We spent most of last week at McKinley Marina and RV Park. I get it now. THIS is why people choose to travel, to have a recreational vehicle, to take vacations, to keep life simple. Our days at the Oregon Coast were glorious. Weather was perfection at around 62 degrees, with no wind, and no rain. All of us spent 90% of our time outside, enjoying the simplicity of our days. The boys rode their bikes for the first time in over a year! They spent hour after hour riding the alleys of the park, picking up new “best friends” as they went. There were horseshoe, ladder golf, and cornhole games, rematches, and underdog comebacks. Jason led our bicycle gang down into town for dinner and I
beamed from the back of the pack as I witnessed our family moving as a unit, boys getting along, and fully in their element.
We were meant to be here. This feels right. This is what we hoped for. Dreamed for. Any doubt about our decisions to move into this traveling, minimalist lifestyle lifted from my stressed-out shoulders. Endorphins and euphoria were at an all-time high. Even our regal beast, Sage, loved the beach life. She was like the dogs you see in those western movies or country songs. The hound dogs that lay on the front porch watching, enjoying the lazy days of summer. Sage was our front porch hound dog. Ready for a walk, but also completely content laying around and accepting any passerby’s attention. Our day at the water’s edge, Sage LIVED for it. Sage is a nine-year-old
English Mastiff, and before we started RV life, Jason and I knew we needed to brace ourselves and be grateful for each day we had her. But now? I think this RV living is adding years to her life! She’s jogging around like a spry pup again.
Unfortunately, our time basking in the ocean air and come to an end, and we had to leave our private, dream-like oasis. Our family headed back to home base in Hermiston, Oregon. Then reality hit us, again, like the semi-trucks barreling down the freeway alongside us. As we drove down the road back to home, a blinding light was being shed on the obvious: our class C, ‘Beaty’, was too small for our family of five (plus dog and cat) to actually live in. Every cupboard, drawer, wall, bench, bed, sink, EVERY inch of our space had something stored in it, on it, over it, around it, leaned on it. For instance, one of the boys needed batteries for the laptop mouse. In order to get to said batteries, we had to move a basket filled with headphones and controllers off the dinette seat, then move the dinette cushions to open the lid to the storage below. But that still doesn’t get us to the batteries. After getting into the compartment, we need to move the balance board that’s laying over the top of everything inside. THEN we’ve made it to the bins where the batteries are, but the batteries are on the bottom, so more stuff is moved and shuffled around. Alas, we have our two AA batteries… and the task of moving everything back the way it was, so we could then sit back down and USE the laptop. This process is common to finding, reaching, or using anything in Beaty. Move, shuffle, teeter, move back, shove in and close it fast! That was the name of the game.
Then there’s the kitchen counter. Oh wait, no need to speak about it, because there IS. NO. KITCHEN. COUNTER! As beautiful as we made this kitchen look, it’s not functional for what we need. So we find ourselves avoiding the kitchen, and any cooking. Ordering out is our meal prep now. And my waistbands are groaning about my choices.
Tears from bloodshed, back-breaking hard work, and regretful decisions have fallen over this RV and everything it is. When we bought Beaty, we knew it didn’t check all the boxes we needed for living full time. And guess what? It still doesn’t check the those boxes.
Over a hundred days were documented with pictures, videos, and head shakes as we brought new life into the Class C we thought would be our traveling home for the foreseeable future.
But now, on a lovely Tuesday morning, we’re emptying her out, and prepping her for sale. We need to sell ol' Beaty because WE BOUGHT A NEW MOTORHOME! That’s right, we’re now the proud owners of TWO new-to-us RVs. No one saw this coming. Or maybe we did. Jason and I are really good at making big, life-changing decisions at the drop of a hat. That’s how we ended up with Beaty in the first place. But here we go again.
This time with a Class A coach with “BRAVE” blazoned down the sides. Seems fitting. She is meant to be a part of our journey. Our Class A has so much more room than what Beaty has to offer. There’s a 12-foot slide out that has the boys doing wrestling matches, and Sage fully stretching out in her blissful sleep.
Need I mention the queen-sized, walk-around bed in the back bedroom for Jason and I? Pretty big leap from the short, double bed that is up against the wall in the back of Beaty. This week we will spend time transitioning to an RV. Again. Learning the quirks of our new home. Again. Figuring out spaces where everyone’s belongings will fit just right. Again. Finding a new rhythm to our family’s dynamic. Again.
So here’s to unexpected endings, new RV name idea, and another fresh start.
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