Making a Mark with Our RV

“Try not to make too many ruts,” my brother said before we pulled forward onto his property in Michigan. Not wanting to repeat our experience of having to be towed, we had called him the day before to check on the wetness of the land. Steve assured us we’d be able to park in his farm yard. 

“That thing is heavy,” were the next words out of his mouth as he assessed the damage left by Tagalong’s weight sinking into the soft ground, a result of 4 inches of rain the week before and ½ inch that morning. Bob spun our 18,000-pound trailer around so he could back it into position, carving 6-inch deep ruts in the process. I guess you could say we made a mark with our RV.

As Bob stepped on the gas pedal to back into place, our heavy rig moved only slightly before Gulliver’s dually tires spun out, gouging even deeper ruts. Gulliver couldn’t push Tagalong out of the deep-seated grooves in reverse. Driving in forward instead likely would have been a different story.

A Sticky Situation

In bare feet (his norm), Steve ran over to get his Jeep. For the third time in our five years of full-time RV living, we had gotten Gulliver and Tagalong stuck. Only this time, we didn’t have to rely on a commercial tow truck or the goodness of fellow campers — and four-wheel drive likely wouldn’t have prevented this sticky situation. 

Although we didn’t pick up tire chains like tow truck driver Cody had advised after rescuing us from Jim and Jenny’s front yard nearly two months earlier, we were prepared with a sturdy tow strap, and Steve was prepared with a Jeep. Bob connected the strap to the back of Tagalong, and Steve attached it to the front of his Jeep.

This time as Bob attempted to back up, Steve helped pull Gulliver and Tagalong out of the ruts they’d created and farther back in the yard. But we didn’t get fully into position before stopping … and getting stuck again. Steve repositioned his Jeep, and he and Bob doubled the strap to shorten the connection between the two vehicles. We were running out of yard space.

The trailer wouldn’t budge. Unable to move our big rig back any farther, we considered our location good and separated the Jeep from the trailer. I stacked two boards in front of Tagalong’s driver-side tires, and Bob drove forward to pull the trailer onto them and make it level side to side. Then we ran through our normal checklist to disconnect Tagalong from Gulliver and set up camp.

Piece of Paradise

We’re enjoying farm living in Michigan, eating fresh produce, listening to the natural sounds of cows lowing, birds singing, roosters crowing, farmers plowing, mowers humming, and children playing. Cool breezes refresh us, walks down the dirt road invigorate us, and hearty farm cooking makes us rub our bellies in delight — and fullness.

Rural life has a lot of appeal. Each farm offers an escape from the hustle and bustle of city life where life is simpler and more serene. It can also be an incredible amount of work for those who choose to take advantage of its fertile soil and wide expanse. Our appreciation for those hard workers grows every time we find ourselves in a rural area, which is much more often than not.

In our wake, we’re leaving Steve even more work to clean up our tracks — and a mess to meander when he mows. He has a plan to restore the surface of his yard. We hope carrying it out goes smoothly. 

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