The other day I received an e-mail from a couple my wife and I had met during a visit to Austin, Texas. They were in their middle 50s, and they had taken early retirement from a family business in Colorado, sold their home, and bought a recreational vehicle. They were touring the country nonstop, state by state, and they were having the time of their lives. "If anyone ever told me I'd give up a 2,400-square-foot town house for a 230-square-foot RV," the husband wrote, "I would have said they were crazy. Now, if you ask me if I'd ever go back to a stick house, the answer would be: never."
He has lots of company. Eight million American families own RVs, most of which are used to take the kids on weekend jaunts or for longer vacation trips to visit relatives or Disneyland. But a million of the rigs are driven by so-called full-timers like our friends. Whether they're 50-something Baby Boomers or 70-something Depression Babies, these houseless and jobless nomads of the open road share a lust for travel and adventure.
I've been there and done some of that. Along with my wife, Caryl, I spent a couple of weeks in a rental RV touring Yosemite and Yellowstone National Parks a few years back. The first thing we noticed was how friendly and helpful the full-timers were. Whenever we drove into an RV campsite, someone would come over to welcome us and someone else would invite us over for a drink. They were also very capable and upbeat, and I soon learned why.
An RV combines the attributes of a car and a house, which means that sooner or later something is going to need to be fixed. I'm not much good at fixing. In fact, I was constantly turning the wrong knobs or putting the wrong tubes in the wrong holes. Not only did the full-timers know how to handle repairs, they enjoyed doing it. The guys were never happier than when they were clustered around an open hood, diagnosing and prescribing for an ailing engine.
The charm of the RV is the freedom it gives you to lead a spontaneous life, moving wherever and whenever the mood strikes. Tired of cold weather? Drive south. Tired of suburbia? Head for the hills. Feel like some company after a few months on the road? Stop in at an RV camp site for a week, or call another full-timer family to arrange a rendezvous in a favorite resort area.
The challenge of the RV is the lack of space. It demands a degree of organization and neatness that Caryl and I simply don't possess. It also gives new meaning to the notion of togetherness: In these tight quarters, privacy is virtually nonexistent -- you're in each other's hair 24/7. Yet we met dozens of veteran RV-ers who were delighted with their cozy way of life.
Some of them were settled in at Rainbow's End, an RV camp in the piney woods of East Texas. Full-timers tend to traverse a bittersweet life cycle -- gung-ho for the road when they start out, spending more and more time parked at favorite sites as they age, and finally settling in at camp sites or selling their rigs when their traveling days are done. Rainbow's End is also the headquarters of the Escapees, one of several national organizations that bind RV-ers together. The clubs organize social gatherings in different parts of the country, provide a mail delivery service, publish a magazine, and maintain a Web site loaded with practical advice.
For the folks at Rainbow's End, the RV had been a magic carpet to a new world of promise and fulfillment. That was surely the case for our full-timer friends from Colorado.
"Summer is coming to an end," their e-mail began. "The fireweed has bloomed to the top of the stem, which is supposed to mean that in six weeks or less this sub-Arctic land will be covered with snow." The letter went on to describe their weeks in Alaska and their plan to head south, stopping in Oregon on their way toward California sunshine. It ended: "The summer has been great, we are healthy, and once again realize how fortunate we are and how true it is that Life is Good!"
I wonder how many of you out there have had experiences that left you with that same feeling -- in or out of an RV.
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Robert W. Stock, a New York Times alumnus, is a writer and editor based in New York.
Life over 50 gets better and better! Find out how at the Living at Its Best! group, presented by AARP. Click here to join the discussion group.
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Comments: 4
I think the biggest one is where to park and how to live. I doubt anyone can just pull over anywhere, otherwise their might be millions of senior citizens outside the White House shining their headlights into the curtains when our president talks about gutting social security. I picture pulling over after a long days driving, sitting down to have a nice cocktail, and hearing knock-knock on my door to find a police giving me a ticket.
If you guzzle really fast can inebriation be an excuse for remaining where you are so as not to drink and drive?
Seriously, and then water, electrical, sewage hookup ... does it keep you only in certain areas. What do you do if you wanted to visit New York City.
Another thing .... how safe are you in one of those things. Has anyone ever gotten robbed or broken into. What if you want a night on the town ... can you park it around the corner from the opera house, or the stadium?
Finally ... what is some lousy driver smashes into your house on wheels? Where do you live while it is being fixed ... and can they be fixed?
As the proud owner of an Airstream Land Yacht I want to thank you for this fine article. I'd suggest that anyone that has thought of traveling in a motorhome must. This country is wonder full and the best way to see it is by traveling Eisenhower's highways.
By the time you get to the West Coast you might even decide to cross the border into Mexico which we hope to do in March.
If the stars align, our friend Rich, the publisher of Airstream Life magazine, and his wife and daughter will be leading the way. Rich's family has been living full time in their Airstream and touring America and meeting all types of folks. Throughout their journey they have learned a lot, taught me a lot and met great people.
One of the first lessons I learned about rving is how easy it is. The systems are the same or similar to a boat, driving is easy, and compared to heating a home, and all the costs of upkeep living on the road full time is very cost effective.
The opportunity to hike and bike and swim and sight see in incomparable.
Great article, thanks
I'd suggest that anyone that has thought of traveling in a motorhome must. This country is wonder full and the best way to see it is by traveling Eisenhower's highways.
By the time you get to the West Coast you might even decide to cross the border into Mexico which we hope to do in March.
But when I lay awake at night thinking about it all, I have decided that I'd prefer to drive in my Saturn Vue and stop at the Holiday Inn each night. Maybe I'm lazy, but having to cook, clean, do my record keeping, etc. all in such confinement just seems like tooo much work.
Retirement is a few years away and I have time to decide later. Maybe I could give it a try in my driveway, for a night or two? NAH!