reviews said the site closest to the beginning of the Copper Mine Ridge trailhead wasn’t too impressive. The more alluring site lay 1.5 miles up the trail. Having already put 5 miles under our belts, we forwent the latter and settled for the first, finding it plenty awe-inspiring. We could actually stand in some of the enormous footprints and imagine the weight and size of the behemoths that made them. Picking a Bone Our dino hunt didn’t end there. The Moab area also offers a place to see fossilized dinosaur bones intact in hardened rocks, not in a museum. We headed to the Mill Canyon Dinosaur Bone Trail. A sign warning of soft sand and recommending only four-wheel-drive vehicles beyond that point stopped us in our tracks. Since Gulliver isn’t four-wheel-drive, we didn’t want to risk getting stuck in the soft sand like we had done in Traverse City, Michigan. It seemed we’d have to end our dino hunt. I reread reviews about the dinosaur bone trail and learned we weren’t the only ones who didn’t want to drive beyond the sign. Others had parked nearby and walked the half mile to the trailhead. We decided the additional 1-mile round-trip trek would be worth it. The walk through soft sand and over rocks confirmed we had made the right decision in not taking Gulliver down the path. Arriving at the Mill Canyon Dinosaur Bone Trail, we noticed paths in three different directions. Where were we to find the bones? We opted for the trail just past a visitor sign-in podium and encountered a plaque a few strides later. We had chosen wisely. Hardened Evidence Signs like the first were sprinkled along the trail, describing what to find in each area, with detailed information about where to look. Had it not been for the plaques, we wouldn’t have known the rock color variances we observed as we walked along a ridge were actually bones from giants that once walked the land. The fossils looked darker than the rocks in which they were wedged. More amazingly, they felt different from the rock surrounding them, lighter in weight like calcified bones. We saw and touched foot, toe, arm, leg, rib, and spine skeletal parts from sauropods — the generic name for plant-eating dinosaurs with long necks and tails that could span 20 to 112 feet in length. I found it hard to believe that a creature so large could survive on plants alone. We also observed bones from a meat-eating allosaurus with a max length of about 30 feet.
Playing paleontologist made our Jurassic adventure a fun and memorable experience. It also gave us a greater appreciation for prehistoric times, when colossal animals roamed the vast Earth. You might also like Exploring Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada. The state of Montana stretches across 147,000 square miles, encompassing Glacier National Park and numerous national forests. Its wide-open spaces offer panoramic views of the big sky, giving it the nickname “Big Sky Country” and making it a welcome sight after a summer in expansive Alaska. We had spent time in the 41st state on tour with the Commemorative Air Force, but we hadn’t visited with our fifth wheel. Wanting to put Montana on our RV map, we made a point to stop there for a week in Missoula, in the western part of the state. The scenic drive down from Canada took us around the enormous Flathead Lake and past wild bison, deer, and turkeys. Missoula features Fort Missoula, which dates back to 1877; Hiawatha Trail, a 15-mile downhill bike trail through nine train tunnels and across seven trestles (closed when we were there); breweries; museums; and a whole lot more. It’s famous for trout fishing, as well as a few other things you might not be aware of: 1. Smokejumping Missoula has a long history with firefighting and smokejumping, dating back to 1919, when the city started engaging in patrolling fires from the air over national forests in the western states. Since that time, the practice has progressed to include dropping teams of “smokejumpers” into areas near fires to fight them. We went to the Smokejumper Visitor Center for a tour to learn more about this fascinating aspect of Montana history and were not disappointed. Displays provided information and visuals about the equipment needed to parachute into a fire area to put it out. Jumpers, who sometimes land in trees instead of open spaces, have to carry more than 100 pounds of supplies with them for the first 24 hours. Modern parachutes provide more firefighter control than early models did, giving jumpers better chances of landing in open areas. Additional supplies, including firefighting tools and rations for 48 hours, are dropped in after firefighters reach their targets. The tour included walking through the working smokejumper facility and seeing where parachutes are packed, where firefighters sew their own gear, where parachutes are tested, and more. Part of the U.S. National Forest Service, the Smokejumper Visitor Center tour is free and well worth it if you find yourself in Missoula and have an hour to kill. 2. Mountain Flying Although Idaho holds the title for the first smoke jump, Montana is the birthplace of mountain flying. Missoula’s Museum of Mountain Flying pays homage to that heritage. Featuring aircraft, vehicles, displays, photos, and artifacts, the hangar honors and preserves the history of the Johnson Flying Service from the 1920s to the 1970s for a reasonable price: $4 for adults and $10 for a family. The centerpiece of the museum is a 75-year-old restored and airworthy C-47 dubbed “Miss Montana.” Although the airplane never saw combat during WWII, it holds a special place in the hearts of many Montanas for its rich history in smokejumping — including the Mann Gulch Fire of 1949 — and transporting cargo and civilians. The plane also took part in the 75th anniversary of Normandy. You can even watch a film about the restoration process to make that happen. 3. Bison Roaming Another interesting thing to see in the Missoula area is the Bison Range. Montana’s wide-open spaces allow plenty of room for bison to roam. We made an hourlong trek outside the city to the range to check it out. A $20 per-vehicle fee gives visitors the option to drive the two-hour combined Mountain Drive and Prairie Drive or the out-and-back Prairie Drive alone. Unfortunately, we arrived too late to tour the higher Mountain Drive, where we can only guess more animals wandered closer to the road than they did on the Prairie Drive. Although we saw some bison and deer, the experience paled in comparison to how close we were able to get to wildlife on the Alaska Highway. Having grown up hearing about buffalo, we couldn’t help but wonder about the difference between bison and buffalo. You may be wondering too. Suffice it to say that any animal you come across in the U.S. that you think is a buffalo is actually a bison. Buffalo are native to Asia and Africa. Bison, characterized by a big hump on their backs, graze in North America and Europe. They’re also larger than buffalo. (Think water buffalo for comparison.) 4. Carousel Designing Carousels are common attractions around the world. What makes A Carousel for Missoula special is the story behind it — and its speed. It’s by far the fastest carousel I’ve ever ridden on. There’s a good reason they make you buckle in on your animal of choice.
Initiated by a Missoula cabinet maker, A Carousel for Missoula is a testament to volunteerism at its finest. Over a four-year period, the cabinet maker and several wood carvers, mechanics, painters, and artists donated more than 100,000 hours to create a masterpiece. The community got involved too. Schoolchildren collected more than 1 million pennies to pay for four ponies. Housed in a building downtown near Clark Fork River to protect it from the elements, the carousel delights children of all ages. Rides are $1 for children and $2 for ages 12 and up. You might also like Investigating Idaho, the Country’s 43rd State. |
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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March 2024
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