We Three In An RV

On a weeklong family road trip, JOEL STEIN discovers that navigating America’s national parks in a camper can be a blessing and a curse—but mostly a blessing.

My son Laszlo’s lifelong dream (which admittedly he hasn’t had for long, since he’s seven) has been to take a trip in an RV. Unlike me, who has never purposely popped the hood of my Mini Cooper, he’s obsessed with all manner of vehicles. But I can relate to his RV longing. Whenever I stayed home sick from elementary school, I would watch The Price Is Right, which always seemed to offer the same two top prizes: a trip to Australia or a motor home. They were also my two dreams. Like Australia, an RV offers the adventure of travel and the similarities of home, only kid-size. An RV also strips away the unnecessary distractions that keep your parents from focusing on you. When I asked Laszlo if these were the reasons he wanted to be in an RV, he looked at me like I was an idiot. “It’s a house on wheels,” he explained.

I asked my lovely wife, Cassandra, if she’d be up for taking an eight-night trip to see national and state parks in an RV, going from our house in LA to Joshua Tree, the Grand Canyon, Bryce Canyon, Zion, and the Valley of Fire. Unexpectedly, she agreed. This meant I would have to deal with the RV, which seemed impossible since I am not good at taking care of a house or a vehicle—and an RV is both.

Unable to blame my wife for not fulfilling my son’s dream, I rented a Winnebago from Apollo Motorhome Holidays, an Australian company with offices in the US. I got a 33-foot-long Minnie Winnie, which Laszlo thought was just as good as Kid Rock’s tour bus. It had a toilet, shower, refrigerator, stove, oven, bedroom, dinette that turned into a bed, couch that turned into a bed, and lofted bed over the driver’s area. For US$60 more per person, sheets and towels were included.