RV Livin’ - The Good, The Bad, and The Poop Tube

The scenery of Arizona makes an impression, but this trip will be mostly remembered for the way we traveled and lived these last 5 days on our 27-foot vehicle/bedroom/kitchen/living room/bathroom/iPad charging station.

Here’s the dirt and the dirty on amateur RV living:

We rented our RV from a lovely couple in Scottsdale through Outdoorsy, which is like AirBnB for RVs. I went with the newest rig I could find because that seemed like the safest bet for comfort, reliability, and not getting stuck with an old, beat-up RV for a week. There are enough unknowns as an RV-newbie without adding in the nasty factor.

We quickly learned that a well-organized rig is key. This one came equipped with a shoe basket, hanging organizers, and every compartment labeled with its contents. The RV is designed to maximize every inch of space while ensuring that everything can be battened down for twisty road travel.

Rules of the Road

We decided that living in a small space required a community agreement that we named “The Rules of the Road”. Nobody followed these rules. 

• No screaming
• No fighting/punching
• No cursing
• No farting
• No twerking
• Keep your stuff together and cleaned up
• Everyone helps
• When we say to get off technology, get off

The Good

1. Everything is a novelty. Like grocery shopping, grilling, throwing a football around, showering, and attaching the rig to electricity. We’re all a little out of our comfort zones and feeling the thrill of small successes, such as running water. There’s a shared sense of purpose that makes my mama heart feel good.
2. There’s space to spread out, nap, and play cards on long trips. Which makes the backseat cage-fighting match of our usual car trips obsolete.
3. There’s a bathroom, running water, and a stocked kitchen on board when you get stuck behind an accident on a 2-lane road for over an hour. 
   And again when your last leg becomes a 6-hour drive due to forest fire detours.
4. Togetherness. For good and for bad. Mostly good.
5. A different perspective - on the scenery, the people, the things we take for granted, the history of the earth, indigenous lands, the amount of water we use to wash dishes, the recklessness of selfie photographers, the clarity that comes from checking out.
   
   

The Bad
Not bad, per se, but these are the things that I’m excited to leave behind:

1. The mattress.
2. The constant awareness of water and sewage tanks.
3. Lack of dining options. I’m ready for someone else to cook me a meal.
4. Driving a giant ve-hicle (that’s for Jon, written in his new truck-drivin’ accent) through high winds and low visibility sand storms.
5. Hour six of the drive back to Scottsdale.

The Poop Tube
If you’re still reading, it’s probably because you’re waiting for all the juicy (ew) details on the…ahem…extraction. The traveling toilet tank is probably the biggest deterrent for RV travel. Our movie minds have been filled with fecal fear.

And rightfully so. This is not a thing you want to get wrong. And I’m happy to report that a) I had nothing to do with this process, and b) Jon (and his assistant, Tyler) made it through the week without any explosive, movie-worthy scenes.

To sum it up, this trip was a shitload of fun!