Tag Archives: fifth wheels

State news, Uncategorized

Back home safe; no errors

park

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.

 

 

Uncategorized

Oh man, that's eatin'

This is the latest in an occasional series of blog posts commenting on impending retirement.

The late singer and talk-show host Mike Douglas once offered a piece of wisdom that has stuck with me in the decades since I heard him say it.

He asked a guest on his afternoon talk show: “Why is it that a hot dog tastes like a filet mignon when you’re eating it at a baseball game?”

Why, indeed?

Well, my wife and I have discovered on our brief excursions in our fifth wheel that we can ask essentially the same question about any meal we eat inside our recreational vehicle: Why does our breakfast taste like a gourmet meal prepared at the finest restaurant on the planet?

OK, so maybe I’m being a bit hyperbolic. So what? I hope you get the point.

We prepared breakfast at a campsite at Lake Tawakoni State Park east of Dallas and, by golly, it tasted like something that came straight from Paul Prudhomme’s kitchen in New Orleans.

What was it? Turkey bacon, scrambled eggs and cantaloupe.

Hey, we aren’t gourmet chefs, but we do enjoy the taste of a meal in our recreational vehicle.

I trust others who read this blog – particularly those who also like to travel in their RVs – can understand what I’m saying here.

I totally understood Mike Douglas’s question about hot dogs at the ballpark. I’ve consumed more than my share of ‘em while watching a ballgame. He’s totally right about how they taste well, um, different in that context than they do around the dining room table at home.

The same can be said about eating in an RV.

We haven’t done enough of it – yet – to become expert commentators on it.

Maybe we’ll tire of the food cooked on our propane-fired oven once we hit the road more frequently and for longer period of time.

But I doubt that will happen.

Uncategorized

A new world awaits

OK, my fellow travelers. You’re about to have some company on the open road.

My wife and I have recently joined the world of recreational vehicle owners. We purchased a 29-foot fifth wheel travel vehicle. It’s going to be hitched up to a new pickup we purchased. Very soon — we hope — we’re going to hit the road for some serious traveling.

I have some more good news. This past week we completed a three-night trial run with the fifth wheel. We didn’t go far with it. Just across town, to the east side of Amarillo, not far from the world-famous Big Texan Steak Ranch.

We hitched our fifth wheel to the back of our 3/4-ton pickup and drove it about eight miles to the other side of the city. We parked it in a space that included hookups for city water, electricity, cable television, and a place to dump our sewage.

We couldn’t ask for anything more.

So, we spent three nights getting acquainted with our fifth wheel. The first night was interesting, given that a fierce thunderstorm blew in over Amarillo. How did we fare during the storm? Beautifully, I’m happy to report. We had leveled our vehicle with front and rear jacks, plus a tripod stabilizer we installed under the fifth wheel hitch.

We spent two more days and nights there, visited with other travelers — those who actually were traveling — and laughed as we told them we were locals who drove across town to inaugurate our travel vehicle. “That’s smart of you to do that,” came the response.

Saturday morning, we woke up, cooked our breakfast and began the task of breaking camp. We had some help from one of the RV park managers who came over to watch us unhook the water lines, flush out our wastewater tanks, and button everything up. He left before we hooked the truck up with the fifth wheel. But hey, no problem. We got it done.

We drove back to our storage garage, unhooked truck from fifth wheel and went home quite satisfied with how much we learned. Yes, we still have questions, but now we’re able to ask them more intelligently.

With that, we’ve entered the world of semi-retirement. Neither of us is retired fully just yet. That day is approaching. But our venture into this new world of travel is the culmination of a discussion my wife and I have been having for, oh, about 25 years.

We’re ready to hit the road.