When you travel as much as we do, you tend to have some pretty great stories to tell. Like that time we borrowed an RV that looked like a roving meth lab. And then we thought it was going to poison us. And then it rained. The most low budget of vacations can also be the best of times if you have the right attitude.

It was a couple of years ago when we borrowed a relative’s RV to go on a “fun” family trip to Hershey Park. We were so excited to embark on our first ever RV trip (a life-long dream of mine, no, I’m not joking) that we were able to appreciate the ‘retro’ 1980s vibe of our hotel on wheels.  Excited to take the kids to two of our favorite amusement parks, and be right in the action (ie the attached campgrounds). Excited to hit the open road, not a care in the world.

Picture it…A mom and a dad, one of which is a confident driver. Two little kids, one of which is still young enough to be strapped into the luxury Britax carseat favored by overprotective parents. A 28 foot, 1983 Class B Coachmen motorhome with blue shag carpeting, paint faded corrugated metal siding, and no air conditioning, borrowed, sight unseen. A family with zero experience with RVing, and none with camping either, for that matter.  A well-meaning relative willing to lend out his motorhome, but not before describing, in heavy detail, every mechanical detail and all catastrophic possibilities.

One of the over-described details was that of the beeping alarm that will sound if there is a gas leak (this is called foreshadowing). But what are the chances of that actually happening to us on our first ever RV roadtrip adventure? We start the journey, manage to overcome the scary feeling of driving a huge 28 foot vehicle for the first time, the little one falls asleep in her comfy carseat (yes, they had seatbelts in 1983), and we are on the way to some family fun.  And then, about an hour into our ride…beep….beep…beep…

Me: “I think that’s the gas leak alarm”

Husband (who is driving) : “No, it’s fine. Go back there and push the reset button”

10 minutes later…beep…beep…beep

Me : “I think that’s the gas leak alarm”

Husband : “No, it’s fine. Go back there and push the reset button”

10 minutes later…beep….beep….beep

Me : “I think I smell gas, we need to do something!”

Husband : “No, I’m sure it’s just a false alarm”

Me (the one with the better sense of smell in the relationship) : “No really, I think I smell gas. Let’s pull over”

Husband : “No, I’m sure it’s fine”

I’m not taking his word for it, so I go to check on the kids (who are in the seats pretty much right behind me). They seem fine but I still feel like I’m smelling gas. Maybe it’s just in my head. Maybe I’m being paranoid. I mean, it could totally just be the power of suggestion.  That happens all the time, right? You think you hear, see or smell something, and then your brain does some fancy neurochemical mind/body connection thing and it just kind of comes true. I’m being overprotective, right?. I bought a $300 carseat, for Godssake. And then…..

Husband : “I have to pull over, I can’t see, I think I’m losing feeling in my hands, I’m going to pass out!”

And meanwhile, I (the one who actually smelled the gas) feel totally fine. Can I take over driving this 28 foot monster and get us to safety? Heck no…pull over! We find a safe spot to pull over (in the parking lot of a school), and we all jump out of the RV. My husband promptly lays, spread eagle, in the grass. I’m not going to say “I told you so” but that gas-leak alarm probably meant there was gas leak. Captain Obvious to the rescue. The kids and I are totally fine. One among us must be very susceptible to gas (or the power of suggestion…note to self…try hypnosis on husband).

He turns off the gas & we make it safely to the Knoebels campround.  Where he has to then parallel park the 28 foot RV. Literally…parallel park.  Now, I have a tendency to break out in hives if I have to parallel park anything bigger than a Mini Cooper. Thank God he is the good driver and has to be the one to try this, while I get to direct him from the safety of the dirt road next to the parking space (aka campsite). After about 400 twists and turns and a good 30 minutes, the RV is snuggled in to its spot, right between two very nice, new and shiny motorhomes. Yes, we are officially “those people” in the campground.

Now, I don’t want to gross you out if you are unfamiliar with RV mechanics, so I will try to put this nicely.  There is a toilet in the RV.  There are water tanks.  One is clean and one is not. Most modern campgrounds will have these tube thingies that connect to something (I let my husband handle these types of details because I’m smart) and that’s easy. Just like in your house, things go in, things come out, things get flushed and taken away somewhere. Well, not in this campground. This one doesn’t have the high-tech tube thingies.  This one has a “dumping station” that you have to drive to in order to rid yourself of your dirty water.

As soon as we finish the parallel parking olympics, we somehow realize that our dirty tank had not previously been emptied…we need to drive over to the dumping station. And, you got it, go through the parallel parking debacle again. At this point, it is over 100 degrees (no joke, it was a heat wave in August), and we have no air conditioning. We also know that we need to get the gas tank taken care of or there will be no cooking either.  We call a repairman who comes to the RV park (yes, these people actually exist…who knew?). He tells us we have to stay out of the RV while he is doing the repairs because, well, it’s a gas leak situation. Then it starts raining….

Luckily the people next to us hadn’t been watching Breaking Bad, or at least hadn’t seen the BB meth lab that looked much like our RV, and they invited us to sit under their awning while the rain poured down and the repairman worked his magic.  A few hundred bucks later, we were repaired and ready to continue our camping adventure.

Yep, you saw that right.  After all of that, we ended up having so much fun that we borrowed the RV again and took it to Hershey Park. The moral of this story is that we can sometimes be really low budget travelers. We can also be somewhat crazy. The real moral is that travel does not have to be fancy five star to be fun and meaningful. In fact, it can often be more valuable when it’s not. I get caught up in the miles & points world, and I sometimes need to take a step back and remind myself about what is really important. We stepped out of our comfort zones and made some long-lasting memories. The kids remember those trips more than they do some others where we stayed in luxury hotels. Our next RV adventure is soon approaching. This time we are renting a straight from the factory, brand-spanking-new motorhome. Fingers crossed.

What is the craziest thing that ever happened to you on vacation?

Have you ever been RVing?

Did you watch Breaking Bad?

Do you like low-budget or luxury travel (or both)?

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