THE FULL-TIMERS

Coming home after a few months on the road seems very luxurious. I can relax in a bubble bath, putter with flowers that the deer haven’t eaten in my absence, lie in a bed without climbing a ladder to reach it. I can sign up for a class, attend book club meetings, catch up on local politics. For a while, I want to stay home forever.

Soon, though, life seems boring. I long to see something new outside my window every morning, visit a park or museum I’ve never seen before, meet some new people having kindred interests. I want to get in the RV and go back on the road.

Lately we have cautiously been toying with the possibility of becoming full-timers. According to some Web sites, there are about a million people in the U.S. who are on the road nearly all the time, traveling from one campsite to another every few weeks or oftener. Could we manage it?

We met one retired couple who have been full-timing for the past ten years. After selling their large home, they bought a fairly large motorhome and added a small car as a “toad.” They established a permanent address in a state where there is no income tax, and where their daughter lives. They can visit—and leave—easily. A mail forwarding service takes care of sending mail to them when needed.

Like us, this couple cares deeply about state and national parks. They spend most of the year doing volunteer work in various parks, a few weeks at a time. (There is always a limit in the amount of time a volunteer can stay in one place; the campsite cannot become a permanent residence.)  This gives them free camping privileges and a very small allowance (necessary because food in the parks tends to be quite expensive). During periods when they are not volunteering, they stay in a variety of RV campgrounds and resorts. They seem very contented with their way of life.

The chance to do volunteer work of our choosing is one of the most appealing aspects of full-timing. As retired educators, we are in a position to be of some help with teaching or writing, but local opportunities are not always available or a good fit for us. If we were able to move around more, we could fairly easily find something we really want to do.

Gardening at home can be enjoyable, especially with native plants, but in a national park it could be even better; we could work with others to maintain a natural landscape for everyone’s enjoyment. I once saw a woman working at a Kentucky state park wearing a stylish gardening hat, lineny pants, and so on; she was the picture of a wealthy suburban matron gardening for pleasure. But there she was, happily digging in the dirt and helping contribute to the park’s garden rather than her own. As full-timers, we could do that also.

Long-term learning is important to both of us; we spend a great deal of time in the local library, and depend on it for books and magazines as well as occasional lectures and movies. That might be a problem if we were full-timing; perhaps we could get temporary library cards or invest in a mobile device for downloading books. Even in a large RV, though, we could not have the personal library we inevitably accumulate.

Speaking of books, perhaps the greatest sacrifice I would have to make is giving up my home office. For many years, I have been able to surround myself with the books and tools I need as a writer and editor. In finishing the final draft of a reference book a few years ago while we were traveling across the country, I found it extremely difficult to meet my deadlines. Even now, though I avoid making commitments to publishers, and do more blogging than any other writing, I can scarcely imagine not having a permanent office somewhere.

Some full-timers miss having wall space for displaying art and photos. We have already disposed of the large paintings that could be a problem, and we can look at our thousands of digital photos on a laptop computer. A small bulletin board holds some 3 x 5 photos and sketches.

Financially, the decision seems fairly easy. Even if we traded in our beloved View on a larger RV, which would probably be essential, we would spend no more as full-timers than we do now in a permanent home where we must pay property taxes, state income taxes, and many other expenses. If we remained in the West, we could find plenty of desirable campgrounds within a few hundred miles, and that would hold down the cost of gasoline. On longer trips, we could simply drive fewer miles each day.

Even emotionally—the greatest danger, perhaps—it seems like a good choice for us. We are not so involved in our local town that leaving it would be difficult, and we could always return to visit friends. We could become part of a larger “community beyond these walls,” as one church puts it. The park rangers, fellow RVers, and others we meet would make up much of our new community. There is also an extremely supportive community of RVers. The View-Navion site on Yahoo has helped us for the past few years with using our View, and we have met some of the members in person at rallies and on the road. If we have to get a larger rig, I will greatly miss that site! Many blogs about full-timing look appealing; one I have found good is http://wheelingit.wordpress.com. Joe and Vicky Kieva, who wrote a monthly column for the Good Sam magazine until they retired in 2012, are already well known to most RVers. Their blog is at http://rvknowhow.blogspot.com/. They must have taken retirement seriously, as they have not updated their posts, but the archived posts are still available.

I do have some qualms about the long-term outcome of full-timing, especially since neither of us has children to help us. If one of us becomes ill, will it be impossible to find medical care? What about assisted living when we can no longer drive? Until we learn more and feel more comfortable with the decision, it seems more sensible to maintain a home as a permanent residence. That can become very expensive, but if eventually we decide not to full-time, we will be grateful to have kept a home of bricks and mortar rather than one of fiberglass and metal.