The Biggest Thing I Ever Drove

You know days when you’re terrified, but then it’s ok and you feel like a rockstar? Today was kinda like that if you add a massive headache and a torrential downpour.

Through a series of unfortunate events (mostly due to the fact that I didn’t sign Eric up as a co-driver for the RV) I ended up being the person to go and pick it up. *Awesome.* Super amazing. Yay.

In other words, I was pissed. As most moms understand, nothing happens unless I’m there to “watch this” and find the “do you know where my” and “what should we do with”…. those kind of questions. The ones that make you wish you had a wife. Typically, I’d be happy to pick up an RV. Jen (the owner) seemed really cool and I wanted to get the tutorial on how everything worked — but I also had a ton of work/work to do plus packing work, getting our dog ready for her dog-cation work, you know every, single tiny detail that had to happen between now and when we pull out tomorrow morning. Plus, I was moderately freaking out because my husband is a detail guy. He loves the minutia. I was more than a little concerned that I would be facing the Spanish Inquisition when I finally got the RV home. Assuming that I did get the RV home.

After a heated conversation, I happily climbed in our SUV with the #1 son for the long drive to Jarretsville, Maryland, a cool 90-minute drive from our house. Like all days when you expect the worst, you are pleasantly surprised. Today was no different. Topher & I had an awesome chat. We talked about blogging, podcasting, and documenting our family travels to the Grand Canyon. Two weeks in an RV together? It would be an adventure! It will be an experience. It will be great!

Great is how I would describe Jen, our RV-owner, incredibly competent mom of four boys, and a rottweiler named Apollo. She took us through a detailed overview of the RV. I learned what “dark water” meant and what “gray water” is. I learned where all of the storage compartments were and what’s in them. I looked to Topher as my scribe to document all of the tidbits and fun facts that Jen was sharing. We met her cute boys and her good friend who has tremendous experience with RVs and trucks, on hand to answer questions.

After almost 2 hours of review, it was time for the big moment. Suzy was going to drive home. Alone. I tried to be really cool, like “this is no big deal,” I’m a baller. I got this. Inside my stomach was doing flip flops and I was more than a little scared to take this massive RV on the road. So nervous that I missed more than a few turns. Or maybe the navigation wasn’t working. All I know is that my phone was routing me through every winding road through construction zones. Men with cones and flags in the middle of the street daring me not to hit them. It sucked! I held on to the massive wheel like a nervous, first-day-of-school-bus-driver trying really hard not to hit anything. Either way, Topher, who was following, finally called to say, Uh, Mom? My phone is almost out of battery and you’re going the wrong way. Well, not the wrong way…but you’ve missed a bunch of turns. With his help and a well-timed-stop light, I was able to reset the navigation and make my way towards home.

Home was a long way away. Also, I was routed through Baltimore, which meant I had to take the toll road. This would have been fine if I had an EZ pass with me, unfortunately, I didn’t. (Sorry Jen! When you get the ticket, send it my way.)

Overall, the ride was fine. I didn't hit anything. So, basically off to a good start! I made friends with some truckers! (Honk. Honk.)

Driving an RV, like a Coachman, you’re so high off the ground and the windshield is so massive you feel like you’re in an airplane. In other words, you’re desperate for a co-pilot. I wished I had someone to close the passenger window, change the radio station, and get me some water.

It was loud, large and a little bit scary, but I navigated the turns, the asshole drivers, and other large trucks successfully.

By the time I made it onto the GW Parkway, I felt nearly competent to be driving such a big vehicle. As I pulled into our neighborhood, the adrenaline kicked in and I was ready for the cheers and applause from my people. I had this fantastic fantasy that Topher had made it back first and they’d be popping champagne to spray on me as I pulled up. That is not what happened.

The first thing I noticed was Topher was not home. This was understandably a bit disconcerting since, how could his middle-aged mom driving a 5,000-pound rig make it home first. Second. There would be no welcoming committee without an advance team. I honked and for a moment, several Wagners came out to say, “Is this it?” and “Oh, cool.” Then? They disappeared. So much for a welcoming committee.

I came into the house and was finally able to grab something to eat and charge my phone, dismayed to realize that I had missed 2 calls, 38 texts, and 142 emails. The real concern was that I was still missing the #1 son.

Thirty minutes later, he arrived, like fireworks. Exploding and loud. The phone had died. He was lost. It took forever. It sucked. Or in other words, he was just like his mom at 19 when I also got lost on the way to DC. It happens.

Then? It rained.

It rained like the heavens wanted to wash everything clean before we took our grand adventure. My hair may not fit in the RV and everything has a wonderful dewy fragrance. (AKA it’s wet.)

After dropping off the RV, Topher & I ran the essential errands. We went to Total Wine and the ABC Store. It was a chance to say goodbye to his friend Noah Tannenbaum and pick up “supplies.” While we were gone, I invited our next-door neighbors to check out the 33 foot RV, which was parked in front of their house. Alex & Doug Dickman are master gardeners and all-around lovely people always helping us in the yard. They also scared the shit out of Gillian, who didn’t expect them to be in the RV.

My house looks like we’re moving, I guess because we are. Tensions are running high. While we were in the middle of shoving food down our throats; Eric had called for the 8th time from Target and our dear friends Aimee Danielson, Matt Carnahans and the little Carnadans arrived bearing gifts. Shower caddies for the kids for our RV park stops and the most amazing bag of tricks: gloves, soap, sponges, a bunch of other things that only an experienced RV’er would think about — like a plunger. If social distancing wasn’t still a thing, I’d have hugged her.

We’re packing now with strong emotions, a lot of deep breaths, and copious amounts of chardonnay. (We’re basically screaming at each other.) Or as I like to think of it, getting all of the negative emotions out before our long journey.

Tune in for the adventure….