Rent - Repair - Roam

I was already on thin ice with the universe after jacking a 15,000-pound fifth wheel off the ground by myself in a Carolina junkyard (see: previous trauma). Now I’m towing it home.Tired. Hungry. Out of favors from the travel gods. I knew: The tires were sketchy The brake lights didn’t work And the camper didn’t love me yet

Location : North Carolina Vibe : Muddy. Dangerous. DIY or DIE. They don’t tell you this when you buy a fifth wheel from an auction site:...

I’ve bought a lot of campers. I’ve driven long distances. Negotiated like a pro. I’ve walked Kala in every sketchy patch of grass from California to Georgia. But this one? This one got me.

You pay $45 for a campsite, walk half a mile to the bathhouse, and the water pressure feels like a camel spitting on your back.

You park in the woods and meet a raccoon named “Steve” who is clearly a regular. The staff just waves at him like he’s a neighbor.

You think she’s coming to say hi — she’s actually there to ask for a part of your black tank setup mid-potato-salad.

We pull into a Walmart parking lot in Louisiana around midnight — the classic RV’er move when you’re just looking to crash for free, snag a Walmart breakfast sandwich, hit the gas station coffee, and be back on the highway by 7:00 AM sharp. But this… this wasn’t that.