
How It All Started: Our Journey Into the RV Life
C MFor us, it all started in the final months of 2023. My wife and I were tired of just watching other people live the so-called dream—families traveling around the country, posting pictures of sunsets from their rigs, living what looked like a never-ending vacation. We wanted in.
The idea of packing up, hitting the open road, and still having all the creature comforts of home sounded like freedom. So, we pulled the trigger and began our first RV hunt.
And let me tell you, the hunt itself is enough to test anyone’s patience. Every newbie runs into the same storm of questions:
- Should we go with a drivable RV or a fifth wheel?
- Class A or Class C? Gas or diesel, pusher or puller?
- Do we go new or used?
- How much should we spend if we don’t even know if we’ll like it?
- And what the hell does “pre-COVID vs. post-COVID build quality” even mean? (Spoiler: apparently it means the industry cut corners when demand was hot.)
After three months of research, debating, and headaches, February 2024 rolled around, and we finally landed our first rig, a 2017 Class A, 32 feet long, with the legendary Ford V10. It had only 21,000 miles, plenty of space for our big family, and when I drove it, I saw nothing but future road trips and memories.
We were hooked. We signed the papers, grinned at each other like kids on Christmas morning, and thought, "This is it; RV life, here we come."
But here’s the truth: the real journey doesn’t start when you buy the RV. It starts after you hand over the check and drive it off the lot. That’s when you find out the RV industry has more smoke and mirrors than a used car lot on payday weekend.
Lessons We Learned the Hard Way
- Dealerships aren’t your friends. They’ll smile, they’ll shake your hand, and then they’ll sell you whatever makes them the most commission. Don’t trust the hype.
- Get an independent inspection. Always. We skipped this step and regretted it. An RV is a house on wheels—you need a pro to tell you what’s about to break.
- Extended warranties are a joke. They load them into your financing, promise the moon, and then bury the exclusions on page 14 of the fine print. By the time you need it, you’ll find out it covers absolutely nothing.
- Financing is a trap. Those “RV specialist” finance companies love to stack fees and hoops. Our best move was going through our local credit union. Faster, cheaper, cleaner.
- Dealership service is garbage. The techs talk a big game, but most bounce around from one big dealer to another, leaving behind half-fixed rigs. Family-owned dealerships? Different story. They usually care because their name is on the line.
- Insurance is a minefield. We skipped Progressive and Geico (they’re already gouging people on homeowners’ rates) and ended up with Good Sam/National General. Way better deal for us.
- Once you drive off the lot, you’re on your own. If it’s not in writing, don’t expect them to honor it. Once you sign, welcome to the club; figure it out yourself.
Why I’m Sharing This
Because this is what Wandering Nomad is all about. This channel isn’t here to sell you the dream with pretty pictures of s’mores by the fire. It’s here to give you the real story: the good, the bad, and the “you’ve got to be kidding me” moments.
RV life is amazing, don’t get me wrong. The freedom, the family memories, the constant change of scenery, it’s worth it. But the road isn’t all smooth pavement, and I’d rather you learn from my bumps and bruises than hit them blind.
So, buckle up. I’ll share the adventures, the lessons, the breakdowns, and the wins. This is the RV life we signed up for, raw and unfiltered.
Wandering, learning, and telling it like it is.
Your Travel Advisor
The Wandering Nomad