I come from a long line of worriers—three generations on my mom’s side, with a few mental incapacities scattered on both sides—women only.
So why would I choose the RV life? It really is not suited to worriers. After all, a coward dies a thousand deaths, a brave man dies just once.
But I am rooting for the cowards because they can be the secret heroes if they persist, overcoming odds, snatching victory from the jaws of … maybe not defeat, but fear.
We should not confuse worriers with cowards. I have actually gone river rafting—yeah, the first time was when I was 64. I have actually ridden a Ferris wheel. It did take me 60 years, but I did it!
You will not be surprised to hear that my worrying is bothersome to folks with whom I associate. Some of my family call me “negative” because I frequently—not predict, but outline—worst-case scenarios. But I have bounced back from so many worst-case scenarios in my life that I have a very informed idea of what could be lurking around the next corner.
Yet, like most people crowding 70, I am a survivor. Bad things have happened. I am still here.
My first year on the road was carefree. I really didn’t know what I was up against. Lack of imagination, I guess. I blithely sailed through a few months on my own, always finding a spot to park without a single reservation at national parks like Grand Canyon and Lassen and state parks along California’s Highway 1. I had no idea about how many ways my RV could fail me.
Eight years later, there have been so many mechanical failures that it would take a scorecard to keep track. Every time I open my slide, I wonder if I will be able to pull it back in. A management mantra from my days as a newspaper editor is “past performance indicates future behavior.”
You might say this is really no way to live, but I swallow my fears every day and I am learning (slowly, finally) that it’s better if I don’t voice them to the folks around me. And I truck on. Because I cannot possibly stay at home until I am forced to stay at home. I will be on the road as long as the road lets me. It’s been my dream since I was 10.
To me, the “R” in “RV” is Resilient. To the ones like me, the worriers (and I know a few of you), we are the RRVers.
Are you a worrier? Tell me how you cope with being a “worrier” while RVing in the comments below.