Little RV proves to be fun despite its flaws
After returning the scraped-up rig - its physical scars matched my emotional ones - I swore there would be no more RVs.
A bunk bed on wheels with a neat little kitchen, all on a standard minivan wheelbase.
The van was purple and green and covered in ads and everyone wanted to talk to us about it.
[...] have fun, he said, with a salacious wink.
To convert the cargo pod - the penthouse - into a bedroom, you push a button.
Gardner, a big guy who crests 6 feet, stepped on the bottom rung of the ladder.
The plan? I will sleep inside the van, Gardner will pitch his tent.
After figuring out where to stow the luggage - some of it on the front seats - we fold down the bed.
The blankets in the provisioning kit aren't up to the task, and I regret not packing a sleeping bag.
The back of the van swings up, revealing the neatly designed little counter, sink and a pull-out burner.
Seals are barking somewhere nearby and fishing boats are motoring out of the marina.
The van comes with a DVD player and a second battery to power the lights, but it's only got one USB plug, and it's dead slow to charge anything.
There are plenty of charger ports but no actual chargers.
In a campground in Olema, we park in an RV slot and tether our gadgets to the power hookups.
While I'm charging my phone and brushing my teeth, I get a text message from Gardner who is sitting in the dark in camp.
The penthouse seems as if it would be fun for kids, but less acrobatic types might rather forgo the pod for improved mileage or just have it for storage.