We woke up at my parents’ house and Mike, already awake and excited, says “I think we should go to Idaho!” Traffic didn’t seem bad, the number of people going there seemed much lower than estimated, and he already found places with hookups to park the RV from Saturday through Tuesday. The idea felt a little overwhelming at first -- what a big trip at the last minute, and we’re hardly familiar with how to use the RV. But once we started packing it up, we both got so excited.

As we drove through California, we remarked on how driving an RV across the country is a line item crossed off the American Dream list -- we’re just doing it about thirty years before it’s due, and we’re skipping a lot of other steps on the way. (Can’t afford a house? Buy an RV instead!)

Other things that struck us immediately: Man it’s so comfortable. And easy. We thought it would feel like roughing it, but instead it feels like luxury, almost to an embarrassing degree. This RV, with the Sprinter base, drives like an SUV. You can’t feel the weight of it, and it’s not slow or scary. The space inside is so comfortable, and you can pass each other in the hall with little difficulty (but good excuses for hugs). We almost forgot about the pop-out after we parked, because it feels so big already. And the ability to go back to the “house” while the other person is driving makes everything so much easier -- you don’t have to worry about stopping for pee breaks (which means you don’t have to worry about drinking too many fluids on the road), you can grab snacks (even cold drinks) whenever you need them, you can stretch out. (Sidenote: this also means our decision to get an RV instead of a truck hauling a trailer was a good one.) Our 12 hour day didn’t seem rough at all. And then, once you arrive at your destination, you don’t have to gather up all your stuff, move it somewhere else, and then unpack it again! Everything is already where it belongs! I definitely understand how people become RV People. ...We might have already turned into RV People in the last 24 hours.

We learned quickly that we should have a warning word while one person is driving and the other one gets up to get something, in case of sudden stops or swerves. At first, Mike suggested “Brace, brace!” because he’s been flying too much lately. My suggestion was “Hold on to your butts!” or even better, just “Butts!” for short. But when it comes down to it, “Hold on” seems to be the most useful.

We stopped in Baker to fill up gas for the first time, and then as we crossed the border into Nevada became the first people in my family to successfully get an RV out of the state of California. (Childhood lesson: springing for a slightly more expensive RV is worth it.) We stopped at WalMart in Vegas and stocked up on some provisions. When we stopped for gas in Utah, the gas pump kept shutting off after a few seconds even though the tank wasn’t full, which we thought might be our fault and freaked us out a little, but a different gas station worked fine. We got to navigate our first roundabouts in the RV (which was pretty terrifying).

Nightfall hit as we got into Utah, and we drove by Zion and a bunch of other national parks without even realizing it. We pulled into our KOA in Panguitch, hooked up the RV for the very first time (no explosions!), and went to bed, talking about how much our lives had changed overnight.