3 Years -- Part 4 -- The Future

At the end of June this year we started our 4th year as fulltime RV explorers. I thought this might be a good time to reflect on our decision to start this lifestyle, to write a little about what we've learned, and see what the future may hold. This is the final post in this series: Part 4 -- The Future.
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So, what does the future hold? Beats me! In some ways wouldn't we all like a glimpse into our future ... if only that were possible? But in most ways, I think we're probably best off not knowing and just living our lives, as best we can, from day to day... from year to year. As little bundles of protoplasm with finite lives, not knowing details about the future allow us to focus more intently on today... the now.

But to the extent we can mold elements of our future as a result of our experience and feelings about how things have gone these past 3 years, this is what we'd ideally like to happen:
 
1) We don't foresee ending our version of this lifestyle any time soon. We're having too good a time to stop now. The bus-house has become our home and it does what we want it to do most of the time. While there's a whole bunch of things that could go wrong and force us into big changes before we'd like, we choose to focus on what we have today and what we're doing today. You can't lead your life based on "what if's" or "could be's" or "worst cases".

2) One of the reasons we're leading this lifestyle, we've said from the beginning, is to look for that place (or places) where we'd eventually like to settle down again. While it'd be fair to say we really haven't been looking hard at specific places yet... we're just roaming around the country, absorbing environments, letting places sort of "flow over" us... trying to get a sense of what feels right. At this point, we haven't found that place yet, and believe a single ideal place may not even exists for us. (reference my comments about 'compromise' in Part 1 of this series of posts.)

A number of factors enter into this decision. Closeness to family is an important one... maybe the most important. Low population density is a big one for us. Climate and weather are another.  As much as we prefer to escape the depths of those tough northern winters, we also don't want to have anything to do with long desperate hot and humid summers. We've found we like the Texas gulf coast in January and February but don't want to be anywhere near there during summer. I mean, what's worse?... sub-zero temps and snow for 3 or 4 months or stifling heat and humidity for 6 or 7 months? Hmmm. This element is still a work-in-process.

3) As we settled into the lifestyle during the past 3 years we've been putting fewer miles each year on the bus-house and staying a little longer in places we find enjoyable. That trend will probably continue. Relax more, absorb more, enjoy more.

4) There are many more areas of North America that we haven't even touched yet. Among those places still to be explored and absorbed are Canada, Alaska, and the New England states.

5) At some point we'll get a fixed house that we can use as a base of operations for continued explorations. When that happens we'll downsize our big-rig RV to something much smaller that will enable us to get off the paved road and into more rustic camping opportunities. As I said in an earlier post, big-rigs can really limit your spontenaity and ability to go anywhere.

So, here's the plan: we're going for at least another 3 years of exploring and fulltiming, with only minor tweaks and changes.  It's our plan and we're sticking with it.

[Go to Part 3]

Thom & Dar

3 Years -- Part 3 -- More Learnings

At the end of June this year we started our 4th year as fulltime RV explorers. I thought this might be a good time to reflect on our decision to start this lifestyle, to write a little about what we've learned, and see what the future may hold. This is Part 3 -- More Learnings.
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In the first two parts of this series of posts celebrating the completion of our 3rd year as fulltimers, we went over our decision to embark on this lifestyle [part 1], and a few of the more important things we learned along the way [part 2]. In this post I'll briefly list a few more of the things we learned as a result of our life on the road. As always, you can click on any photo to see a larger version.

We've learned that there's no single "right" way to live this lifestyle. Some, like us, have divested themselves of most of their worldly possessions, have no fixed house or real estate, and live 365 days per year in their RV. Others still have a fixed house and only spend part of each year in their RV. Purists consider those in the former class "fulltimers" and those in the latter class "part-timers". The purpose of that distinction is somewhat lost on us, however, as anyone living in an RV for any extended period of time deals with the same issues, problems, concerns, joys, and freedom on a daily basis -- at least while they're living in the RV.   So we consider anyone living in an RV for any extended period of time to be a "fulltimer" (OK, maybe a part-time fulltimer?). For example, those who spend the winter down south in their camper are fulltimers to us, even if they go back to their fixed home up north during the summer.

We've learned that people are fulltiming in all sorts of rigs... truck campers, small travel trailers, class C motorhomes, pop-up tent campers, converted school buses and moving vans, and other this's and that's... really, anything goes. This is America, afterall, and you have options. You don't have to be constrained by other people's ideas about the "right" way to do things. I really enjoy reading the blogs of people who do it differently, those who don't have a big 5th wheel or a Class A motorhome. I generally find they're having a great time doing it their own way.

We've learned that most of the people living the nomadic life are friendly, genuine, really nice people.  Any fears we had about meeting and connecting up with people were put aside the first night we started out. If they're fulltimers, they're generally good people. The lifestyle is also a great equalizer in that people with widely differing backrounds, financial resources, and education, all seem to meld together into a helpful, happy family of sorts.

We've learned that we prefer roads that are not Interstate Highways. Alright, if you're really trying to quickly get from point A to point B, maybe an Interstate Highway is the fastest way to go. But we're not in a hurry. We're out here to see the country. We want to experience history and see natural wonders. And the best way to do that is to meander down the old 2-lane State, County, and U.S. Highways, where you go through small towns... you find restaurants that aren't part of a national chain, and you can experience life at a slower pace. Remember, the Interstate Highway system was designed to go around and by-pass all that stuff. Once we figured out that the bus-house fits on lesser roads, they've become our preferred paths of travel.

We've learned that it's not easy to escape winter in the USA. We've awaken to 6f degrees in West Texas. We've experienced snow in Benson, AZ... just southeast of Tucson. The best chance of finding relative warmth during the coldest winter months in the Continental USA is in South Florida, extreme South Texas, and parts of the desert Southwest from Yuma to San Diego -- which is why these places can be so crowded and congested during that time. One of our prime directives is to avoid crowds and congestion -- which means we'll usually be somewhere other than those three places. We're not escaping winter as much as we're trying to take the edge off it

We've learned that there's far more to explore and experience in the USA than we imagined. This past year we ran into someone who, when they heard about our lifestyle, said "You've been traveling around the country for over two years?... You must have seen everything by now!" We looked at each other and saw our joint impromtu response in each other's eyes... "No, we haven't even scratched the surface! We'll never see everything and do everything there is to explore. There's just soooo much."

We've learned that, up to this point, we do not miss a regular fixed house and we certainly don't crave another one -- at least at this point in the process. That may change eventually, but we've settled into this lifestyle and it feels "right" to us now.

We've also learned the value of recording our travels and explorations in our blog and our photo gallery. Having the ability to go back and re-live those experiences... to read your notes from that day... to look at the photos... maybe a short video clip... is like having a time-machine. It's amazing how those same feelings come back... maybe even the smells... as you re-experience those days even years later.

[The next post, Part 4, will be about our thoughts on the future.]
[Go To Part 2]
[Go To Part 4]

Thom & Dar

3 Years -- Part 2 -- Learnings

At the end of June this year we started our 4th year as fulltime RV explorers. I thought this might be a good time to reflect on our decision to start this lifestyle, to write a little about what we've learned, and see what the future may hold. This is Part 2 -- Learnings.
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Over the past three years of living life as modern day nomads we've learned a thing or two about this RV'ing life. Mostly observations and opinions, they're our take on this lifestyle.

First off, let's talk about the concept of compromise. As part of the human condition we all live with compromise on a daily basis. It's what happens when boundless imagination and desire runs headlong into limits. We may want the mansion on the hill... but our financial resources say "no way" and we settle (compromise) for a 3 bedroom bungalow on the wrong side of town. We may want to run the Boston Marathon... but that pot-belly and those flabby muscles say "are you kiddin' me?" and we compromise for a run/walk 5k. Compromise is part of our daily lives.

Well, this concept of compromise really asserts itself, really comes into play, when you're talking about RV living. I mean just the idea, of a self-contained house that you can take with you on vacation, that you can drive down the highway, is pretty bizarre when you think about it. There are a lot of limits that are imposed on the owner of one of these things -- to legally be on the highway it must fit into state imposed limits on length, width, and weight. There's a limited and very small amount of storage for your stuff. For many, living in one of these things is like trying to stuff 10 pounds into a 5 pound box. So as we work through our list of learnings below, keep in mind that this concept of compromise plays a huge roll in the life of a fulltimer.

We've learned that we prefer "camping" as opposed to "RV parking". Here's a stereotypical description of each: "camping" is being in the woods or forest with campsites separated by natural growth and a lot of space... where you can feel like you're living in nature... where you can leave the window shades open at night... where you can have a campfire... where you can feel secluded from the watchful eyes of others. At campgrounds, it's not uncommon to have no hookups at all... or, if you're lucky, maybe minimal electric power. It's usually necessary to fill your freshwater tank on the way in to your campsite and visit the dump station on the way out.

On the other extreme is parking at RV parks and resorts, where the sites are asphalt or the highly prized concrete pad. These are often antiseptic places where old, tired, and shabby RV's are banned. You'll be neatly parked in perfect lines... so close to your neighbor that you can conveniently pass the gray poupon mustard from camper to camper without stepping outside... where you must close the shades at night, for privacy and to keep the high-intensity security lighting out... where nature is something to be trimmed, controlled, and kept away... where you feel the eyes of others every time you step outside. RV Parks usually have full hookups with 50amp electric service. And RV parks are usually very social -- it's hard to step outside the RV without attracting the attention of neighbors and being drawn into conversation.

In fairness, between the two extremes described above, there are all sorts of variations and permutations. In fact, some places are hard to classify as one or the other... they're really hybrids with some of the best (or worst?) of each. Here's a litmus test if there's any doubt about whether it's a campground or an RV park: if you feel comfortable peeing in the bushes at the edge of your site, you're probably camping.

Despite a preference for one or the other, often your circumstances affect where you choose to overnight. Even though we prefer camping we often choose to stay in RV parks. Sometimes it's the only option. Other times the convenience of full hookups trump more rustic options... especially when planning to be one place for an extended time. It's really a matter of preference, circumstance, and compromise. Some people love the atmosphere of RV parks... love having lots of amenities, planned activities, and the social atmosphere. But we've found that normally, everything else being equal, we prefer the solitude of camping and being close to nature.

Another thing we've learned is that the bus-house is both too small and too big. How can this be Thom? Closely associated with the "camping versus RV parking" thing, the size of an RV is a huge compromise issue. Most people want the largest RV they can get in order to have room and storage space for themselves, their pets, their stuff, and all their toys -- in an effort to hang onto at least some of the feel of a fixed house. I mean, after all, this is America and bigger is always better. But big RV's, known as 'big rigs" in the RV'ing community, can really limit your mobility, spontaneity, and where you can and can't go. Ah!... compromises.

As we drive down the road we're close to 60 feet long, 8-1/2 feet wide (not counting mirrors, awnings, etc), over 12 feet high, and we weigh about 34,000 pounds... not as big as a regular fixed house but at times it feels like it. Whenever we have our car in tow we can't back up to escape from problems or make a U turn... we'd have to unhook the car, move the bus, and then re-hook the car. Because of the long wheelbase and the long rear overhang on the motorhome you've got to beware of sharp dips and inflections in the road surface that can easily cause you to drag your rear end or, worse, high-center the rig (picture a motorhome hung up and balanced in the middle so the front and rear wheels are off the ground). This is not the kind of vehicle to have if you want to, on a whim, head down narrow unpaved rustic roads, find out of the way forest service campgrounds high in the mountains, or venture very far off paved State and US highways.

Whenever we're looking for a place to camp that's more rustic or out of the way, we really do our homework... what are the roads like leading into the campground?.. any bridge clearance or weight restrictions?.. does the campground have length restrictions?  are the sites level?  do other big rigs use the campground?  But despite our best efforts at gathering the necessary information we've still run into problems with maneuvering around trees, tight turns, and untrimmed trees. We carry a collapsible tree trimmer on board and have often used it to clear the way to a campsite -- to hack our way in and then hack our way back out again. Budget constraints have strained the budgets of public campgrounds (Forest Service, National Parks, Corps of Engineers, State Parks) and we've learned that tree trimming is easily trimmed to save a few bucks.

But remember, it's all about compromise. While we often think the bus-house is too big... we also like the room we have. When two people are living in a small space like an RV, adequate room is very important. But we've also learned that other factors are even more important. We've developed a little adage over the years to explain what we've learned about this: If you and your mate crave travel and adventure, are tolerant, light-hearted, flexible, thoughtful, and can easily compromise, you'll be able to live quite well, perhaps even harmoniously, in spaces even smaller than the 300 sq. feet offered by the bus-house. But if even just one of you is high-maintenance, selfish, narcissistic, egotistic, unable to compromise, or is cool to the whole idea of travel and adventure... there's not an RV big enough for two people to find happiness.

We can't overstress the importance of having a compatible partner to have any chance of success in this lifestyle. Despite both of us being excited by and desiring this lifestyle, and both of us being pretty much "in sync" and tolerant and all that, we've still had a few problems along the way. But we've worked them out and learned from them.

[I guess we've learned more than I thought. The next post will be more things we've learned during the past three years.]
[Go To Part 1]
[Go To Part 3]

Thom & Dar

3 Years -- Part 1 -- The Decision

At the end of June this year we started our 4th year as fulltime RV explorers. I thought this might be a good time to reflect on our decision to start this lifestyle, to write a little about what we've learned, and see what the future may hold. This is Part 1 -- the Decision.

Thinking about our decision to become fulltimers I'm amazed now that we actually had the guts to go through with it. While we'd learned that there are probably hundreds of thousands of  fulltimers out there, it's still a lifestyle desired by a very small minority of people, and an even much smaller minority who actually go through with it. It would have been much easier to NOT do it. It would have been comfortable to remain in our steady and predictable suburban life. It would have been far less traumatic to keep the furniture and all the stuff that we accumulated over the years. We would probably be further ahead financially too, as our version of the lifestyle probably wouldn't be called cheap.

But the draw of the wandering lifestyle pushed us along. In large measure, we were driven by people close to us who contracted serious illnesses or who died young. The old adage that "you only go 'round once" applies here. We felt an urgency to get on with it.

We were also acquainted with some folks who were dancing to their own music... seemingly unaffected by convention and the way a life "should" be led... refusing to quietly surrender to a "normal" life as a cog in the machinery of a consumer driven society. These people showed us that it's OK to be a little crazy, to lead an unconventional lifestyle, to get back to the basics, to really think about what's important and what's not important, to "push the envelope"... to take charge and proactively live life to the extent you can.

So what were we really drawn to? I don't know... it's hard to explain.  Maybe experiencing things instead of just seeing them. We both love history, all kinds of history -- social history, natural history, the history of these United States -- and having the ability to set up house near historical sights for long enough to absorb it... to let it flow over you... to experience it for days instead of just making a quick vacation stop to see it... well, it was somehow a very compelling idea to both of us. Does that make sense? We also wanted to experience more of the natural wonders of North America, the National Parks, the forests, rivers, coastlines, mountains, and deserts. We wanted to drive the Alcan to Alaska and spend more time in Canada too. In general, getting away from congestion, getting closer to nature, and trying learn something along the way seemed to be the idea.

We were also drawn to the lifestyle in part to take the edge off Winter, which can get a bit tough up North for a couple months. I was only occasionally bothered by Northern Winters, but the flexibility of having wheels under your house makes it possible, maybe even desirable, to explore parts of the South while the North is still frozen up.

The whole process was lubricated by these circumstances: 1) our two kids were grown, through college, gainfully employed, and well on their way to developing their own lives, 2) I could take advantage of an early retirement option from the business I was working for, and 3) we had no family ties in the Chicago metro area (where our home was at the time) and neither Dar nor I had any desire to live there for the rest of our lives. So it became obvious that, with nothing tying us down, we could hit the road for a few years while we looked for that quiet uncrowded place we'd like to live next.

We attended the Life On Wheels conference in Ames Iowa for two consecutive years during the time our idea incubated. There we learned about the lifestyle, the gear, the ups and downs, the positives and negatives, and were able to talk with others who either had the desire to live the fulltiming lifestyle or were actually doing it already. Among the more important things we learned was that, for a couple,  it was critical that both people have the desire for the lifestyle... that you're both on the same page. If one is gung-ho and the other is ho-hum, you likely have problems down the road -- after all, you'll be living in a 10th of the space your previously had. The knowledge we gained and the insights we learned at Life On Wheels led us to believe we were good candidates for the lifestyle and eliminated a little of the fear of making the leap.

Eventually the process evolved to the point where there was no "going back". When we signed the order for the motorhome we hadn't yet sold the house -- the housing market was getting weaker every day and we very likely could have been saddled with both for some extended period. At the time I was developing contingencies... if we don't sell the house, where do we store the motorhome?... if we sell and close on the house before the motorhome is ready, where do we live? It was a stressful time, those early months of 2007.

But somehow we got through it. We endured. And things worked out almost perfectly... almost like it was planned... almost like it was pre-ordained. Over the years, when faced with big decisions, we tried to live by the motto "go with the flow". We've found it usually works pretty good.

We took delivery of the bus-house in May 2007 and closed the sale of the house on June 28th. From that day to now the bus-house has been our home. I'm still amazed we had the guts to do it.  And we both agree it's worked out pretty darned good... turns out it really is OK to be a little crazy.

[the next post, part 2, will be about things we've learned during the first three years.]
[Go To Part 2]

Thom & Dar