 Canada offers a lot of beautiful scenery: majestic mountains, towering evergreen trees, massive bodies of water, bright green grass, abundant wildlife, and quaint towns. Many RVers enter the country for a peaceful camping experience. We had a trek to Alaska in mind, which requires driving through British Columbia and the Yukon. We had done a little research before crossing the Canadian border to find out what we could take, what we couldn’t, and special requirements. We learned there were restrictions on chicken and eggs but that fresh produce was OK to bring. After watching videos of other RVers’ border crossings, we realized the Border Services Officers didn’t tend to request much in the form of paperwork. We felt prepared to enter the country and decided to cross at Eastport, Idaho, as we were working our way from Eugene, Oregon, to Dawson Creek, British Columbia, for the official start of the Alaska Highway.  Interrogation We reached the border crossing and stopped behind a semi-truck. After about 10 minutes in line, it was our turn to approach the border inspection station, where we handed over our passports and were greeted with a battery of questions:
Because we live in our RV, we often answer the “Where are you from?” question by saying we’re full-time RVers. Thankfully, Bob remembered to provide our legal city and state: Sioux Falls, South Dakota. We assured the officer no one was traveling with us. We didn’t know at the time that we had a stowaway (more on that later). Excitedly, we shared that we were headed to Alaska and would be in the country fewer than 30 days. Bob enjoyed telling the officer that I worked as an editor and that his job was to “keep looking this good.” Bob volunteered that we were carrying two rifles and had paperwork for them. That led to another question: “Why are you carrying the rifles?” We answered for protection against dangerous wildlife. Bob also volunteered that the rifles and the ammo were locked separately. The agent asked where the rifles were. We told him. Then the officer asked if we had any other weapons. We told him we left them behind in Arizona. He asked what we left behind. Bob rattled off the list. The guard asked if we had any pistols with us. We assured him we didn’t. He asked if we had any other ammo for guns we didn’t have in our possession. We told him no. We remembered we had a small canister of CBD cream we had picked up about three years earlier and divulged that information. We had purchased it for its supposed benefits for bodily aches and pains. After a few uses, we weren’t convinced it really worked. In-Person Encounter Because we had rifles and the necessary paperwork to carry them through the country, we had to park and go inside the building. The guard told us not to take the rifles with us, to leave them where they were, but to take the CBD cream. We obeyed. Inside the building, we presented our paperwork and the CBD cream to another official. We paid a $25 fee to carry the rifles. The officer told us they’d accept anything but American cash. As for the cream, it seemed to be problematic as cannabis and CBD items are controlled substances in Canada. As such, it required extra paperwork for the Border Services Officers but not for us. We offered to surrender the CBD cream if that would make things easier. The agent told us that was going to happen anyway. Because of that extra paperwork, we had to show an ID. Since our driver’s licenses didn’t display our current address, the official also requested to see our truck registration. I ran out in the rain to get it. We saw another fifth wheeler get turned around back to the U.S. for having what looked like some sort of vape device. After showing our truck registration, we got our rifle paperwork back along with a receipt for our payment, and we were free to tour the country — about 20 minutes after arriving at the border crossing. Illegal Immigrant(s) We didn’t know we had smuggled a stowaway into Canada until later that night, when we heard scurrying across our ceiling as we tried to sleep. The day before, we had discovered evidence that a rodent had found its way into our rig. Since we were boondocking in Eastern Washington state at the time, we guessed the unwelcome houseguest to be a field mouse.  Much of our incentive for risking a rainy drive to enter Canada was to get away from field mice. We had hoped the washboard road away from our boondocking spot would be enough to scare the critter away or knock it out permanently. No such luck. After setting up at a campground in Kimberley, British Columbia, and enjoying a relaxing evening, Bob stayed up late playing a video game. A field mouse scampered across the living room floor in plain sight, uninhibited by the bright lights. (I had read that field mice don’t like light.) Ours was a rebel. We went out the next day to purchase mouse traps. Before we left, we discovered signs of a mouse in our upper cabinet, which we thought was safe from rodents. We knew if any got in there, they would hit the mother lode: baking ingredients, cereal, rice, dry beans, and pasta. How did a mouse get in there? we wondered. We removed all of the contents from the cabinet and found evidence that the mouse had chewed a hole in our interior. The creature had been traveling across our rafters, having a heyday. That’s why we had heard it overhead in bed. After returning from the store, we set out four traps. By 3 p.m., one snapped, announcing that we had caught a mouse. We reset the trap to make sure we didn’t have more rodents. That night, we didn’t hear any ceiling scurrying.
By the next morning, we caught another mouse. We reset that trap too. Better safe than sorry. Sure enough, the cycle continued, with a third trapped mouse the next day. We reset the traps again and awoke the next morning to find them all empty. We had successfully freed our rig from three illegal, unwelcome guests and could get back to normal full-time RV life. You might also like Driving Across the Border to Mexico.
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 After two weeks in the desert outside of Las Vegas, we took advantage of a break in the weather and headed north. We made it to Twin Falls, Idaho, and decided to hunker down for some more not-so-great weather to pass through. As we were setting up, we noticed some water pooled on top of a storage bin in our basement, made a mental note to check it later, and continued on. Good thing, because no sooner had we finished setting up and moved inside the trailer than a rainshower hit. We thanked God for giving us a clear window of weather for the duration of our trip. Winter Wonderland Grateful to be in a city where we could restock our supplies, we headed to a grocery story the next day. Not long after we got all our goods inside the trailer and put away, I noticed white flakes flying at us. We hadn’t seen snow since we’re not sure when. It stuck only briefly before melting away. The same thing happened the next day. The third day, however, we awoke to a winter wonderland. A fresh layer of snow blanketed Gulliver and the ground outside our trailer. We took joy in our frosty surroundings, a welcome change of scenery from the desert landscape. Our delight didn’t last long, though. While busy about our day, we both heard a loud crash and jumped up to see what had happened. Peering out our windows didn’t reveal anything conclusive, so we bundled up and left the warmth of our trailer to investigate. Ice covered our stairs. Careful not to slip, we braved the 30-degree temperature that felt like 18 with the wind chill. We found plenty of snow and ice on the roof and water on the ground where some had melted, but no clear indication of what had caused the noise. We decided a sheet of ice must have been blown by the wind and crashed into something on the roof or onto the ground. Water in the Basement The wind continued to blow that day until all snow and ice had been eliminated from our roof and our surroundings. Despite the blustery conditions, we made a point to sop up the water in our basement, dejected to have yet another water problem.  As we tried to identify the source of the leak, we noticed a warped, discolored ceiling panel and a drip from the box protecting our leveling wires from damage. Bob pulled down the ceiling panels and more water dripped from them. A closer look at the panels revealed we had had an issue for a while. We touched the water pipes originating from the bathroom. They felt completely dry. We decided the water must have been a result of condensation since we found ourselves in much colder conditions than we had experienced up to this point. Nothing else made sense. So, we stuffed a rag around the pipes in the bathroom floor to seal the hole between it and the basement. Shark Bites Save the Day The next morning, we dried the pool again. Midday, when the weather had warmed ever so slightly, we found yet another puddle in the basement. “Where could the water be coming from?” we wondered. I had noticed a white, hard-water residue on top of the storage bin. Putting my sleuthing skills to work and investigating under the bathroom sink, I saw that same white residue on the cold water PEX pipe. Aha! We sopped up the water in the basement, again, and secured a rag around the blue PEX pipe under the sink to test our theory. A few hours later, sure enough, the rag under the sink was wet and the basement was dry. We had finally pinpointed the source of the water: a seep, not a drip, from the cold water pipe close to the bathroom faucet. That explained why we occasionally heard the water pump kick on when we weren’t running any faucet.  To repair the leak, Bob went to the local Ace Hardware store and bought some Shark Bite ball valves to enable us to turn off the water to the bathroom sink if needed in the future. Unlike sticks-and-bricks homes, RVs don’t typically have shut-off valves at sinks. Bob also got some short, braided hoses to ensure enough flexibility to make the needed fix. He cut the red and blue PEX pipes under the bathroom sink, attached the braided pipes and the SharkBite valves, and connected everything back together. Voila! No more water leak.  An Alarming Adventure At 4:30 one morning during our stay in Twin Falls, a high-pitched beeping pulled us out of our warm slumber. It sounded like the familiar noise we hear when a propane tank runs empty. I got up to switch the tanks and noticed a flashing light in the bathroom, where we have a battery monitor. The unpleasant sound turned out to be coming from there. Relieved that I didn’t have to go out in the cold to deal with propane bottles, I looked closer at the monitor and saw 33 degrees. It alerted us to near-freezing temperatures inside the front battery compartment of our rig, which meant it would be dangerous to charge our batteries until the compartment warmed up. Bob was able to stop the noise, and we drifted back to sleep. No batteries were harmed. Our water leak was gone. And we were warm. We had and continue to have much to be thankful for. You might also like Frozen Pipes, Armadillos, and Brake Issues — Oh My!  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.   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.  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 had planned to organize our RV cellar to make room for some new ground-mounted solar panels. Opening our cellar compartment, we found something no RVer ever wants to find: a puddle with no clearly identifiable source. The small puddle could have been a fluke, so we opened the front compartment … and quickly wished we hadn’t. More water greeted us. But where did it come from? We pulled out three waterlogged boxes and saw a drip. Pushing up on the foil bubble wrap ceiling in the compartment forced more water out. We opened a side compartment and pushed on the ceiling from there. Yep, more water. Returning to the front compartment, the foil ceiling felt heavy and cold to the touch. We milked much of the water out — probably about a half gallon. But we still needed to find the source. In Search of the Leak I climbed onto the roof, something neither of us had done in many months. We had hired a guy to clean our rig in October. He told us the roof looked good and mentioned some issues toward the front where the rubber membrane meets the nose cap. We assumed he was referring to a known issue from when we ripped our roof in 2020, so we didn’t bother following up. We wish we would have.  The Eternabond tape we had used to secure our ripped roof membrane back in place under the nose cap had lost some of its stickiness, probably due to wind, exposing some screws and the seam. A day of steady rain a week earlier must have allowed water to get into the trailer and find its way to our compartments. Thankfully, it didn’t make its way into the interior of the rig. So much for organizing the cellar. A new project lay before us: peeling off the old sticky Eternabond and self-leveling caulk that spanned the width of the roof. Two hours later, with our hands ripped and blisters on both of my thumbs, we succeeded in removing the goop and replacing the Eternabond tape.  We ventured to Camping World to purchase enough self-leveling caulk to complete the roof job the next day. It went much smoother and faster — and was easier on our hands.  Still More Water Rain the following day tested our handiwork. Our patch job held up to the elements. But when we checked the compartment where we had originally found water, we found more, much to our chagrin. Again, we rubbed along the ceiling to force as much water out as we could. We also took the opportunity to reseal any other ways the water might have gotten in: seams around windows and along edges and trim — and just in time. That night we got more rain. Eager to find our water issue solved, we peeked in the front compartment. No visible evidence of water. But, once again, rubbing my hand along the ceiling brought more water out from hiding. Bummer! Although confident our patched roof and resealed seams withstood the downpour, we were dumbfounded as to the source of the accumulation. We emptied the trailer cellar of its contents so we could get behind the walls protecting the plumbing. Examination revealed no evident leak, other than an old one from our water pump. With easy access to that, Bob replaced the pump while I repeatedly pushed the water-laden compartment ceiling from one end to the other until I hardly got anything out.  We theorized that we must not have gotten out all of the water from the previous rainfall. Some must have been trapped in the insulation above the compartment ceiling and released after we closed that compartment the last time. Down to Bare Pipes After a rainfree day, we still found we could get water out of the front compartment ceiling. Bob had an epiphany: Our rig is plumbed for a washer and dryer, and those pipes sit above the apparent source of the leak. He pulled a panel off the bedroom closet to access the pipes. Moisture clung to the bottoms of the pipes. Condensation, perhaps? Putting our heads in the opening, we could see discoloration on the fiberglass nose cap, indicating part of it was wet. That fit our theory about the water working its way out from the roof leak.  We pulled out the dresser drawers to expose more pipes and found moisture there as well. Leaving both areas open to air out, we set up some fans to circulate air in and out of the nose cap area. After about three days of that, we still got water out of the front compartment. Our only remaining option to truly get to the source of the issue was to peel back the foil bubble wrap ceiling in the compartment. Why hadn’t we done that from the start? It involved removing some screws, and we weren’t sure we’d be able to get it back into place. Clearly, it formed a moisture barrier, so we didn’t want to compromise its integrity. We peeled back the ceiling and found a little more water … and a soaked corner of the fiberglass insulation. But that was it. Our theory proved true: The water had been steadily working its way out of the rig from the original source of the leak in the roof.  We replaced the fiberglass insulation with foam and put the ceiling back together. After a week of water woes, our rig is once again watertight.
You might also like Our Biggest Challenges in Our Third Year of RV Travel.  RV life, like anything else, has its ups and downs. The ups include freedom, flexibility, and exploration. But those perks can come at the expense of difficult, stressful drives trying to maneuver a vehicle the size of a semi-truck through unfamiliar neighborhoods when Google Maps steers us wrong. Although a white-knuckled drive through New York City with fear of low-clearance bridges proved treacherous, it didn’t make our list of top challenges in our third year of RV travel. Neither did rising fuel costs, which we were able to offset with a lot of moochdocking and boondocking stays. Here’s what did make the list, in no particular order: 1. Flat Tires  After two years on the road, we experienced only one flat tire. In our third year, however, we encountered four — all on our trailer. Two of the flats, about a week apart, were caused by leaks in the stem, related to the tire pressure monitors there. We quickly learned how to gingerly attach the monitors to avoid weakening the stems. The other two flats resulted from our tires disintegrating from the inside out. Thankfully, in each circumstance, we were able to safely navigate to the side of the road to replace the faulty tire with our spare. And we got really good at changing tires. Since we had purchased our trailer tires, and a warranty, at Discount Tire, we were able to replace them inexpensively. 2. Tornado Warnings  When you live in a home made of lightweight materials such as plywood and aluminum, you know its likelihood of standing up to a powerful tornado is extremely low. Because of that, we take any tornado warning seriously. In our second year of travel, we endured our first tornado warning, a sobering experience. In 2022, we encountered three such situations. Our first occurred while we were in New Orleans. The state campground had bathroom buildings we could have sheltered in, but we would have had to separate in the men’s and women’s rooms. Wanting to weather the storm, literally, together, we opted to ride it out in our truck in an empty parking lot, away from potential debris. The second warning hit while we were at a state campground in Mississippi. Because the campground was on the Gulf Coast, buildings in the area were on stilts. Again, not wanting to separate in the men’s and women’s restrooms, we headed to the second story of a building on stilts and hung out with other campers in the laundry room. The third warning occurred while we were staying at a Boondockers Welcome host in South Carolina. It spurred us to visit our hosts’ home. They graciously invited us in to ride out the storm. In each instance, a tornado did not touch down near us, and we stayed safe. 3. Leveling  Leveling woes continued to plague us, to the point that Bob called a Lippert (the maker of our leveling system) tech while trying to set up the trailer near San Antonio. That worked to get the trailer level, and we picked up some other tricks along the way.
We learned to get the nose of the trailer higher than level before hitting the autolevel button on our Lippert system. We also learned to stack blocks under each leveling jack/stabilizer before trying to autolevel. This prevents the system from getting an out-of-stroke error, which had been a common occurrence for us. As a result, instead of it taking two hours to reach equilibrium at a mobile home/RV park like last year, we were able to do so in about 30 minutes, our normal time. The challenges we encounter help us better appreciate the good aspects of RV living. Despite the struggles, we’re happy with our lifestyle and are enjoying the journey. Thank you for following along. You might also like Scariest RV Moments of 2021.  Be careful what you wish for. We had planned to head to Albuquerque from Branson, Missouri, for two reasons: to shorten the remaining distance to our planned stops in Arizona and to get to higher elevation for cooler weather. Wanting to make the 868-mile drive in two days, we hit the road. Near the Oklahoma-Texas border, we started searching for an overnight stop near Amarillo and made a reservation. The warm weather prevented us from our original aim of spending the night at a rest area. We needed an electric hookup to run our air conditioner. A few minutes later, our invaluable tire pressure monitoring system (TPMS) started beeping, alerting us to a fast leak on one of the trailer tires — our fourth such instance this year. Not near any freeway exits, Bob safely pulled us to the side of Interstate 40. Fortunately, the leak was on the passenger side, and we had gotten really good at changing tires. Vehicles whizzed by, shaking the trailer side to side. The faulty tire gave no clear evidence of the leak source. It didn’t appear to be the stem, and no obvious screw or nail caught our eyes. We secured the flat under the trailer where the spare normally goes and continued on our way. Weekend Detour This happened on a Saturday after 5 p.m. A quick Google search revealed the nearest Discount Tire shop — still hours away in Amarillo — closed at 6 and wouldn’t reopen until Monday morning. Bob called some truck stops to see if any of them could patch a tire. A gal at one said we could get in line, and they might get to it at midnight. We kept driving and saw a billboard announcing another truck stop with a tire shop. Taking our chances, we found the shop open. A worker checked the tire to determine the location of the leak. As with the flat a month and a half earlier, this tire had started to come apart. Little wires from the steel belts protruded next to a small hole, too close to the edge of the tire for a patch job. Because we had bought the tire at Discount Tire and paid for a warranty, we knew waiting until Monday would be our best and least expensive option for replacing it. But we had to find somewhere to stay until then. More research led us to an oasis in the prairie: Bobcat Creek RV Park in Sayre, Oklahoma.  After a peaceful, relaxing night there, we considered staying until we got the tire fixed, but that would mean a three-hour round trip for Bob to get to Amarillo and back. And the website for the closest Discount Tire store showed the tire we needed out of stock and unavailable until Thursday. We decided to move closer to Amarillo and found a private lot in Groom, Texas, with one of its four campsites available. Camping with the Windmills Having spent most of the summer in the East, we had forgotten about wind. Camping in Oklahoma included wind, and Bob’s allergies started acting up. Texas didn’t offer any relief. Navigating to the campsite felt like we were in the “Castaway” movie when Tom Hanks finds himself at a crossroads in the middle of nowhere. The only difference was windmills surrounded us in all directions.  We settled into our spot in the shadow of a windmill. The next day, Bob drove about 50 miles to Amarillo to get the tire taken care of. The shop said it could get a replacement by late the next day. We wouldn’t have to wait until Thursday after all. We paid the campsite owner for another couple of nights and hunkered down. The time in Groom gave us an opportunity to visit a homey little cafe on old Route 66 for breakfast one morning. It also made it possible for us to explore the Groom Cross — a 19-story steel structure you can see for miles in either direction on I-40. The land surrounding it features stations of the cross that tell the story of Jesus’ death and resurrection, and a gift shop showcases related souvenirs and decorations. It was worth the stop.  Destination: Albuquerque Bob drove back to Amarillo to pick up the new tire, and we replaced it successfully. Because of my work schedule, we decided to wait until later the next day to move on to Albuquerque. On the way, we watched our TPMS like hawks as the heat of the day and the friction of the road made the tires’ temperatures rise. Thankfully, we made it without incident.  This whole experience reminded us of Proverbs 19:21: “Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand.” Although our plans didn’t work out the way we had hoped, the flat turned out to be a blessing. It helped us realize that, rather than driving on these tires for another year of travel, we should upgrade them to ensure our safety. We’ll see if that new plan pans out.
You might also like Blessing in Disguise.  We had just settled into Mike Rowe’s The Way I Heard It podcast to get beyond a stupid (but all-important at the time) squabble. The diversion worked, lightening our moods and bringing smiles to our faces. The cheer didn’t last long. Midway through one episode, our tire pressure monitoring system (TPMS) started beeping, alerting us to a rapidly deflating tire on our trailer — the third such instance in 2022. Thankfully, the off-ramp to a closed weigh station on the freeway offered the perfect place to pull over. As I emerged from the truck, a loud hissing assaulted my ears. Nearing the trailer, I could see a vapor escaping the front passenger tire.  A Team Effort What Mike Rowe had begun, this situation completed. We both forgot about our squabble and quickly shifted into our roles to fix the situation. Having experienced two other flat tires within two months, we knew exactly what needed to be done and had gotten pretty good at it. I opened the trailer’s passenger side cellar door and removed the lug wrench to lower the spare tire from its secure spot under the rig. I also grabbed our Safe Jack from the cellar, a purchase that has more than paid for itself. It’s the right tool for any job that requires jacking up the trailer. After lowering the spare, I had to crawl under the trailer to pull it out. Bob busied himself in the back of the truck to find the torque wrench and the right size socket to loosen the bad tire’s lug nuts. That done, he crawled under the trailer to jack it up high enough to remove the bad tire and put on the spare. Unlike with our other flat tires, the root cause of this one was not a stem leak. The tire had started to shred. If our TPMS hadn’t notified us of the fast leak, we wouldn’t have even known. Our rig could have sustained serious damage from the shredding tire like a camper neighbor experienced. A tire blowout without a TPMS bent the frame of their slideout, sealing it shut.  We carry a full-size tire under our trailer, the same make and model as the other tires on the coach. It’s a good thing, because this flat happened 1.5 hours from our destination in Bar Harbor, Maine. That’s a long way to go with a smaller, temporary tire. And, it being a Sunday, all of the tire shops in the area were closed. Warranty to the Rescue Having bought a set of trailer tires from Discount Tire in Tennessee in 2021, we knew they were still under warranty. Unfortunately, Discount Tire stores don’t exist in Maine. So, Bob had to call Discount Tire to see if the nearest store, in Boston, could ship the tire we needed to our location. The store associate said they could, so we had to confirm our campground could accept packages. Some campgrounds don’t allow package delivery for temporary residents. Our campground in Bar Harbor said it could receive a package. Bob ordered the tire and arranged with Tire Warehouse in the area to remove the bad tire from our rim and put the new tire on. We only had to pay about $35 for shipping — a bargain when you consider the cost of that new tire out the door neared $250.  Once again, God watched over and took care of us, ensuring we had a safe place to pull over when the leak happened, providing cloud cover while we changed the tire, preparing the way for us to make it to our destination, and arranging for us to replace the bad tire with a new one. And our day only got better from there.
You might also like The Importance of a Pre-travel Walkaround.  Living in a fifth wheel has its pluses and minuses. If we could change anything about it, we’d make it shorter. Our 13-foot, 3-inch height makes it tricky to navigate a lot of areas, including state campgrounds. We always have to be on alert for low-hanging branches and low-clearance bridges. The Northeast U.S. is notorious for low-clearance bridges. When its towns and cities were established in the 1600s, most people got around on foot. If they had to travel great distances, they would take a stagecoach. Although New York’s first bridge emerged in 1693 to connect Manhattan and the Bronx, most bridges didn’t appear until the 1800s. At that time, tall vehicles didn’t exist. Early Semi-Trucks The first semi-truck came on the scene in 1898. Alexander Winton designed it specifically to deliver a car on a trailer to its buyer somewhere in the country. This eliminated wear and tear on the vehicle from driving it to its purchaser.  In 1914, August Charles Fruehauf invented a more substantial semi-trailer to transport his boat. It was later adapted to move lumber. As automobiles became more popular, car dealers needed more efficient ways to deliver the vehicles to purchasers. So, in the 1930s, George Cassens crafted a trailer that could carry four cars at a time. Between 1929 and 1944, Mack Trucks entered the market, creating 2,601 semi trailers. Peterbilt trucks followed in 1939 to transport logs. These early semis paled in comparison to today’s mammoth 18-wheelers that stand 13 feet, 5 inches tall. It wasn’t until 1983 that trailers stretched as long as 48 feet, only 7 feet shy of today’s standard 53 feet. Increasing RV Heights Early campers weren’t much taller than the trucks pulling them. Even initial fifth-wheel campers averaged 8 to 8.5 feet tall. Many original models required people to crawl up to the bed over the top of the truck bed. Gradually, fifth wheels increased in height to about 10 feet, making them easier to live in for a weekend or vacation getaway. RV manufacturers started installing slideouts in fifth wheels in the 1990s to create more living space. Providing adequate ceiling height in these slideouts meant the supporting rig around the slideouts had to be taller. The average height of a modern fifth wheel RV is 13 feet, with many as tall as 13 feet, 5 or 6 inches. Today, towering RVs and semi-trucks roam the highways. Although the width of these vehicles is limited to 102 inches (8 feet, 6 inches) in the U.S., according to the U.S. Department of Transportation, there’s no nationwide vehicle height limit. That varies per state, typically between 13 feet, 6 inches and 14 feet. Maneuvering Roadways In New York City, arched bridges force high-clearance vehicles to drive in the middle lane to ensure they can clear. They’re prevented from certain roadways, where clearance is too low for safe passage.  New York also lists clearances as 6 to 12 inches lower than the height of vehicles that can clear safely — unless the bridge says ACTUAL CLEARANCE. We found this out when we approached a bridge labeled 12’-11” and watched a standard semi pass through unharmed. We followed suit. Rumor has it this height discrepancy is to allow for safe passage even when roads are packed with snow.  Low-clearance challenges aren’t limited to New York. They span all of New England too. Athol, Massachusetts, for example, has an overpass that’s only safe for vehicles 12-foot, 7 inches or less to maneuver. For some reason, a semi-truck driver tried to take the route. Maybe he thought the actual clearance was 13 feet, 7 inches, like in New York. His trailer hit hard, denting the top, and creating a loud boom.  Ensuring Safe Passage
Most road atlases don’t display bridge and tunnel clearances. Similarly, although Google Maps does a good job showing us the quickest, most direct route between two points, it doesn’t take into consideration the height and length of our vehicle. Because of that, we can’t always trust that Google will navigate us safely, as the trucker in Athol discovered. For better results, we use an app called CoPilot. Its $30 annual fee is well worth the peace of mind it provides. We’re able to enter our vehicle dimensions and select if we want to use toll roads, ferries, propane-restricted routes, and more. Based on our choices, the app directs us safely to any destination we enter. Only one time we questioned the route CoPilot directed us to after a white-knuckled drive through winding roads in northeastern Tennessee. Other than that, we’ve fared well. We also make a point to look at the satellite view on Google Maps of any destination we choose and the path to get there to ensure it’s navigable for a rig our size. You might also enjoy Answers to Your Questions About Our RV Lifestyle. |
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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