320 miles from the Smoky Mountains to South Carolina, hitch-up to after-dark arrival, with every stop in between. This is the travel day nobody puts in the highlight reel.
Our second national park ever started with our most stressful travel day yet: mountain turns, a first tunnel with the RV, rain, and a last-minute campground switch. Then the Smokies gave us waterfalls, a snake on the trail, and the climb to Arch Rock.
Our first national park ever, and we brought 40 feet of fifth wheel up steep mountain roads and a gravel campground drive to get there. Overlooks, the Endless Wall Trail, and tacos and tequila to close it out.
We boondocked in Brinkley's lot the night before a big service appointment, broke something new while parking, and picked up a rig with fresh wall panels and a brand-new fridge. Mostly a win.
Our first travel day after months parked: a to-do list that kept growing, a crossing of the Mackinac Bridge, and a Walmart parking job that turned into a marriage exercise.
Tire pressure, wet bolts, propane, and the maintenance jobs under the rig that are easy to skip until something expensive reminds you. We work through our list and show what we got wrong first.
We came back from six weeks in Brazil to droppings, chewed mats, and at least one uninvited tenant. Four days of traps, baits, ultrasonic repellers, and sealing later, here's what actually worked.
We put the Brinkley into storage mode, flew out of Chicago to Brazil for Fabiola's graduation, and gave you the full tour of our other home, electric shower and all.
Two weeks of full tanks, a 36-gallon tote, a macerator pump, one leaky starter hose, and a mess we now call the Poopsie. Here's the tote-and-macerator workflow that finally worked for us.
Last day of boondocking, so naturally we cleaned every AC filter and ceiling fan in the rig, then skipped our Harvest Hosts plan for a casino parking lot. The slots were bad. The sleep was great.
Tiny roads, soft grass, and a 40-foot fifth wheel: our back-in at Richard Bong State Recreation Area took about eleven minutes of video to resolve. Then Wisconsin got good.
Fifteen minutes into a three-hour travel day, our trailer lights and brakes started cutting out. What roadside assistance actually did for us, what it couldn't, and how we limped to Wisconsin before dark.
We hauled our warranty list across several states to the Brinkley factory, toured where our Model Z was built, sat out a tornado watch in a house on wheels, and left with most (not all) of the list fixed.
Six months of full-time RV life, every dollar counted: truck, campgrounds, groceries, internet, propane, and the theme park tickets we're not sorry about. Here's where the money actually went.
A Cracker Barrel overnight where a truck nearly boxed us in, our first fuel stop with the RV hitched, a campsite made of mud, and a parking-lot haircut. This is the unfiltered week.
A week at East Bank Campground on Lake Seminole: remote work with a lake view, a door that wasn't actually locked, a surprise leak in the passthrough, and a cave tour to finish it off.
