When is an RV more than an RV? Over the years, I have concluded that the answer is this: Constantly.
It is a home, a comfort, a means of transit, a safe haven, a movie screen playing an ever-changing American reel. At times it is a source of a pride, a symbol of adventure, a conversation starter, a plot device, an inspiration.
But I have also found it to be… a measuring stick. And I mean that almost literally.
Along a crowded city street or in a suburban neighborhood, a big RV can feel… large. For some reason, a house on wheels conveys an outsized vibe when it’s parked next to an actual house. But next to a massive natural marvel, an RV can seem small. More important, it can be a means of truly appreciating the scope of the wonder you’re visiting.
I have photos of a 30-something foot RV in front of Utah’s grand sandstone arches and amid New Mexico’s sprawling White Sands and alongside South Dakota’s far-reaching Badlands and in the foreground of Montana’s snow-capped peaks. Always, it generates an appreciation for comparative size. And it makes for a great picture.
So here’s another installment of Road Royalty – the RV in Redwood National Park.
Travels With Charley, John Steinbeck’s classic travel memoir in which he named his house on wheels Rocinante, was published 50 years ago. One of my favorite Steinbeck lines about travel is this: "A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it"
Being happily married for nearly two decades, I understand the sentiment. But I actually think the statement doesn’t apply too well to RVing. You’re actually more in control in an RV – you travel on your own terms.
With that in mind, I’ve collected some other grin-inducing travel quotes that – for reasons that will be obvious – DO NOT apply to the RV experience. Seriously, they just wouldn’t happen in a house on wheels. Here are a half-dozen of them:
“Most travel is best of all in the anticipation or the remembering; the reality has more to do with losing your luggage.” – Regina Nadelson
“When setting out on a photographic holiday, always provide yourself with two cameras, one to leave in the train going and the other to leave in the cab coming back.” – W.C. Sellar & R.J. Yeatman
“A tourist is a fellow who drives thousands of miles so he can be photographed standing in front of his car.” – Emile Ganest
“I feel about airplanes the way I feel about diets. It seems to me that they are wonderful things for other people to go on.” – Jean Kerr
“Travel is only glamorous in retrospect.” – Paul Theroux
“You got to be careful if you don’t know where you’re going, because you might not get there.” – Yogi Berra
Don’t believe a word they say. Except maybe Yogi, who admitted, “I never said most of the things I said.”
Here’s a photo of our RV with a guy whose words you could trust…
About a month ago, we got a dog. Those who know me well are rather shocked. It was pretty much the last thing I said I’d ever do.
I’ve never been a pet person. Never had one, with the exception of a few goldfish that didn’t last long. Never really wanted one. I prefer life to be uncomplicated, serene, quiet. Control your own destiny – that’s one of the three tenets of my life philosophy (along with sleep late and shave once a week). Can you really do that when you’re following an animal around with a plastic bag?
Actually, I was hoping for a four-legged addition to our house this holiday season – a new coffee table. But a dog? It was unlikely.
However, I was outnumbered. My kids and my wife desperately wanted a little mutt to add to the family. So I caved… er, agreed. And we got an ADORABLE little puppy – a cockapoo (part cocker spaniel, part miniature poodle). We named him Pippin (big “Lord of the Rings” fans in this family). And I have to admit, I’m smitten. In fact, I’m the one who’s shocked – at how quickly I’ve come around.
And you know what helped convince me? RVers with dogs. Last summer I noticed – more than ever – how many road-trippers pack a pooch along with their golf clubs or fishing gear or lawn chairs. It has helped me to understand that the companionship would far outweigh the complaints. It could be that a dog even makes the ultimate road trip that much more… ultimate.
Granted, I’m not sure I would enjoy a highway excursion in a car with a cocker spaniel. Or in a truck with a terrier. Or even a mutt in a minivan. But I’m pretty sure I could handle it in a spacious house on wheels.
I mean, if these people (whom we came across in Idaho) can do it with Marmaduke…
