We got our first taste of winter in November when we spent the month on the Wisconsin State Fair grounds in Milwaukee. We rolled in (after an exciting blown-tire-on-our-dolly incident) late at night, so the head office was kind enough to leave our registration info taped to their front door.
Site C-5… AKA Home Sweet Home for the next 30 days
We left the hookups for the morning and collapsed into a heap of sleep. And to be clear, by “we” left the hookups for the morning,” I really mean Phillip, as I had a cast meeting at 10am in the beautiful Milwaukee theater, leaving my intrepid boyfriend to set up camp for us. > > >
We only had our rig for about two weeks before we had to face our first move. Usually, moving between cities on the tour that I’m on means a couple hours of packing all my crap into luggage and/or large tupperware bins and cramming it all into my Prius, Tetris-style.
Now, packing means going to my last show of the week while my amazing boyfriend readies our housecar for the road.
This (apparently) includes, but is not limited to: … > > >
How’s this for a sitcom set up: A guy is stuck in a Holiday Inn in New Hampshire for a few days waiting for his girlfriend’s RV to be fixed, and then driving for 15 hours (halfway across the country) to her….. all with her professorial father.
Who he doesn’t know very well.
Hilarious, if you ask me.
But that’s exactly how it went down. ((Read on!)) > > >
With two weeks of repairs facing us before we could live in our new (used) rig, we had a few options.
Option 1: Pass on this rig and find another one in another state. We didn’t like this option because, well… we liked this rig. And it was taken immaculate care of, and the price was right. So we passed on passing… > > >
When last we heard from our intrepid adventurers, they were on the precipice of buying a new (used) RV from a friendly New Hampshire salesman by the name of George.
We loved the layout (an open floor plan with two slide outs- one in the living room and one in the bedroom), loved the immaculate nature of the interior (the previous owners clearly loved this beast) but wasn’t crazy about the price. (Original asking price: $39,999. Ouch…) > > >
Shopping for an RV has been an interesting experience, to say the least.
First of all, the learning curve has been steep. Researching about all the ins and (slide)outs of the different rigs, figuring out what model will best fit our needs, and reading endless “Shopping for Used RV’s” tip pages has taken up most of my free time.
Turns out, shopping for an RV has all of the pitfalls of shopping for a car AND a home, all rolled into one. > > >
Usually, doubts about big decisions plague me. For example, buying my Prius four years ago was the longest, most drawn out process in the world…. for everyone around me. I talked to every family member and friend I could, going over every angle of every outcome possible to owning every other model of car when, in my heart of bleeding hearts, my environmental-studies-degree-bearing ass just knew that I wanted, no… needed the Prius.
Fast forward four years, and now I find myself contemplating a much bigger purchase of a housecar (or an RV, if you like) and I find the lack of doubt in the decision to purchase a gigantic car with a home glued to the top almost bizarre. The calm surrounding the decision that has taken me into the eye of the storm of used-RV shopping and loan applications is absolutely serene. I just know that this decision will, ultimately, simplify my life in so many ways.
Some of my peers, however, don’t share that view… > > >