This is the latest in an occasional series of blog posts commenting on upcoming retirement.
I am happy to report that my wife and are now measuring — partially at least — the success of our fifth wheel trips by the absence of rookie errors.
We’re still fairly new in this RV traveling experience, but we’re finding it easier as we undergo the growing pains associated with this new lifestyle.
We have just concluded an eight-day jaunt through much of north and central Texas. We spent Christmas evening with our son, daughter-in-law and grandkids in Allen; and, oh yeah, we had those hideous tornadoes to contend with the next night.
We got through it all, had a wonderful time, saw “Star Wars” with our son, played with our granddaughter who’s starting to refer to us as something that sounds vaguely like “Ma-Maw” and “Pa-Paw.”
But, hey, Emma is not yet 3, so that’ll likely change. We’ll settle on whatever she wants to call us . . . just as long as she calls, you know?
Then it was off to San Marcos, which is roughly halfway between San Antonio and Austin, where we visited with one of our nieces, her husband, their two daughters and my wife’s brother, all of whom live in or right near Austin.
After three nights there, we headed toward home and spent another night at San Angelo State Park. We cooled our jets, got a good night’s sleep and rolled onto the Texas Tundra, where we discovered someone had plowed the snow off our street — and into a large pile right in front of our home.
We’re learning out way through this RV business. It’s getting easier each time out, although we’ve learned not to take anything for granted.
I’m not sure when we’ll become experts at it. Frankly, I like being forced to think about ensuring we don’t cut corners too tightly, or making sure we put the wastewater cap back before we shove off.
But we’ve already begun thinking about the next excursion.
And, of course, the next big adventure.