A Hotel on Wheels

Picture touring Arizona for a week--1,000-plus miles, from the Grand Canyon down through scenic Sedona to the desert--without once unpacking or eating in a restaurant.

Now add to the picture three young children. But you never once hear, “Are we there yet?”

Impossible? Nope.

Idyllic? Almost.

You haven’t lived until you’ve toured in an RV--complete with a bathroom, table for cards and other travel games, plenty of room to stretch and a well-stocked refrigerator.

Likewise, you haven’t hustled until a gallon of milk bounces out of that refrigerator near the crest of a hill--its contents rolling toward the master bedroom, only to radically change course toward the driver as your vehicle heads downhill.

Rule No. 1: Always latch your refrigerator before takeoff.

Rule No. 2: When you’re standing at the gas pumps watching the sun set, and it gets dark before your RV’s tank is full, remind yourself of all the money you’ve saved by not staying at hotels and not eating at restaurants; of all the time you’ve saved not having to find rest areas or cater to carsickness; of all the aggravation you’ve saved not having to pack and unpack nightly from one hotel to the next.

For us, the cost of recreational vehicle travel was offset by its convenience. After a morning of hiking among the red rocks of Sedona, we returned to cold drinks and lunch in our vehicle. The girls stretched out and read or napped as we headed toward Meteor Crater in Winslow. The toilet has a holding tank and can be operated in transit; there is no dollar value one can place on this commodity.

*

Renting an RV is like buying a car: There are a lot of options you may want that drive up the cost. Rental fees also vary by season and region of the country. We opted for the deluxe model (30 feet long; microwave; sleeps seven). Our rental with Cruise America in Mesa, which is near Phoenix, began just after Christmas last year, so we beat the 1996 price hike.

The rental was $709 for eight nights. (The same unit, same time this year would rent for $896. During high season--July 1 to Aug. 15--it cost $1,239 for eight nights.) Minimum rental at most dealers is three days.

The rental included 750 miles. After that, you pay 29 cents per mile or can opt for an additional 500 miles for $125. This option can only be purchased when you pick up the vehicle, not midway through the trip, so map carefully.

We opted for the personal/bedding kits, which provided sheets, towels, a pillow, sleeping bag and sturdy plastic cup, plate and tableware at $25 a person. We rejected the $95 pots-and-pans option. Instead, I packed some pans and utensils due for replacement and made theirs a one-way trip.

We paid $96 for additional collision insurance (or be prepared to leave a $500 deposit). On this total of $1,055 we paid 11.75% in state sales taxes--an added $124. Our tab was $1,179, and we hadn’t even started the ignition.

*

We were given detailed instructions by a patient Cruise America employee on everything from cabinet latches to switches that operate the generator and water pump. In the “master bedroom,” complete with sliding door, the platform of the queen bed lifts to reveal an ample storage area, which we used to the max.

I purposely stayed inside loading duffel bags into this storage area while my husband, Michael, received instructions on how to connect the sewer hose to the holding tank (when not in use, the hose is stored in an outside compartment).

The full-size bunk over the cab is spacious, but getting in and out of it requires agility. It became the private lair of our 7-year-old twins, Caitlin and Maggie, and we had no idea how many souvenirs and rocks they had stowed up there until we packed to go home. Five-year-old Nora stowed her gear up there as well and fetched it frequently as an excuse to climb in and out.

The dining room table drops down and the padded benches on either side fold out to make a bed that accommodates one grown-up comfortably or two small children who don’t thrash. A couch behind the passenger seat easily folds out to a bed, albeit a short one.

Most campgrounds have laundry facilities and coin-operated showers. Our RV had a shower, but the additional elbow room at the campground shower stalls was well worth the quarters. Some campgrounds provide a picnic table right outside your door.

The campground fee averaged $18 a night for a full hookup (capped sewer pipe at your site, in addition to electricity and water). We cooked and heated the RV with propane, refilling the tank at a gas station only once the whole trip, for $20. You only have to back a 30-foot RV into a campsite once to appreciate fully the feature listed in the campground guides as “pull through”--which means you drive forward onto your site, and drive forward onto another road out of it when you leave.

Bob Caldarone, director of marketing for Cruise America, said there are many reasons to rent an RV, but acknowledged that cost savings isn’t near the top of the list.

“If we’re totally truthful, when you add up the cost of gas, campgrounds and rental fees versus getting a dumpy little rental car and staying at motels and so forth, the expense isn’t that much different,” Caldarone said. “The thing is, a lot of people find a motor home vacation more enjoyable. You see more. And when was the last time you stayed at a motel and got to know your next-door neighbors? When you answer that, you’ve answered the difference between motel/fly/drive and motor home.”

*

We started the new year with a tactical error. Our RV helped us survive it with humor intact.

We had ended 1995 watching the sun set over the Grand Canyon. We thought it only fitting to open 1996 with a sunrise trip.

We set our alarm for 5 a.m. Michael unhooked the RV as I laid out the kids’ parkas and snow pants. There was no need to wake them yet. It was cold and dark as we pulled up to a deserted overlook on the rim of the canyon. An hour later, it was still cold and dark.

Puzzled, we checked the RV’s clock against our watches, shrugged and brewed more coffee on our propane stove and put the bacon on to fry. The window behind the stove and picture window over the table, allowed us to gaze across the darkened canyon. No other kitchen window had this view, but where was the sun?

We checked the local tourist tabloid and found a chart of sunrise and sunset times. Being Easterners, we were a few hours early; sunrise was scheduled for 7:35 a.m. The magical light show began as we were clearing the breakfast dishes. Waiting had not proved a hardship.

We left the Grand Canyon for a marathon, 340-mile drive to Tucson. The kids (strapped in seat belts that were built into both the bench seats and the couch) played cards, wrote in their journals or played with dolls. They were able to read without the usual motion sickness they frequently get riding in a car.

I made lunch as we cruised down Interstate 17, and drove the Interstate 10 leg from Phoenix to Tucson myself.

Our new campground had a pool. The RV’s air-conditioning worked great and the vehicle provided shade and icy beverages after a hike among the saguaro cactuses. We were truly spoiled.

Heading back to Mesa to return our RV, Michael drove, I packed and we discovered one final drawback to RV travel. There is no nightly “check” on how much you accumulate. Books and posters, T-shirts and sweatshirts, and pounds of petrified wood spilled from the storage areas. We made one final stop with our RV--to a roadside plaza to buy another duffel bag.