The Less Romantic Side Of RV Life

Just finished a 4 day road trip to Big Sur on the California coast, widely considered to be the most picturesque and scenic 100 miles on the Pacific Coast Highway. Not to mention the most dangerous. The road itself is carved into the side of a cliff, a never ending series of twisties and sweepers, in most places there are no guard rails, so I'm trying to watch where the hell I'm going as I'm going like hell, and trying to gawk at the view all at the same time. I'm coming back next year and spending a week just wandering up and down that 100 miles.

It's now evening and I'm back in Perris, which brings me to the part of RV life they don't tell you about in the brochures. The whole vehicle is self contained, it can generate it's own electricity, has a hot water tank, the fridge can run on propane, there's a propane stove and a 50 gallon fresh water tank. All of the systems must be maintained from time to time, especially the black water tank for the toilet and gray water tank for the sink and shower.

Once a week, under cover of darkness, I sneak my 11 foot tall, 32 foot long Ford Triton V10 powered motor home into an empty RV slot - they're for staff only and unavailable to the general public - to drain and flush the black and gray tanks, and refill the fresh water tank. This is the less romantic side of the RV life, playing with poo. I also plug into a post to get some electricity to recharge the house batteries that run and power various onboard systems. In the morning I rise early to sneak it back out again before anybody gets up for work. I don't know what the penalty is for stealing electricity or disposing of poo into a staff only "Poo Disposal Hole" are, but no doubt the consequences are dire.

Normally it goes off without a hitch. I wait until things have quietened down, and leaving the headlights off slowly creep into the ghetto, back into an empty slot, hook up the hoses, and begin the process.

I hadn't counted on the Canadian Army doing night jumps. I don't know who was more surprised, me encountering a crowd of heavily armed soldiers covered in glow sticks wearing night vision goggles, or them having a blacked out motor home looming out of the darkness and blundering around in their staging area. I didn't help matters any when I panicked and turned the headlights on. I'm just glad they weren't carrying live ammunition, they probably would have shot first and asked questions later. I may have to come up with a different poo disposal plan for the future.