When Danny and Lynn Blevins retired, they became full-time RV-ers. They wanted to see the country, live a simpler lifestyle and make new friends.
For the past three years, they’ve done all that and more.
“We were tired of the same old, same old,” Lynn said. “We wanted to chuck the ordinary and find the extraordinary. We found it, but we also found a bunch of potholes along the road, too.”
“Yeah, RVs can have their fair share of mechanical problems,” Danny says. “Stuff happens. But we’ve learned to roll with the punches and smell the flowers along the way.”
More than 11 million people own recreational vehicles in America. More than a million Americans live in them full time, with about half of that number over the age of 60.
Most spend a couple of years on the road seeing places they’ve only read about, meeting people very different from their old neighbors and enjoying the simple pleasures of life. Then, they shift gears and split their time between a home base and life on the road.
“It gets into your blood,” Marriner Rigby says. “After you’ve spent time on the road in an RV, it’s difficult to go back to living in just one place all the time. We used to spend every summer in Alaska. Beyond the fresh fish and clean air, there’s a sense of independence that comes from living in a place like that. A place like no other on Earth.”
One of the biggest reasons people say they become RV-ers is the freedom and flexibility it offers to explore new places, change their surroundings and escape the ordinariness of daily life. Without a set itinerary, they can spend several weeks in one place or take off for a new destination as their time and mood dictate.
“It’s the call of the open road that beckons,” says Larry Grosman. “Life is an adventure, or it is nothing.”
Walt Whitman described it this way in his poem “Song of the Open Road”:
“Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
“Healthy, free, the world before me,
“The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
“Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
“Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
“Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
“Old age, calm, expanded, broad with the haughty breadth of the universe
“To know the universe itself as a road, as many roads, as roads for traveling souls.”
“I wouldn’t call myself adventurous,” Leslie Cravens says, “but I am something of a ‘roady.’ But it’s selective. I’ll travel long distances for quilting retreats. We’ve spent as long as six weeks traveling to quilting retreats, stopping along the way whenever we see something interesting.
“We could fly or stay in hotels along the way, but who wants to do that? It’s sterile and lifeless. It sucks the energy out of people by making them succumb to the standard, corporate way.”
Instead, Leslie and her husband hitch up their fifth wheeler to their King Ranch Ford and join a group of 30 like-minded quilters who travel together in search of good times and golden stitches.
“We say we go to new places to learn new techniques,” she says. “But that’s a lie. We go so that we can have campfires and dinners and meet up at Buc-ee’s in Texas and Oklahoma. My hands start to shake and tremble if I go too long without a pulled pork sandwich and Beaver Nuggets (corn puffs covered in butter, sugar and caramel) from Buc-ee’s.”
Leslie, her husband and their dogs reside in Las Vegas, but they “live” to travel with quilting friends. “We’re a tight-knit community. We look after each other. We all love our kids and grandkids but there is a unique bond among the quilting group members. There are plenty of like-minded friends that you can tell your troubles to.”
Leslie likes the intimacy that living in an RV gives her with her husband, too. “We have deep conversations that we would never have at home in Vegas. There are too many distractions at home. On the road, we must talk to each other. And we do.”
Leslie’s husband has deep scars from his past. He was once accused of a major crime. A local television station did an investigative report implying that he was guilty. It left him suspicious of others, afraid of getting hurt, afraid of dragging her or their kids into a media firestorm. It was 30 years ago. He’s still not over it. They can talk about it on the road. It’s never discussed at home.
“There’s something about 400 feet in an RV that encourages conversation, encourages discussion, promotes healing from life’s bumps and bruises,” Leslie says. “I didn’t know why it’s that way, but it is. Others say the same thing. “
RV-ing is a lifestyle choice, many RV-ers say.
It’s not about vacationing — which can get old quickly — but instead about discovering both the outside world and inner aspirations. It’s back to nature, back to basics, back to a simpler life.
It’s also about embracing the future, the unknown, the undiscovered.
It can open some doors and close others, provide a conduit for deep conversations and an opportunity to get rid of unnecessary stuff.
It can be an adventure awaiting an invitation.