jklbus01
Advanced Member
The first thing I’d like to say about moving from a tent to a recreational vehicle is to start where you are. Just get out there and enjoy the environment so many of us desire to protect.
The RV community is, in some ways, like our Toastmasters club. We meet up with the same group of people, generally, and we get to know other RVers. We belong to a couple of clubs that have meetings with other, like-minded people. And the atmosphere is always friendly and upbeat.
One of the most telling aspects of the RV community is the complete lack of judgement. Many times, we looked like the “poor white trash RV people” because of the condition of our very first RV, Gertrude. Yet, when I’d admit to my shame and embarrassment, everyone had a similar response: "It doesn’t matter how you get out here, as long as you get out here!” and “Start where you are!”
As time went on, I came to believe that myself. At some gatherings, friends brought tents (some of which fit on top of their small sedan!) Some brought camping trailers, and some brought apartment buildings—I mean, 5th wheels. Then there were those of us who drove our RV.
We went from being tent campers and, of course, using blue tarps because we live in Washington to owning a drivable RV.
Now drivable RVs come in three classes; Class B is a camper-capable van, like a Dodge Sprinter. Some are Class C’s, like Gertrude was, with the bunk over the cab. And finally, like our new RV, Windy, there are class A’s that resemble, and can actually be, a bus or a semi.
And of course, in RVing, size matters. That is it matters when you’re driving. Specifically, when driving your RV, not towing, again, size matters. But my experiences have all been with drivable RVs. That’s mostly because I’m terrified of trying to back up a trailer.
Driving our Class C, which was 28 feet long, felt much like driving a truck. It was easy to go forward, made both left and right turns fairly easily and took some time to learn to back up, both with and without help.
Driving our Class A at 36 feet is like driving a city block. The windshield begins at my left shoulder and continues all the way across to the other side, that I have to stand up and walk over to reach. My wife and I used to factor in being able to hold hands when buying a vehicle. In Windy, be wave and blow kisses. And it is not like driving a truck. It’s more like flying.
To begin with, there’s no hood in front of you, so you see everything. In every car and truck and even RV I’ve ever driven, everything I’ve ever driven had a hood. Having no hood is pretty freaky from 10 feet in the air.
On the one hand, we say, “start where you are.” On the other hand, it’s a lot easier to pitch a tent.
Before I end this, let me leave you with two pieces of advice. First, when you become an RVer, don’t go buying every gadget you see. I did that. From Christmas ornaments to sewage hoses, I bought it all. When we donated Gertrude to the Veterans, we learned how much of it we didn’t really need.
And finally, become an avid YouTube for RVs watcher. I jokingly say I learned how to do everything I did on Gertrude from watching YouTube, including how to drive. That, by the way, is true!
And being married to an Accountant, we track our spending.
In the 4 years we had her, I put $20,000 in repairs into Gertrude, $11,000 of which was me watching and learning to do the repairs. Today, I’m enrolled in RV Tech School. Where we go, that’s where we’ll be, shingle out front, meeting and helping other RVers. That’s coming full circle.
The RV community is, in some ways, like our Toastmasters club. We meet up with the same group of people, generally, and we get to know other RVers. We belong to a couple of clubs that have meetings with other, like-minded people. And the atmosphere is always friendly and upbeat.
One of the most telling aspects of the RV community is the complete lack of judgement. Many times, we looked like the “poor white trash RV people” because of the condition of our very first RV, Gertrude. Yet, when I’d admit to my shame and embarrassment, everyone had a similar response: "It doesn’t matter how you get out here, as long as you get out here!” and “Start where you are!”
As time went on, I came to believe that myself. At some gatherings, friends brought tents (some of which fit on top of their small sedan!) Some brought camping trailers, and some brought apartment buildings—I mean, 5th wheels. Then there were those of us who drove our RV.
We went from being tent campers and, of course, using blue tarps because we live in Washington to owning a drivable RV.
Now drivable RVs come in three classes; Class B is a camper-capable van, like a Dodge Sprinter. Some are Class C’s, like Gertrude was, with the bunk over the cab. And finally, like our new RV, Windy, there are class A’s that resemble, and can actually be, a bus or a semi.
And of course, in RVing, size matters. That is it matters when you’re driving. Specifically, when driving your RV, not towing, again, size matters. But my experiences have all been with drivable RVs. That’s mostly because I’m terrified of trying to back up a trailer.
Driving our Class C, which was 28 feet long, felt much like driving a truck. It was easy to go forward, made both left and right turns fairly easily and took some time to learn to back up, both with and without help.
Driving our Class A at 36 feet is like driving a city block. The windshield begins at my left shoulder and continues all the way across to the other side, that I have to stand up and walk over to reach. My wife and I used to factor in being able to hold hands when buying a vehicle. In Windy, be wave and blow kisses. And it is not like driving a truck. It’s more like flying.
To begin with, there’s no hood in front of you, so you see everything. In every car and truck and even RV I’ve ever driven, everything I’ve ever driven had a hood. Having no hood is pretty freaky from 10 feet in the air.
On the one hand, we say, “start where you are.” On the other hand, it’s a lot easier to pitch a tent.
Before I end this, let me leave you with two pieces of advice. First, when you become an RVer, don’t go buying every gadget you see. I did that. From Christmas ornaments to sewage hoses, I bought it all. When we donated Gertrude to the Veterans, we learned how much of it we didn’t really need.
And finally, become an avid YouTube for RVs watcher. I jokingly say I learned how to do everything I did on Gertrude from watching YouTube, including how to drive. That, by the way, is true!
And being married to an Accountant, we track our spending.
In the 4 years we had her, I put $20,000 in repairs into Gertrude, $11,000 of which was me watching and learning to do the repairs. Today, I’m enrolled in RV Tech School. Where we go, that’s where we’ll be, shingle out front, meeting and helping other RVers. That’s coming full circle.