This is the second article in a three-part series about planning for life on the road in an RV:
Are you a full-timer wannabe? | Frequently asked questions | The chorus of regrets

As I detailed in the first part of this series, my 2004-05 diagnosis/treatment for breast cancer made us cancel our long-awaited RV trip to Oregon. My husband, Rob, always reminded me: "We'll go later and stay longer."

During our eight-year adventure, three different families rented our house, starting June 2005. This covered the mortgage and utilities, and even provided a small profit. As the years went by, we agreed to give the other partner three months' notice when we wanted to stop RVing. I finally cried "uncle," and we moved back home to Bethesda, Maryland, on Aug. 31, 2013.

When asked, "Why eight years?" The obvious answer is, "Why not?"

We've been asked a ton of questions over the years, but here are a few that come up frequently:

How did you get your mail?

Our friends and family collected our mail the first two years, and we rarely used the "general delivery" option at some USPS locations. Public campgrounds accept deliveries from Federal Express or UPS. Long-term campground leases give you a mailbox, plus your own monthly electric meter charges.

Based on strong recommendations, we finally hired SBI mail-forwarding service. We sent everyone our new street address, plus town and zip code. Using a debit card, we paid a monthly service fee, plus the cost of shipping our mail to wherever we were volunteering. Our street number is reserved for us in case we go back on the road.

To find a service that meets your needs, enter "RV mail forwarding services" in your search browser.

How did you pay bills?

I used automatic deductions from my checking account or credit cards — just watch your online accounts to verify these transactions. The fraud unit of one card called me in Florida asking: "Did you make some gasoline purchases in Georgia this week?" Nope. They terminated that card and sent a new one to a branch office.

Advise your major credit cards of your itinerary before you leave home. We forgot to do this once, and our credit card was denied after we had pumped $150 of diesel. A few phone calls remedied the situation.

How did you find access to Wi-Fi?

When we started RVing, we relied on the campgrounds' free internet (at their clubhouse) or the local public library. Today, smartphones and GPS units have revolutionized our lives.

Here's how we hoard our monthly data allotment: Enter "free Wi-Fi in _______ (town/state)" into your browser. Now, you can take a coffee, lunch or dinner break to check email or book campground reservations.

How did you find campgrounds?

We held a half-dozen RV club memberships, with varying discounts and usage requirements. I cross-referenced our route with their locations to find the best camping deals. Now these oversized directories are obsolete, and Microsoft discontinued our favorite software travel-planning program — Streets and Trips — so we use these internet alternatives:

  • Google Maps: Enter the city/state you plan want to visit.
  • Reserve America: Processes millions of camping reservations each year.
  • Recreation.gov: Purchase the America the Beautiful Interagency Pass to access 2,000-plus campsites (free or low cost) through these federal agencies: the Bureau of Land Management, Bureau of Reclamation, Fish and Wildlife Service, USDA Forest Service, National Park Service and U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. Rates are $10 for a Lifetime Senior Pass; free for military; and $80 for an annual pass. They still honor the Golden Access and Golden Age Passports we purchased in 2005.
  • Passport America offers full hookups (water, sewer and electricity with 30 or 50 amps) at half-rate prices Sunday through Thursday.

RV memberships cross all price points. Think about what amenities are important to you when selecting the best fit. I lean toward heated swimming pools and hot tubs.

If management doesn't assign your location, check out the larger corner sites. Pull-through sites make for easy parking and leaving in the morning — if you brought enough food for dinner and breakfast. Otherwise, you have to unhook your tow car to find a restaurant.

Another option is to barter your time or be paid to work your way across the U.S. When I typed "jobs while camping" into my browser, it returned 16 million results.

Did you set a travel calendar?

Wouldn't it be fun to just flip a coin, turn right if it's heads or left if it's tails, and stop driving whenever you felt like it? Our reality was "destination driven" because we'd signed up months in advance for volunteer assignments. Each job lasted three weeks, and we often stayed an extra week.

Our first year, we followed the Lewis and Clark Trail, visited a few presidential libraries, rode horseback in the Wyoming prairie and saw our first rodeo at the State Fair in Douglas, Wyoming. By interspersing membership parks with volunteer opportunities, we finally arrived on the beautiful Pacific Northwest Coast.

We drive about 250 miles a day — leave at 10 a.m., eat sandwiches or leftovers for lunch, and reach our destination by 3 p.m. On cross-country trips, we pace ourselves by spending a few nights in the same place.

I've been driving since I was 14, but I always enroll in RV driver lessons whenever possible. Our motorhome has automatic transmission, power steering and power brakes — so what's not to love? I used to be afraid of sideswiping a car or truck when I had to pass them, and I really hate traffic cones and Jersey walls. But road construction is a reality in every state.

We set the cruise control for 57 mph, relax and enjoy the spectacular views.

Did you plan for emergencies?

No one expects their car to be totaled in rural California. Or to have acute kidney failure, with dialysis three times a week for three and a half months, but that happened to Rob. I was glad to drive the RV over to our membership park in Palm Desert to get better medical care and utilize their "$10 daily medical rate."

We learned how it's important to have the conversation — "What if one of us has a serious medical problem?" — while still in the planning stages. Teenagers aren't the only ones who believe they're invincible. Accidents happen.

Weather is another concern. Hurricanes can be tracked as they develop, and we've been evacuated three times from parks in Virginia and Pennsylvania.

Never leave your awnings out if you go into town. We've witnessed a small tornado rip through a campground and hoist the awnings to the roof. Not an inexpensive repair.

Same is true for pets — don't leave them home alone all day to bark and annoy your neighbors. Rural California campgrounds warn not to leave small pets tied up outside, as they make an easy breakfast for an eagle or coyote.

Did you set a budget?

Since we married late in life, we keep all of our receipts and check to see who spent the most at the end of the month. Although we're totally different personality types, neither of us is obsessed with balancing checkbooks. We mentally "know" where our money is going: diesel fuel, grocery stores and restaurants. It's been fun to barter our labor for hookups with Christian RV ministries in eight states.

We've had our share of tire blowouts, lost all the contents of a basement bay because we forgot to lock it, and spent five days in South Dakota for an unexpected repair. It's like owning a home — something seems to always be breaking or in need of repair.

Because of Rob's construction and RV background, he can fix, mend or build anything. If he hadn't used a room in our basement to stack our furniture, ceiling to floor, we'd have paid storage fees for 98 months.

What's your best story?

We met Dottie and Ken in 2003, long after he retired from launching men and top-secret payloads into space at the Kennedy Space Center. Over the past 20 years, as full-time RVers, they've helped build 28 houses for Habitat for Humanity in the winter and volunteered at The Rocky Mountain Specialty Pack String Ranch, U.S. Forest Service in Shawnee, Colorado, during the summers.

If you're a hiker, did you know AmeriCorps volunteers build trails in the high country? How do you suppose they get their supplies? Not FedEx. Ken and Dottie fed and cared for the mules and helped load them up with building materials.

A packstring consists of a packer person on a horse, leading a string of heavy-laden mules. The mules are tied together and led with a thin string that breaks in the event one animal slips from the trail — hence, the others will not follow.

Ken's understated humor shines through when he describes their daily routine: "Let there be no misunderstanding, horses and mules (livestock) eat; hence, a primary position is manure management."

Wonder what kind of volunteer jobs you might find?