Looking at RVs and Seeing Great Outdoors

Always a sucker for the “world’s largest” anything, I recently drove out to Irvine’s Traveland USA, which bills itself as the largest recreational vehicle shopping center on Earth.

In truth, the beautiful weather and a slew of radio advertisements had convinced me that it was indeed springtime and “time to hit the road.” I felt that hitting the road was just what I needed, but I knew that a series of obligations would keep me around for a few more weeks. The visit to Traveland--where I was nominally shopping for a pop-up trailer--seemed a perfect answer for the stationary traveler.

We’ve all heard about “the RV lifestyle,” a concept too Californian for words. Interestingly, the two most prominent “RV lifestylers” I know are Coloradans (my in-laws) who have covered dozens of these United States in a little motor home that just keeps chugging along.

But advertising catch-phrases aside, the idea of being on the road in comfort appeals greatly to us, as well it should. What could be better than guiding an immense, wheeled living room through Yosemite? The view would be unfettered, terrified motorists would scramble to get out of your way and, when even your designated driver was tired, you could just pull over and everyone would crash in beds as comfy as those at home.

(Well actually, I can think of a few things that would be better, such as blazing around the states in a fast V-8 with your sweetie next to you, checking into hotel-motels along the way and dodging the $150,000 price tag for a really big motor home. Those savings will buy a lot of “jackalope” postcards. And no dishes to clean.)

I stood on one of the Traveland USA dealer lots and stared up at the fifth-wheels looming overhead. Each was roughly the height and length of a 737. They had great names: Royals International, Commander, Prowler. They were new and gleaming and wonderfully aggressive looking. Maybe it’s the way the dealers angle them so no matter which way you turn, there’s always one staring you down. They seem to stretch backward like a long locomotive, tapering away into infinity.

“Interested in a custom coach? I’m Stan. You’re . . .”

“Jeff.”

“Like the fifth-wheels, Jeff?”

“Pop-up trailer, maybe.”

“Right over here.”

“Tell me something, though: What kind of special driver’s license does it take to drive one of those fifth-wheels?”

“None at all.”

“I could just buy it, hook it up to my truck and drive it off the lot?”

“Sure! Want to?”

“Naw. Now, the pop-ups?”

A pop-up, of course, is a dinky little thing you tow behind your car. They look like biggish cereal boxes lying on their sides, but with no pictures of Michael Jordan on them, and wheels. But when you get to your destination, you can transform this seeming aluminum box into a spacious living area with roof, “walls,” kitchen, dining room, beds, “windows.” Some models can be set up in 3.5 minutes, although it took me an hour and a half to tie the leader on my fishing line the other day, and I assume the 3.5 claim is not for people like me.

They generally come in 8-, 10- and 12-foot sizes, and the largest will actually unfold to be close to 23 feet long. A nice 12-footer can sleep eight, which is way too many people to have around you on a vacation, if you ask me. I wondered if they had a four-footer that might sleep, say, two humans and a dog or two. I stuck my head into one of them and noted the spacious beds, the roomy dining area and the little arrangements of silk flowers that RV dealers love to decorate their display models with.

Stan ditched me immediately when two more-likely looking buyers began drooling on one of his majestic 35-foot coaches. But this was OK, because I wouldn’t buy anything at Traveland USA except from Golden Way RV, which happens to be located on Lot 38.

Traveland USA is so big they’ll supply you with a little golf cart to drive around to the various lots. I watched the potential buyers shuttling around in these tiny carts, zipping amid the huge trailers needed for the RV Lifestyle. It was nice to see the smallest motorized vehicle being used by shoppers to browse the biggest.

But I knew exactly where Golden Way was, so I just drove my truck over to the lot. In fact, I had bought a trailer from them about a year and a half ago. This trailer--a 20-year old Holiday Rambler in good condition--is now parked in a land far away, where I occasionally go to get away from life as I know it. I don’t pretend this qualifies me for the RV Lifestyle, because the Holiday Rambler is huge and heavy and I have no intention of ever towing it anywhere.

I asked for Mike. Mike Leach is the finance manager for Golden Way and is also a very knowledgeable and agreeable man. He remembered me from the Holiday Rambler transaction and inquired about the performance of the trailer he sold me. I gave it a thumbs-up and told him I was kind of a little bit maybe interested in a pop-up.

We looked at the new Starcraft models, which are all called starters because they are for the neophyte RV Lifestyler. Mike showed me the three-burner, carry-out stove that attaches easily to the outside wall of the trailer for outdoor cooking. He suggested the 16,000 BTU heater with electronic ignition.

He pointed out the seamless four-ply fiberglass radius roof, which encourages water runoff. He also told me that these pop-ups are so light you can tow one behind your truck without even feeling it, and so low in the closed position that you can’t even see it in your rearview mirror.

I asked about business in general, which he said had been light the last couple of months due to rain and taxes. I asked him what kind of people were buying into the RV Lifestyle.

“Older couples buy the big ones,” he said. “Younger families, with little kids--they like the smaller stuff. These pop-ups are popular with young families. Got a nice used one, want a look?”

The used one was more than 10 years old but in good shape. It didn’t have that irresistible patina of the new, which used things never do. It was half the price of the cheapest new ones, which start about $6,000. I thanked Mike and told him I’d think about it, which I actually do a couple of times a day.

Usually I think about it when I browse the Starcraft brochure he gave me. I look at the glossy color pictures and imagine me and my Starcraft 10-foot starter parked on the East Walker River in the Sierra. I imagine all the fish I catch and release after finally getting the leader tied on. I imagine burgers on the outdoor grill, an afternoon nap in the comfort of the Starcraft four-inch cushion queen-sized bed. I imagine all the peaceful reading I can do at night under the 12-volt interior light fixtures.

I see me driving down the highway, primed for adventure, glancing in my rearview mirror to not see the little pop-up I know is bouncing along behind me, waiting to fulfill my every RV Lifestyle dream.