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.