Roughing It Home Away From Home, Rv Camping Offers Travelers The Beauty Of The Outdoors Without The Rigors

My family was hot and thirsty after climbing Steamboat Rock in central Washington, and we wished our campground had a refrigerator full of cold drinks.

Then we remembered: We did have a refrigerator, and a stove, and air conditioning, and a furnace, and a bathroom with shower. We even had the proverbial kitchen sink, all nicely packaged in a 29-foot recreational vehicle: $55,000 worth of rolling luxury, guaranteed to spoil us forever when it came to camping.

And we were far from alone. RV sales in the United States have increased steadily this decade, thanks to cheap gasoline, a reasonably stable economy and aging baby boomers who appreciate the great outdoors but are no longer quite so enthusiastic about lumpy tent floors.

“We’ve been going great guns,” says Bill Baker, a spokesman for the Recreation Vehicle Industry Association. “Since 1991, wholesale RV shipments have increased by 50 percent.”

The only thing I knew about RVs was that they always seemed to be in front of me on long uphill grades, crawling along at 25 miles per hour and defiantly refusing to pull over. So I borrowed a Coachmen motor home from R ‘n R RV Center, a large Spokane dealer, and hit the road.

At least, that was the plan. But I quickly discovered that borrowing an RV isn’t quite the same as renting a Buick.

I first received a 30-minute briefing from service manager Brad Griffith on the extremely complicated equipment aboard. There were enough fuses and circuit breakers to power a small house (then again, it was a small house). There were valves for fresh water, propane and the holding tanks for “gray water” and sewage. There were lighting-up routines to memorize and warning lights to monitor.

And there was a word of advice from Griffith: Because this RV had roughly a 10-foot overhang behind the rear wheels, when you turned the front end one way, the back end pivoted a LONG way in the other direction, making it quite possible to smash parking meters, signs and telephone poles if you weren’t paying attention.

“If you have a catastrophe, make it a major one,” R ‘n R sales manager Ray Bunney said cheerfully (he had earlier made sure it was my insurance covering the rig). “I want either all of it back or none of it back.”

Suitably intimidated, I drove away, and immediately encountered an elderly gentleman who almost pulled out of a driveway into my path - a decision that would have been fatal (for him; the RV weighs about 12,000 pounds). Then I pulled into a gas station to fill up (about $70 for a tankload), but drove to the wrong side of the pumps and was too scared to back up. Eventually, I got out, walked around the back to see what was there, then crossed my fingers and successfully negotiated a 20-foot reverse move.

But out on the highway, driving was kind of fun. The big V-8 engine had plenty of power (you could pass on the level, or going downhill, but not uphill). You could see a long way. And you could send your kids to their room, immediately, if they started fighting over the last cookie.

RVs have grown steadily more sophisticated in recent years. Our Santara model (I liked the voodoo-ish sound of the name, thinking it a propitious omen for exotic travels) could easily sleep six people, with a real queen bed in back.

It had a roof-mounted air conditioner, a propane furnace, a hot water heater and generator, a double sink, a refrigerator and freezer that ran on propane or electricity, an oven, three gas burners, a full-size microwave, a toilet and a shower.

There was storage in the “basement,” accessible through outside hatches. There was a big, roll-out awning and a pull-out picnic table.

Our daughters, 3 and 6, loved sleeping in the bunk above the front seats, and they would have really liked the built-in, rotating TV antenna with optional cable hookup, except that we didn’t bring a TV (you have to draw the line somewhere).

The cab itself (the RV is based on a Ford van chassis) also had airbags and antilock brakes - a comforting thought if the going gets hairy.

RV owners are a lot like newborns; they hate to be away from their mothers - in this case, campsites with full hookups - for too long. Upon arrival, you typically plug in a variety of umbilical cords for water, power and sewer. You can camp “dry” (without hookups) for a day or two, but you’ll run out of fresh water fairly quickly, even with a 40-gallon tank.

On our trip, a two-night jaunt in the Grand Coulee area, all the gadgetry worked perfectly, though we temporarily lost our hot water supply when somebody (chief suspect: my wife) turned off the heater by mistake.

What we liked best about our RV weekend was the freedom to pick a general destination and start driving, without worrying too much about where to stay (there are a lot of private and public RV campgrounds). What we liked second-best was the refrigerator, extremely luxurious after typical ice-chest camping trips with food that was either too warm or too soggy.

Overall, we found camping - especially with children - much more comfortable in an RV, and many other Americans agree. Buyers of recreation vehicles are getting younger.

“The big trend is an influx of young families into the RV market,” says Baker of the industry association. “It shows up in the sales of entry-level types of RVs, especially the folding camping trailers. And a recent Harris poll found that half of most likely RV buyers were people ages 30 to 49 with two kids.

“Retirees and mature Americans are still big parts of the RV market, but the balance seems to be evening out.”

Although the RV we borrowed seemed plenty large at 29 feet long, it was modest by industry standards. Another trend, says Bunney, is toward larger vehicles. Class A motor homes, the biggest, can range up to 40 feet long. Some “wide bodies” are 102 inches - 8 1/2 feet - wide. And many RVs now feature walls that slide out at the touch of a button, providing even more space.

All that room also creates another major advantage for RVs. When you’re done camping, you don’t have to spend hours neatly packing up your stuff. Instead, you can throw it all on the floor, close the door and drive away - hoping that you remembered to unplug all those umbilical connections, which otherwise will be trailing along the highway behind you.

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: Staff illustration by Charles Waltmire

MEMO: This sidebar appeared with the story: WHAT IT COSTS TO BUY AN RV Folding camping trailer: Has collapsible sides that fold into a compact towing package. Typically has kitchen, dining and sleeping facilities for up to eight people, but no water or toilet. Price range: $2,000 to $10,000. Camper: Fits on top of a pickup truck. Sleeps two to six people, usually has kitchen and bathroom facilities. Price range: $2,500 to $15,000. Travel trailer: May either be a stand-alone unit or a “fifth wheel” unit that attaches to the bed of a pickup. Sleeps four to eight people, has kitchen, toilet, electric and water facilities. Price range: $4,500 to $75,000. Motor home: A camping and travel vehicle on a self-propelled truck or van chassis. Includes kitchen, bathroom and dining facilities. Usually has electricity, heating, air conditioning, water and propane gas, and can sleep up to 10 people. Price range: $29,000 to over $100,000.

Renting Bell RV in Spokane is an agent for Cruise America, a nationwide RV rental company. Motor home rentals range from $500 to $1,070 per week, depending on the size of the vehicle and the season. More information For a free camping vacation planner, which includes information on RV camping, call (800) 47-SUNNY, or write to: Go Camping America, P.O. Box 2669, Dept. 23, Reston, VA 22090. - Graham Vink