WorldTravelReynolds

We finally did it, ya’ll. We took our brand-new, shiny motorcoach out for its very first “shakedown cruise.”

For the uninitiated, a shakedown cruise is a fancy nautical term for taking a new ship out into the wild to see what breaks, what rattles, and what catastrophic user errors occur under real-world conditions. It is an incredibly apt name, because this trip literally shook down every loose screw, equipment quirk, and personal flaw we possess. Thankfully, the coach held up great. As for Chuck and me? Well, we’re still speaking to each other, so I’m calling it a win.

We didn’t stray far from home, choosing Sweet Citrus Acres in Crystal River, Florida. It’s a gorgeous, newer resort with pristine concrete slabs and a beautiful pool. The only downside? It was so miserably hot that we now fully understand why the snowbirds flee this state like they’re in a witness protection program. Sitting by the pool felt like sitting in front of a giant commercial hair dryer set to “broil.”

But hey, we survived! And we learned a lifetime of lessons in exactly three days. Here is the play-by-play of our first official foray into “not-quite-camping.”

Our first day started, as all great American road trips do, with Chuck bleeding. I am beginning to think that if Chuck doesn’t bleed during a project, the universe feels fundamentally incomplete. Bless his heart, he’s not even on blood thinners; his skin is just made of 1-ply tissue paper.

Phase 1: The Blood Sacrifice

He successfully hooked up the power, but while tackling the water line, he had a “mishap.” By the time I finished patching him up, he looked like he’d just lost a samurai knife fight. Wisely, he decided to leave the sewer hose hookup for the next day. A wise man knows his limits when actively hemorrhaging.

On the bright side, he got the freezer ice maker working. Priorities, people. If we were going to bleed out in the Florida humidity, at least our drinks would be chilled.

Phase 2: The 15 Bays of Arguments

We have 15 storage bays underneath this beast. Trying to organize them became a masterclass in marital communication. “Organization” in this context meant me trying to find a home for everything while Chuck either loudly disagreed with my system or entered a state of weaponized compliance where he just stared blankly into the abyss. It was an adventure within an adventure.

Phase 3: The Crunch heard ‘Round the Campground

We have three slide-outs on this coach. As we started opening them, I proudly watched the walls expand—until I remembered, with a sickening crunch, that I had left our small stainless-steel trash bin right in the clearance zone. Remember, we’ve never done this before!

The result: I now own a custom-dented trash bin, and our brand-new slide-out has a beautiful, fresh crack in the trim. If anyone has a YouTube tutorial on “How to fix your brand-new RV before the first payment is due,” please drop it in the comments.

Phase 4: The Culinary Disaster of Night One

Dinner was supposed to be easy: juicy burgers on our portable grill and crispy fries in the oven.

The Oven:

We couldn’t figure out how to light the gas oven. Rather than swallow our pride and read the manual, we did what any mature adults would do: canceled the fries and ate potato chips like feral toddlers.

The Grill:

I opened approximately 15 storage doors outside looking for the extension cord, only to realize Chuck may or may not have left it at home.

The Pivot:

We set up a folding table on the completely wrong side of the coach just to plug the grill directly into the utility pedestal.

The Plot Twist:

Five minutes into cooking, the skies opened up. It poured. To Chuck’s credit, he had warned me it was going to rain, but the grill was currently sitting at 500 degrees. We couldn’t exactly bring a localized sun inside, so we left it out there to fight the elements alone while we rescued the half-raw burgers and finished them in the microwave.

Cold buns, microwaved patties, and a very soggy grill. I have never poured a glass of wine so fast in my life.

Phase 5: The Night of a Thousand Rhythms

Thank goodness for Starlink, because Netflix saved our sanity after the burger tragedy. But then came bedtime.

I need total, tomb-like silence to sleep. No fans, no white noise, nothing. Our coach has two AC units, one of which lives directly above the bed. It proceeded to aggressively kick on and off. All. Night. Long. Combine that with the Florida wind blowing like crazy—making the coach rock and shake (and not in a soothing, cruise-ship kind of way)—and a mattress that left my hips begging for mercy, and let’s just say night two heavily featured earplugs.

Phase 6: Goalie in the Galley

Morning brought perfect coffee, thank the Lord, but washing dishes became the next Olympic sport. First, it took a hot minute to locate the hot water switch. Second, we have a tiny sink and no dishwasher. I spent twenty minutes playing goalie with the drain, trying to ensure not a single microscopic crumb escaped into the plumbing gray tank. It’s a high-stakes game.

The Final Verdict:

All in all, it was a fantastic maiden voyage. Neither of us has ever owned an RV, and we’ve never been “campers,” but we are officially hooked on this rolling luxury lifestyle. We’ll definitely be back to Sweet Citrus Acres in the winter when the air doesn’t feel like warm soup.

The first trip is in the books, the trash can is dented, Chuck is healing, and I’m already planning the next escape. 

This year will be limited trips due to other worldly travels but we will be hitting it hard next year!

May God bless you always!

Chuck and Lea Ann