Real World, Road Rules
Unexpected Wisdom from RV Travel
The first time we emptied the septic tank, I almost cried.
Technically, my husband emptied it. I hovered nearby, useless and trying not to picture all the things that could go wrong. To me, RVs were dated boxes on wheels plastered in dark brown interiors, pleather cushions, and faux wood paneling. Most RV parks I’d seen appeared more like parking lots than places to unwind. No privacy, very little charm.
So when my then-boyfriend suggested we rent one for a week-long road trip through the Grand Teton National Park, I was skeptical at best. I wanted to be the type of person who could handle road life. But the truth was, part of me was still the little girl who refused to pee in gas stations.
But something changed in me while we rolled through Idaho, Montana, and Wyoming in our 2015 Coachmen Prism Mercedes Sprinter. What I thought would be a hilarious travel memory of “roughing it” turned out to be something far more surprising. It was a crash course in partnership and connection—lessons learned through the real challenges of travel and the absence of worldly distractions.
The One with the Surprise Storm
Our first evening in the RV was, surprisingly, a dream. We booked a well-reviewed campground, Bear Canyon, just outside town. It was close enough to civilization in case anything went terribly wrong, but remote enough to test the waters.
We practiced our RV 101 skills—backing into tight campsites, cooking a full meal over a single-burner stove, and securing every last item before hitting the road. Because, as we learned quickly, a loose water bottle becomes a missile of sorts around a sharp mountain curve. IYKYK.
The next morning, just as we rolled out of town, the sky turned an ominous shade of gray. Logically, my husband pulled over. Less logically, he hopped out and climbed on top of the RV.
“Are you nuts?” I shouted through the passenger seat window.
He smiled, mischievously, and yelled back, “Best seat in the house!”
After several minutes of back-and-forth banter, I let it go. This was one of our first big adventures as a couple, and I didn’t want to nag. Soon, I realized this man would challenge me in all the ways I secretly needed. I was the checklist queen; he had all the wild ideas. Together, we evened each other out.
What I came to understand about travel companions is this: you can’t only do it your way. And sometimes, their way is better.
The One With No Power
Organizing a road trip through national parks in the summer requires months of pre-planning, especially if you wish to visit certain campgrounds. Turns out, these book up months in advance. As a type-A traveler, I secured two prime spots within the Grand Teton National Park: Gros Ventre and Lizard Creek. What I hadn’t realized was that neither had any hookups. No electricity, no water, no dumping station. Naturally, our RV battery wasn’t charged, so we were settling in for our first evening without the necessities.
Disappointment set in quickly. “All I wanted was a hot shower,” I whined. Daniel, sensing my shift in mood, countered with “Why don’t you open a bottle of wine? I’ll start a fire and get dinner going.” I sighed, attempting to relinquish my anxiety about the night ahead.
With no neighbors at the campsite (wonder why?), we spent the evening chatting by the fire, pausing to listen to the crackling flames and sounds of nature. We dined on pork chops and roasted marshmallows until our bellies groaned. I’d feared going to bed frustrated, but instead, I woke up unexpectedly content. We’d survived the night and actually enjoyed ourselves.
Moments like this often reveal the unexpected magic of travel. No matter how much you plan, things will go awry. Sometimes the best memories are made when you stop resisting what’s out of your control and simply enjoy the journey together.
The One With the Goat
The next morning, we woke up buzzing with optimism. From the RV, we saw a giant moose, dozens of deer, and even some buffalo. Feeling energized by these encounters, we agreed over peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to hike the Jenny Lake loop. One of the most popular trails in the Tetons, we expected crowds all day. Within a few minutes, a baby doe walked ten feet in front of us. Brave, regal, and clearly unbothered. Daniel and I exchanged a look. This felt like a good sign.
The weather, however, could not make up its mind. Mid-June brought sunny days, afternoon showers, and cool evenings. As we climbed higher, rain rolled in like a scene change in a movie. We had almost reached the top of the hike, when Daniel suddenly stopped, his arm quickly grabbing mine. “Look,” he whispered while pointing up and to the right. A lone mountain goat, just standing there in the rain, like some mystical guardian of the mountain. Had Daniel not been paying attention, we easily would have missed it.
We stayed still for a while, holding hands, heads tilted back in awe. No dinner reservation, no timeline, no reason to rush. Just this moment.
This experience taught us to leave space for the day to surprise you. It’s a reminder I carry with me ever since. I’ll still book the can’t-miss excursion, but I leave some afternoons wide open, just in case the universe has other plans.
There’s a high-contrast black and white photo over our bed now, one I look at every day and admire. It’s a memory of those afternoon storms we chased, the slow dinners by an open fire, and the unexpected lessons that unraveled with each mile of our RV trip.
Maybe the most meaningful part wasn’t the wildlife sightings or incredible views, it was the stillness. No cell service, no social media, no distractions. We were cut off from everything except each other.
Turns out, there’s nothing more special than being off-grid with the right person.
We booked our RV through Outdoorsy, and as first-timers, the process couldn’t have been easier. The platform made it simple to find a vehicle that fit our needs, and the host walked us through everything we needed to know before hitting the road. We can’t wait for the next adventure!
The line about traveling with others and how sometimes their way is better… great line and thought!
You’re a great writer! Thank you for sharing your story.