Small But Not Too Small

Appendage on a Saguaro in our site at Lost Dutchman State Park

I'm a little behind in my posts.  We left Lost Dutchman State Park on Thursday, Jan. 31 and moved to a Days Inn in Mesa, AZ, where we stayed for three nights.  We enjoyed the relative luxuries of a king-sized mattress, a table and two chairs, and a private bathroom with a shower just a few steps away.  We splurged and ordered delivery pizza one night and Chinese another.  The dog appreciated the space, too, and slept stretched out on the bed to his maximum length. 

We made our first ever visits to rv dealerships--Mesa has tons of them.  On our first visit, we looked at travel trailers.  The saleswoman thought we were lunatics because we were agog at the amount of space in a twenty-two foot trailer.  (She was a full-timer living in a forty-plus-foot fifth wheel; we're currently in a thirteen-foot fiberglass egg trailer with no bathroom).  We were like, ooh, look, a bed we can both sleep in and a toilet that flushes! 

We looked at Snow Rivers, which are supposed to be built to handle rugged conditions.  I was impressed by their ground clearance but their interiors seemed flimsy to me--the materials covering the couches and chairs, and their cushion material seemed very cheap and made the furniture uncomfortable.  The decorative fake-wood pieces were also cheap and flimsy-seeming--plastic, I think.  The drawers had thin fake wood sticker tape that was supposed to cover the drawer edges--it was already peeling off and revealed the plywood underneath.   If something is not going to be real wood, I'd rather it just be honest and show itself as non-wood rather than try to pass itself by pretending to be something it's not.  If something's plastic, that's fine with me, but if so, I want it to be plastic and be proud.   

We also looked in a few fifth wheelers and Mike was impressed by relative spaciousness.  That, in combination with the news that fifth wheelers are much easier to tow, led him to the conclusion that this would be the best option for us.  

The next day we went out and looked at fifth wheels at another dealer.  We looked a few Arctic Foxes.  They have desirable features:  dual pane windows and insulated undercarriages, and they are supposed to be one of the higher quality brands construction-wise.  Again, though, the materials on the interior struck me as cheap and not very durable.  They're also out of our price-range new or nearly new.  That was a depressing combination:  too expensive and not high enough quality. 

We then looked at random used fifth wheels at a few dealers.  I was interested to see that the interiors of these older models generally seemed to be of higher quality--leather instead of vinyl, real wood instead of plastic or particle board, sinks and fixtures made of stainless steel instead of plastic, solid material instead of coated counters, glass for shower doors, and heavier-duty shower wall materials.  Nothing struck our fancy, though.  One thing I just could not get over:  how huge and excessive the fifth wheels seemed compared to our little Trillium.  At the same time, though, we want something we can live and work in, including during wet and cold weather, and that means certain things are desirable:  a table where we can sit across from one another, a bed that I can get into and make without straining myself, a dressing area that we can stand up in to get dressed, a shower that's large enough so  I don't bump the door or walls when I turn around and that has a shower head that reaches over Mike's head, a couch and a comfortable chair, and enough counter space to chop vegetables or set a bowl down on.  Those requirements alone put us in the 28 to 30 foot range.  Also, we want to boondock for more than a few days at a time.  And that means sizable storage tanks for fresh, black, and gray water, and propane.  Those tanks take up a lot of space.  And we want something we can mount our solar panels on.  So what at first seemed excessive to me is actually a pretty minimalist way to meet these needs. 

My health challenges also mean that we can't just stay in our little trailer, or move to a high top van or a truck with a camper top.  My joints can't stand the contortions needed to carry out daily activities in these spaces, even though my sensibilities and beliefs are that we should be minimalist. Mike also needs space where he can have conference calls and work without having the dog barking right in his face or me asking him to move his legs and computer so I can get in the fridge or out the door.  I also want to be able to move around, make the little noises that go along with the activities of living, and be able to read and write in relative quiet while he's on the phone. 

Mike's Office

Currently, he's either working in our trailer while sitting less than five feet from me, or in our canvas tent (where clients and his bosses can hear the walls flap with every breeze). 

We've also been shopping for a used pickup truck.  Here, too, there are issues we have to wrestle with.  Keep the car or sell it (we're leaning toward keep it), diesel or gas (we know diesel is more powerful for pulling but the noise and smell give me headaches so this is unresolved), two or four wheel drive (four wheel is much more desirable given that we'll likely be on rough roads occasionally and our home base is in the snowy land of Maine, but it's also much more expensive), how used to go (we're worried about all the things that could go wrong on a used vehicle with lots of mileage but we also don't want to spend a ton of money), and what kind of warranty we need (warranty for a used vehicle is good, but we'll be traveling and may not be anywhere near the dealership when things go wrong). 

So far, no purchases have been made.  But I've been spending my time online looking at rvs.  It feels like I haven't read a book in ages....I'll be soooo happy when this process is over.  Though if history is any guide, some other issue that involves complicated deliberations, tons of information, and lots of anxiety will just take its place.