Our Maiden Voyage

Things I learned while taking the Greyhawk to McKinney Falls State Park for our first overnight trip:

1.      RVs are very small

2.      Five heartbeats in an RV makes it seem even smaller

3.      Being in a very small RV with five heartbeats is more tiring than you’d think

We hopped out of bed Thursday like kids on Christmas morning and got to work on preparations.  Working as a team, I was in charge of arrangements for all things indoors and Dave was in charge of arrangements for all things outdoors.  He figured out we can store our brand new sewer hose in the rear bumper so it’s not in any compartment where we keep other gear.  At that moment I was very grateful to be in charge of the indoor arrangements.

Maiya checked out Belle’s crate while Belle stayed safely inside, sure we were prepping to take them all to the slaughterhouse.  That’s how Belle thinks.

And Brodie, afraid we might be crazy enough to leave him behind if we’re crazy enough to do this, climbed into his crate that I stuck a pillow in and steadfastly refused to move.

Maiya didn’t believe for one minute we would take them to the slaughterhouse.

After shuffling what we deemed to be must haves between the house and RV all morning, we were ready for the short 20 minute drive to the park.

Look at these relaxed naive faces!  This is a portrait of two people who have no idea what they’re getting into.  Bless their hearts. 

We’re here!

Dave pulled into slot 76 and quickly decided that a new item on our arrival checklist should be me getting out to spot while he parks since we narrowly missed hitting a tree by only a few inches because it was in a blind spot.  See?  We’re learning already.

I set up the new pen for the dogs and had them give it a test.  I got dirty looks from all three and tried to compensate by make my voice light and airy so they’d feel like everything is normal.  They weren’t fooled.

Even though it was a gray day we wanted to be outside and of course I couldn’t bring myself to sit in our comfy chairs in the great outdoors while the dogs were in the pen.  I asked Dave if we could all be together and of course he agreed because he’s wonderful and kind and gets me.  Now we’re all in the pen.  And this, friends, is what you’re looking for in a life partner.

To make this new adventure a little more fun and reassure Belle that no slaughterhouse trip is in the future, I tucked a few doggie treats in my jeans pocket and Brodie hopped on my lap and found them immediately.

Later it started to get much colder and looked like rain.  I tried to get Belle to smile for the camera but she was having none of these human led shenanigans.

For our inaugural dinner we had grilled bratwurst and beer (mmmm!) and I made a joke that since everything has to be washed by hand, this is the new definition of loading the dishwasher.

Dave just rolled his eyes.  I’m here all week!  Less than 24 hours in an RV and I’m already a tad loopy.  

Then we all went for an evening walk.

It was a long day of packing, driving, hooking up water and power, feeding dogs, feeding humans, and getting accustomed to our new temporary home.  We were all ready for bed early, especially since it started to rain.  Belle chose to sleep in her crate and I even put a blanket on the floor outside in case she decided to come out and join us but true to her personality, she decided to pout.

 

Because these dogs are house trained by using a dog door, I have no idea who needs to go outside when.  This is a tremendous advantage when you’re at home because they come and go as they please and there’s no need to let the dog out.  In an RV, this is a tremendous disadvantage because I have no idea who needs to go outside when.  Hmmm.  In order to avert an accident, we pulled up the water bowl after dinner and walked a few times before bed.

When all the canines finally found a comfy place to settle down, it was lights out.  At some point in the night I had this strange dream that Sammy Davis, Jr. was tap dancing in the RV and while I have nothing against tap dancing, Sammy Davis, Jr. is dead and an RV is not a good place for tap dancing.  The tap tap tapping kept going and when I finally woke up, Maiya was pacing around because she had to go outside.  I’ve read a lot of blogs about people who go RVing with pets and no one told me that dog nails on the floor will bring on dreams of Sammy Davis, Jr.

Dave and I both put on sweatshirts and shoes (we’re a team!) and took the dogs out for a walk.  Maiya was relieved (literally) and Belle and Brodie were ticked we woke them up.  It was 2:50am.  The campsite was sloppy and wet, paws got dirty and had to be cleaned, fur got damp and had to be dried and we knew right then we have to solve this problem without delay.  It took everyone quite some time to settle back down and now we’re brainstorming ideas to avoid future middle of the night walks.  

In the morning we groggily had coffee on the bed that we made by collapsing the dinette and let’s just say it was a tight squeeze.

Thank goodness Belle was still pouting in the crate or we wouldn’t have fit.

After breakfast we packed up camp chairs, grill and dog pen, and Dave read the instruction manual on how to empty the black water tank.  Important tip: always choose to be in charge of indoor arrangements. 

When we got home we replayed the entire packing process in reverse, taking food out of the fridge, bringing the coffee pot back inside, sweeping and cleaning, making sure everything is ready for next time.  One overnight stay and we were beat.  Dave and I weren’t the only ones who napped.

Once we had nachos and a cold beer at Chuy’s life seemed much better. This totally gets easier, right?  The dogs were glad to be home but they’re going out again March 3 for a four or five day adventure.  Don’t tell Belle.

The RV

Once you and your partner (and three dogs) decide to embark on a crazy adventure across the country in an RV, the next step is to acquire said RV.  Since Dave is a problem solving engineer, he’s naturally quite thorough in weighing all options, doing massive amounts of research and choosing the best possible outcome given any particular scenario.  And thank god for that because I, being the complete opposite, would probably buy a 1967 VW bus from an Austin hippie and our excursion would be disastrously short lived.

 

I learned a lot more about RVs than I ever anticipated and the first lesson was that we don’t want a fifth wheel (which I call a “hitchemon” because that’s way more fun and descriptive than fifth wheel).  That’s the trailer that’s towed behind a pickup truck and for one, we don’t own a pickup truck, but most importantly we have live animals coming along and you don’t want them back there with no AC or heat or ability to check and see if anyone is eating the sofa cushions.  That narrowed us down to a Class A or a Class C.

The Class A is humongous and luxurious and a bit intimidating and did I mention humongous?  Think Aerosmith’s tour bus.  Dave’s thought was that if we really are living it in for the better part of a year, wouldn’t it be good to just have everything we need right there?  My thought was, if you want me to take my turn behind the wheel I’m going to look up Aerosmith’s driver.  

So we climb in this mammoth vehicle for our test drive.  The front of the Class A is about five or six feet of pure windows with no hood so you’re looking right down at pavement.  I cleared my throat and took a deep breath.  Dave fires this bad boy up and the sales guy tells us to drive around the dealership in the neighborhood and get a feel for it.  It begins to move and I reflexively grab the arm rests like a kid grabbing the last chocolate donut.  The speed limit was only 45 on our route and Dave never once got over that, but he might as well have been driving 145 for the way it felt.

When we go see movies and they have that roller coaster point of view commercial to sell popcorn I always close my eyes because I can get motion sick right there in the theater.  This was the POV roller coaster from hell.  Each turn felt like we were going to flip ass over tea kettle and I was clenching every muscle from my jaws to my butt cheeks.  And we weren’t even on a freeway.

Back at the dealership, with little beads of sweat all across his forehead and residual white knuckles, Dave says to me lightly, “Would you like to take a turn?”  Three guesses, buddy.  He admitted later that the drive left him exhausted but he was sure he’d get used to it in no time.  I’m not sure I could say the same.

Next up was the Class C which is much more like a truck with a huge camper on it.  

After the Class A terror trip, this was downright tame!  The look of it when you’re riding is very much like a regular car so you’re in your comfort zone with gear shift, radio, side mirrors and most importantly, a hood.  You have no idea how much your brain comes to rely on certain benchmarks to make sure it’s not in danger and I learned that for me, the hood of a car is one.  Dave drove all around and then asked if I was game and I said, hell yeah!

I was nervous for sure but I just don’t think it’s realistic for us to go on such an extensive journey and have one person drive the entire time.  I need to carry my half of the weight so off we went.  I successfully navigated it up and down the highway and through neighborhoods without crushing any Mini Coopers or taking out any pedestrians and as far as I’m concerned, that means I passed the driving test.

As you may have guessed I lobbied hard for the Class C and Dave continued weighing pros and cons, size of storage cabinets, size of propane and water tanks, and other factors between the two – especially my comfort level so he isn’t the sole driver.  In the end, we chose the…..

Class C!  It’s a Jayco Grayhawk and it’s a beauty.

We’ve already started putting things inside like linens and kitchen items (my favorite part, not Dave’s) and we’re taking our first overnight trial run later this week in McKinney Falls State Park.  Just one night to see how things go, maybe discover something we need or don’t need and how the dogs are going to do.  We’re one step closer to starting something exciting and scary, funny and unknown.  Aerosmith can keep their tour bus.