We’re about halfway done pulling our RV back to our winter home in Central Texas and, at times, that reality gives me pause. It happened today at an Interstate rest stop in Illinois.
Upon returning to the truck, I let Leah into her seat and then circled back to eyeball the RV as I headed to my side. As I walked by the RV – all folded in and compact-looking – I thought, “This is our home, all of it, right in this little box.”
We’re in our fifth year of living fulltime in a 31-foot fifth-wheel RV. Earlier today, Leah commented that she’s continually seeing that we need even less “stuff” in our lives. It’s something we spent years working toward.
But I’m not really talking so much about minimalism here as life on the road.
Toward the end of our drive today, we encountered a traffic backup of more than a mile. After gradually working our way to the source of the problem, we found one of those nice, big motor homes with a blown out front tire. A massive tow truck was hooking up to it because the front end was rather torn up.
We can imagine the feeling. Most everything you own is riding in that RV and now it’s being towed to a shop. Your food is going to the storage yard. Your bed is being locked up. All because of a blown tire.
That being said … we still love it and don’t see an end to it anytime soon.
However, it’s certainly not for everybody. What we do would drive a lot of people crazy. Some folks think we’re crazy.
And maybe that has some little something to do with why we like it.