A two-day run from South Carolina to Louisville with no reservation, a 10-foot bridge with smashed RVs on its Google Maps photos, and the tightest campground we've ever squeezed our Brinkley into.
A "chill" two-hour hop from Tampa to Orlando turned into bent banana trees, a flying chair, a wind-speed research session, and the same embarrassing mistake we swore we'd never repeat. At least dinner was good.
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.
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.
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.
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.
After two months parked, we hit the road to weigh the rig at a CAT scale. Stuck chocks, a hitching refresher, and a parking lot on a hill that lifted our wheels clean off the ground.
Our very first RV travel day: 300 miles, broken dishes, a dead end, a tiny state park dump station, and one stop sign that never saw us coming. Every mistake, unedited.
