Imagine setting up camp and finding Sharon Van Etten singing in the forest behind you. Lovely.
We’re the only truck camper at our RV Park. Surprisingly, we’re not the smallest living space. One of the neighbors a few slots down the road is a van!
Why does being a truck camper matter? Because some RV Parks think it should, and that being anything other than a trailer or fifth wheel is somehow not a legitimate platform for full-time living.
We were lucky to be accepted by this RV Park during the winter season because it’s been full here since the day we moved in. This seems to be the case for several RV Parks in the area. They’re filling up!
An unfortunate side effect is that RV Park managers can now be more picky about who they allow in without hurting their business. The lesson here is that although truck campers can go many places that “normal” RVs can’t, the RV Park might be the one place where those with truck campers are at a disadvantage.
I asked one RV Park why they didn’t allow truck campers and the response I received was that we didn’t fit into the goal of the park because we are a “camper.” It still makes no sense to me, but if someone has a good explanation, please do share!
We’ve just completed our second month in the RV Park. It’s been a challenging experience so far, mostly because living in a truck camper requires constant organization and movement of “stuff” to accomplish whatever it is we’re trying to do. Cooking, eating, feeding dogs, washing dishes, washing hands, brushing teeth… almost any activity requires the shuffling of people, dogs, and stuff. The truth is, this camper feels more appropriate as a single-person living space, but we make it work.
Thankfully, spring is here.
Warmer weather means that propane cylinders no longer need refilling every three days. Running the electric heater has helped to conserve propane to the point where we may not need to refill for weeks. We’ve yet to find out how long a full 20-lb propane cylinder will last if we’re not running the furnace.
Spring brings seemingly endless rain to the Pacific Northwest. Sometimes I love the rain for making a most soothing sound as it falls on the camper roof. Sometimes I hate it, frustrated from being constantly wet, having wet dogs shaking wet stinky hair everywhere…
It’s not worth complaining about. This is a beautiful place. Paradise eventually stops being paradise when we are faced with it everyday. I’d rather keep the bad times to provide context to this experience than suffer going blind to unchanging beauty.