If you’ve ever dreamed of living the van life or the nomadic lifestyle—but thought, “I need way more space, more storage, and definitely a bathroom that doesn’t require you to do yoga to get in and out of it” — then owning a motorhome might be your ticket to the ultimate road trip life. Specifically, let
’s talk about the joys, shenanigans, and heartbreaks of traveling in a vintage (and by “vintage,” I mean ‘old enough to have witnessed the birth of Wi-Fi’) 34-foot motorhome. Yes, folks, this motorhome lifestyle is about to take family vacations to a whole new level, in the most hilarious and adventurous ways possible. Are you and your family dreaming about purchasing an RV to explore the highways of America? Don’t even consider it without these motorhome travel tips!
The “Adventure” of Owning a 34-Foot Rig
Let’s start with the obvious: buying a motorhome means you’ve embraced a new reality. Every vacation is an expedition that might involve minor repairs and a few (Thousand) expletives. You will definitely need an emergency kit that’s way larger than you thought it’d need to be.
I’ll be the first to tell you that, yes, it is incredibly beautiful to travel cross-country in a massive rolling RV with your family, your smelly pets, and your hopes and dreams of a smooth, peaceful journey. There’s something magical about pulling into a campsite surrounded by a forest of pine trees, sipping Baileys and coffee while watching an afternoon thunderstorm. Bonus: You know your bed is only five feet away in the back. It’s perfect.

…Until it’s not.
Motorhome shenanigans are just part of the charm. Like, oh, say the water pump breaking on Day 3 of your 14-day trip. It’s always at the worst possible moment, naturally, like when you’re trying to make coffee because nothing says “I’m ready for today’s adventure” like waking up to no caffeine.
Or how about the time you forgot to set the parking brake, and you’re sitting at a picturesque dump station, only to realize your motorhome is rolling away from you like a runaway train? Don’t worry, it’s totally fine.

The family adventure dog is just running alongside, barking to let you know that your beloved 34-foot mobile home is making a break for freedom. These are the family memories you will never forget.
But wait, it gets better! Picture this: you’re finally relaxing during happy hour, drinking your crisp and cold white wine because this trip is about living your best life, and the next thing you know, you’re experiencing what can only be described as the black tank apocalypse. Yes, the entire black tank backs up, floods the RV, and you’re dealing with a situation that is, in no uncertain terms, not cute. And just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, the dog runs through everything and jumps on the couch.
It’s at moments like these when you’ll wonder why you even considered trading your sensible sedan for a giant rolling home of broken dreams. But then you wake up to a sunrise like this somewhere in Montana and realize the great outdoors is your backyard for the entire summer.
The exciting and terrifying world of motorhome adventures.
Eight years ago, when we entered the exciting world of motor-homing, we had no idea what we were getting into. We had this trip to Yellowstone planned. Our family had looked into borrowing a friend’s falling-apart apart extremely vintage motorhome or possibly renting a motorhome. We decided to just purchase an older motorhome, cross our fingers and hit the highways of America! If it didn’t work out, we would sell it after the Yellowstone trip. But then we fell in love. With outdoor adventures? With this beautiful country we live in? No, with a 1999 Fleetwood motorhome named Stormy.
It started with that first RV cross-country travel vacation we had planned. I literally caused unneeded vacation stress on day one, when I booked the wrong night for the campsite in Arizona. We showed up a day early and the elderly camp host was extremely rude and grouchy to us. That was right before our elderly dog took a shit all over the parking area. (Which I cleaned up at once while apologizing profusely) Obviously, they would not let us villagers fill up on water even though I had paid for the campsite for the next night. Looking back now, as a seasoned RVer, I would not have put up with this literal horse shit. I paid for a campsite, I should have taken my 80 gallons of water, and moved on with our vacation. Thanks to Grumpy Old Camp Host Joe Biden (“Get off my dump station!”) our whole family were smelly campers in the Arizona summer heat for two whole days.
During our first few days as RVer’s, we definitely were very smelly campers. But we were thrilled to be out and about on the backroads of America. Until we woke up the next morning and my boyfriend, the driver of our coach, was extremely ill. But we still decided to leave the buffalo-studded meadows and gorgeous sunsets at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon and head towards Lake Powell, even though my boyfriend’s 82-year-old mother was extremely upset about being smelly like we had just come from India. (She is from Bombay, so she knows!)
As we awoke in Arizona and drove to Lake Powell to dump the tanks before camping along the shores of Lake Powell, my boyfriend just happened to have the flu from hell. He had thrown the motorhome in park and run for the restroom at the dump station. Ironically, I was standing outside trying to assess if we were in the correct spot and I noticed the motorhome was rolling backwards towards me down the hill. I screamed like a motherf***** I’m not kidding. There’s no other way to explain that feeling as a 34-ft motorhome is rolling backwards towards you with no driver in the driver’s seat. I don’t know how he pulled up his pants and squeezed his sphincter and ran from the RV restroom. He somehow put on the emergency brake. And did I almost shit myself as I saw our new vacation vehicle heading towards a watery Lake Powell grave? I’m not saying no… But here we are ten years later and our Fleetwood motorhome is still here and not in a ditch in Utah.
So that happened and then our support towing system for our Suzuki tow car came unattached somewhere in the middle of BFE Arizona, basically, the Toad went walkabout. Imagine towing a tow car (A Toad) with your 34-ft motorhome and all a sudden your tow car is no longer attached. What the actual fuck? This was all in one morning of new motorhome ownership!
Then the trifecta of the whole situation was when we finally, finally pulled into the beautiful Colorado town of Rosemead. I was driving the Toad separately due to the towing situation and the serpentine belt broke on the Toad! We lost the power steering. We had been on our way to AutoZone to buy a pin to fix the whole towing system. All of a sudden, I had no power steering. The motorhome Gods must have been looking out for us because this could have happened in the mountains near Telluride on winding mountain roads with sheer drop-offs. I could have had no cell phone reception, and possibly no life! We were so blessed to have this happen in the amazing town of Rosemead, Colorado, where I just happened to literally push the Toad into the first auto shop we came into. The mechanic offered to fix it on his lunch break!
On that first cross-country four-week road trip, we had more adventures than most people have in a lifetime of motorhome ownership! All these crazy stories don’t really have to do with us being newbie motorhome owners; Shit just happens when you travel cross-country in a vintage motorhome!















Comments
Loads of stuff to consider, do and maintain, but seems like you have a lot of fun as well.
Thank you for sharing with us at SSPS 406. See you again soon
Author
It’s definitely always an adventure!
This is very timely because friends of ours rented a campervan (as we call then) for 6 weeks in New Zealand, and I’ve been wondering about doing the sane thing. The good bits sound wonderful, and renting it would probably be easier because we’d have support if there were problems. I think campervans are smaller than your RVs so Im not sure we’d actually make it without killing each other. Nowhere to hide. Thanks for linking
Author
I’ve always wanted a smaller motorhome, but now we are used to the extra space! I was just thinking the other day, how different it is how in other countries the caravans are so small compared to the U.S! It definitely makes it easier to travel about with a smaller rig. If you do end up taking a RV road trip I’ve got loads of other articles on my blog about traveling cross country in a RV, lots of great insider info!