[Note to those looking for action and adventure: This post is all talk. For A&A, click here for a very exciting day in Willcox and here for sandhill cranes and my first trip to Mexico.]
David
is attracted to the big American vehicles known as motor homes. I am not. He
dreams of traveling in one, and his dream is my nightmare. He is drawn -- and I
pull back as he tries to pull me forward. This struggle has been going on for years.
Almost
every long-married couple (if your experience is different, please share it
with me!) has recurrent, never-resolved debates, and some of them make no
difference whatsoever. An example of such a trivial debate is ours over spotted
horses: I love an Apaloosa, and David wouldn’t have one as a gift. To him, only
a solid color (preferably black but definitely dark) is acceptable in a horse.
I love a dapple myself. I also love a buckskin. I like black horses, too – just
not exclusively. The bottom line, however, is that it is highly unlikely we are
going to become horse owners at this stage in our lives. Nothing is riding on a
decision. No decision is called for.
I
wish I could say the same about the motor home debate, but I fear it could be
otherwise.
Recently
I had a couple of new insights into our different opinions. The insights hardly
promise to resolve the differences, but they’re interesting, nonetheless – at
least to me.
Last
summer David spotted a motor home he considered an ideal size (which I saw as
alarmingly, dismayingly enormous), and he began dreaming out loud about how
wonderful it would be to take on the road. My reaction was: “It’s so big we
would never
be able to explore dirt roads or two-tracks. We’d be on expressways all the
time (and I hate expressways). Furthermore, it’s so complicated, like hauling a
house around, that you would be completely absorbed in driving and worrying
about every aspect of the vehicle, and you wouldn’t pay any attention to me at
all.” I summed up my view by telling him, “It would be, literally, hell
on wheels!”
He laughed and was unconvinced, but he did see, I think, where I was coming
from. Whenever a car we’re in starts making a strange noise, forget
conversation! How would it be, then, with all the potential for problems in a
motor home?
Okay,
now forward to this winter. A friend who came to visit us here in southeast
Arizona is traveling this season in a small motor home. Her husband is back
home in Michigan. She’s traveling with her two cats – and having the time of
her life! David saw her vehicle as too small for us, and she admitted that when
her husband joins her on the road from time to time, a larger motor home would
suit them better.
She
and David got into a long discussion on the merits of motor home travel, in
general. He asked what it cost to stay places overnight. She prefers state
parks to RV “campgrounds” (the scare quotes are mine, as you could probably
guess; most people use the term with no irony intended) because the state parks
are cheaper, but they’re still not cheap. David asked about mileage. Not great.
My observation then was that considering the overnight fees and gas
consumption, traveling in a motor home wasn’t much cheaper than staying in
motels.
“But
you can make your own meals in your motor home, instead of eating in
restaurants,” my friend pointed out. She and David also raved about the
convenience of being to “pull over and take a nap” whenever they got tired.
“A
man convinced against his will/is of the same opinion still,” wrote Ogden Nash,
and the same is true of a woman. But I was not even convinced. When I travel, I
like
eating in restaurants and not having to shop, cook, and do dishes! I like staying in a motel
where clean sheets and towels are provided, and the bed is immaculately made
and the bathroom has been cleaned by someone other than me!
The
next day I accompanied our friend, in her vehicle, to a big truck stop out by
the expressway, where she could “dump.” Need I say more? Offsetting all the
“conveniences” of taking a home with you on the road, as I see it, is that you
also take along all the concerns of having a home with you on the road. Locking
such a vehicle involves much more than a click. Powering and fueling and
monitoring all its systems is quite a job.
I
would never want to be responsible for all the complex systems of such a mode
of travel -- and, of
course, I would not be if David were the driver and expedition leader, but
then, neither would I have a relatively carefree travel companion, because, as
I pointed out to him last winter, he would be constantly monitoring the house
we were hauling around behind us. It’s no simple turtle shell!
If it were not making some strange noise, he would be listening to make sure there was no strange
noise. The concerns of traveling in a car would be multiplied and supersized.
Size
– that's another issue.
Whenever
my attention is called to a motor home, my first response is to its size. I
tell David I would be embarrassed to be a passenger in one of the behemoths we
see on the road. Besides the fuel expense and the mental energy one of those
things would demand (detracting from my enjoyment of new scenery and regional
culture), the sheer look of excess repels me. Our friend’s current vehicle is not
like that. It’s modest in size and looks like something I could drive (if I had
to). But David considers it “too small,” and Karen agrees that it’s too small
when she and her husband are living in it together. But if it’s something I
might have to drive, a pickup with topper or van with rear extension is as much
as I want to consider.
We’re
still stuck, aren’t we? Why? Is there any possible resolution? Maybe not, but
that’s probably because we are trying to compare apples and oranges, and maybe
recognizing that will at least shed some light on the debate.
Brian
Wansink, a researcher into eating habits, writes in his book Mindless
Eating: Why We Eat More Than We Think about the differences between what men and
women consider “comfort food.” For men, a warm, home-cooked casserole or
meat-and-potatoes meal is “comfort food,” while the phrase conjures up in a
woman’s mind images of ice cream, candy, and snacks. Why? Because they have
different associations with the word “comfort” and with the foods they put in
the category. The foods men put in the comfort food category are those that
make them feel taken care of. Is it any surprise that they imagine a woman
taking care of them? And that where they see “comfort,” the woman sees “work”?
Women’s comfort foods are those that don’t require work: they are
“hassle-free.”
Men’s
comfort: Be waited on!
Women’s
comfort: Put your feet up and relax!
In
the motor home debate, the key issue might be defined as “freedom,” and here
again, what David sees as freedom, I see as work. Someone would be fixing those
meals, doing that laundry, cleaning that vehicle. Not to mention that someone
else
– he – would be focused on the smooth running of the vehicle rather
than
on his companion and the world around. This, of course, is my perspective. The
“freedom” touted by advocates, my husband included, looks to me like the complete opposite for both of us.
Can’t
we stop and take naps in the car? I could relax pretty well with my feet up on
the dashboard. How about you?
5 comments:
Although Barry and I have many areas where we're still negotiating, a motor home is not one. He can not understand why anyone would ever drive one anywhere. I have a small motor home fantasy (but only a teeny one). Like you, eating out in a restaurant on a trip feels like a treat. I also think that small is best. (Big motel bills are not.) Guess we'll just keep our car or travel on an airplane and then visit family members!
Hste to tell you but I dream of the road too..tho in a small vehicle. If I wasn't maried I think I'd already be there.
After I sorted out my thoughts by writing this post, David and I had an excellent conversation on the subject. He understands and agrees completely with my argument that hauling a house around the country would not be freedom. He doesn't want to do a lot of traveling in a motor home: he just can't help wanting one -- and envisions leaving it somewhere, maybe up in the U.P., where we would go to "visit" it and stay in it from time to time, maybe making very short forays from that home base. I'd still rather make the forays in a regular vehicle (something suited to two-tracking), but we are not as far apart on this subject as we thought, when we compared notes in detail. HOORAY!!!
As a sometime driver in the mountains, I sure hate to get
behind a motor home! It seems
there are two types of motor home owners; the snowbirds who spend
their winter living in one in the warmer climes, and (around these parts anyway) the folks who head
to the weekend and vacation getaway in the mountain forests.
One of my endless supplies of
odd tales centers on these latter folk. A popular area which had
many motor homes coming and going
was frequented by someone who siphoned gasoline, which was inconvenient and aggravating. Nor
could the siphon perpetrator be
found, though everyone was on the lookout and F&G rangers searched. Then, one happy day,
a motorhome was discovered, with
damning evidence, siphon hose, gasoline can and some faded footprints. The guy had tapped
the motor home septic tank by
mistake. Eeew. ..and apparently
turned to less dangerous crimes.
BB, you sure do come up with some great stories. This one leaves me speechless.
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