As we contemplate our second winter in the RV, we’re naturally looking back to last winter, and considering all of the things we learned from that experience.  Full-timing presents a special challenge, especially if you’re not planning to hie yourself immediately to the bottom of Florida or Arizona on the first of October.  We spent most of last winter closer to the middle of the country (you know, where they have weather) and it’s looking like this winter’s going to be the same.  With that in mind, I thought I’d throw together a few Things They Might Not Have Told You about staying in your RV in cold climates:

1:  The insulation is going to suck. Unless your RV was built for cold climates, there are hundreds of heat-loss points that will ensure that it’ll be hard to keep interior temps above 40 degrees if it’s 20 outside.  Keeping the blinds and curtains closed helps.  We hung sleeping bags over the entry door and the windshield, which cuts down on light but helps to keep heat in.  Insulated covers for your roof vents are available from RV shops, and we’re going to experiment with stuffing insulation under the dash and into the front-seat footwells as well.

2:  If you’ve got a motorized RV, don’t forget to switch the dashboard climate control to RECIRC; otherwise fresh, cold air will blow in through the dash vents!

3:  The furnace will keep it reasonably warm inside.  If it’s an LP furnace, it’ll also go through propane like nobody’s business.  Not only is that stuff expensive, but if you’ve got internally-mounted tanks like ours you’ll have to unhook to refill it, or convince the propane truck to come to you.  We kept LP usage down by lowering the thermostat to 65 overnight and purchasing an electric space-heater.  We got a compact DeLonghi oil-filled heater that works like a little radiator and has a built-in timer.  It seems to be more efficient than a comparable ceramic-element heater, has a lower surface temperature (the better for the cat to lay in front of it) and stores in the under-storage during the summer.

4:  Get an electric blanket, preferably before the cold season starts and they become impossible to find.  Seriously, you’ll thank yourself for it.  Between the electric blanket and the space heater, we were able to turn our furnace off completely some nights.

5:  Check for exposed pipes in your under-storage.  Newer RVs sometimes duct warm furnace air into the basement, but older coaches like the Incorrigible don’t.  The lack of insulation down there means that cold air blows right through.  You’ll notice this heat loss from the inside, especially if you have a non-carpeted floor.  Foam wrap on exposed pipes will help to keep them from freezing, though it’s not a guarantee.  Some RVers even hang clip-on worklights down there, to let the heat from the bulbs keep the temperature up.

6:  Before the temperature drops below freezing, make sure you disconnect from any external water sources and pack your hose inside.  We tried insulating our hose with foam insulation when the temps dipped into the 20s, which was not effective.  Some folks recommend heated tape wrapped around the hose, but we chose not to spend the money; it’s easier to fill the onboard water tank, unhook and avoid the risk of being frozen to the standpipe.  It takes a long time for the standpipe to thaw.  Trust me.

7:  Make sure your sewer drain valves are closed, and get as much water out of the hose as you can.  Few things are nastier than trying to clean out a sewer hose that’s blocked by an ice-dam of black water.  Thankfully, this is not something we had to experience firsthand.  Ice in your sewer hose can also put small rips in the material resulting in foul-smelling leaks (or hilarious dirty-dishwater showers) later, so be careful if you have to stow it when it’s below freezing.  For stowing in the cold, we found that flushing the hose with water beforehand tended to clear the ice out.

8:  Speaking of those drain valves, they can freeze shut.  Don’t try to muscle them open; the handles will break off.  Usually, as the ambient temperature goes up, they’ll come free.  If it’s ridiculously cold, some patience and a hair dryer (or heat gun, if you’re so fortunate) are the way to go.

Of course, we’ll probably learn more things this winter, but hopefully these tips will make your first winter as a nomad somewhat more bearable.  Hopefully the other nomads out there will have more tricks to suggest, if you can’t (or don’t want to) avoid the cold weather.

When it came time to consider a toad (the vehicle that’s “towed” behind the RV, geddit?), one thing was clear to both of us: we were going to need four-wheel drive.  After a road trip out west that had Emmy attempting to explore Montana’s fire roads and ghost towns in a Mazda Miata, it has been decided that go-anywhere ability is a must when traveling.  Space to carry treasures is a bonus, as well.  And, of course, we wanted reasonable (read: better than 20mpg, if possible) fuel economy.  All of this had to come in a package small enough that it wouldn’t overtax the Incorrigible’s 5000-lb towing capacity.  Another concern was flat-towability.  The ability for our auxiliary exploration craft to be towed with all four wheels on the ground would mean that we wouldn’t need to fuss with a trailer or a tow dolly and would simplify the docking and un-docking process.

We considered the following:  Honda CR-V and Element, Nissan Rogue and Xterra, Ford Escape/Mazda Tribute, Subaru Forester, Jeep Patriot, Wrangler and Liberty, Suzuki SX4 and Grand Vitara, Saturn VUE, Toyota RAV4 and FJ Cruiser, Mitsubishi Outlander, Land Rover LR2, BMW X3, Volkswagen Tiguan and Volvo V50 AWD.

The weeding of the field began in earnest.  The Tiguan, LR2 and Patriot cannot be flat-towed without restrictions, and I found conflicting reports as to whether the Escape was capable or not–some sources said yes, some said no, and some said only two-wheel drive Escapes can be flat-towed.  Since I couldn’t get a definitive answer, I ruled the Escape and its twin-under-the-skin the Tribute out.  The Rogue, Element, V50 and SX4 lack sufficient off-road skills to ensure that Emmy won’t find a way to break them or get them stuck somewhere.  The RAV4 and Xterra butted up against our weight limitations.  Of the remaining vehicles, we ruled out the Outlander, Grand Vitara and nearly identical VUE on uncomfortable-seating grounds.  That left us with the Jeep Liberty.  When we knocked on the door and told them of our dastardly, broken-minded expedition, Jeep was happy to loan us one on behalf of the magazines I write for.  Adventures big and small are Jeep’s stock in trade, after all.

Our handsome silver Liberty arrived with a decent level of equipment, but it’s not loaded to the gills.  The standard 3.7 liter V6 and four-speed automatic transmission is a good, all-purposes drivetrain, well suited to both in-town and freeway travel.  We hope it’ll be torquey enough to tackle some trail riding as well; the Liberty’s Trail Rated status suggests that this won’t be a problem.  Anticipating adventures, we also equipped the Liberty with the skid plate package, tow hooks, trailer package, stain-resistant upholstery and a full-length canvas sunroof, the better to let the great outdoors come inside.  All told, the Liberty stickers for just over $29,000.

To haul the Liberty, we chose a Demco ExcaliBar.  This relatively lightweight (47lb) towbar attaches directly to the Incorrigible’s trailer hitch, and a swiveling mount and telescoping arms make it easy to attach and detach the towed vehicle once the matching baseplate is installed.

That part took a bit of doing, like everything must.  Attaching a baseplate to the front section of the Liberty’s frame entails removal of the front fascia, and requires that extra holes be drilled.  This was a bit beyond my ability, so we visited the folks at Sparks Auto in Westland, MI, where we’ve been taking our personal cars for years, and Gary and Nick were happy to tackle the installation.  Demco’s instructions were clear and concise, to a point.  What the instructions didn’t tell us was that the bar was designed for a Liberty without the optional skid plate and tow hook package.  Removing the tow hooks and lower radiator protection got us down to where the bar could be installed, but the mounting rivets for the radiator armor interfere with the bolts for the Demco bar.  With some skilled trimming and grinding of the bar, Nick was able to get it installed and the radiator skidplate reinstalled.  The tow hooks, unfortunately, are not compatible with the Demco bar and had to be left off.

Once installed, the bar is relatively unobtrusive, protruding only few inches out of the lower air intake, and hooking up to the ExcaliBar took about five minutes and required no difficult maneuvering.  Jeep has fitted the Liberty with an automatic “neutral” setting on the four-wheel drive system that allows it to be flat-towed without any modifications; just press the correct button on the dash, put the transmission back into Park, disconnect the battery and you’re ready to go.
Getting the Liberty hooked up for the first time was stupidly easy; the Demco ExcaliBar is simple to use, and requires little in the way of heavy lifting or skilled maneuvering to get properly situated.  As we worked our way through it in the parking lot of the local ACO/Blockbuster Video, an older Liberty pulled up and the driver asked if we needed help.  Turns out he tows his Liberty behind his own RV, and was willing to offer assistance if we were having trouble.  I explained to the man, whose name was Willie, that it was my first time and that I’d be happy if he’d look over my shoulder and let me know if I was about to do something stupid.  I managed to get the Liberty hooked up without incident.  Willie also bought his moho at General RV, and referred me to the guy who did the electric wiring and auxiliary brake controls for his Liberty, for when we want to add those features.  (Wiring the electrics up like a trailer means that the Liberty’s brake lights will come on when the Incorrigible stops, when it’s being towed.  Auxiliary brake controls mount inside of the Liberty, and will push the pedal down to add the little Jeep’s braking power to that of the RV in emergency situations.  Both of these are handy, but expensive, items to have.)

Since we don’t have the Jeep wired up, we used a set of magnetic trailer lights that I had sitting in the garage, so that drivers behind will be able to see what the Incorrigible is up to when the Lib’s blocking its taillights.

Our first fully self-contained excursion went smoothly, apart from a woman in a Hyundai Elantra who flipped us the bird on I-94.  Why would someone do that?  Well, we were cruising along in three lanes of relatively heavy traffic, moving at about 60 in the right lane, with a semi truck ahead of us, one behind, and a big Ryder van on our left.  The woman in the Elantra came off of the on-ramp, but didn’t accelerate, looking for a break in traffic where there wasn’t one, and apparently she thought that it was our responsibility to move over or slow down and let her in.  Sorry, miss, but it isn’t; you gotta pick your spot and go.  I could see that she wasn’t going to make it if she didn’t speed up, but there was nowhere to merge to, and I wasn’t about to slam on the Incorrigible’s brakes and annoy the trucker behind me.  She gave us the finger as she careened off of the end of the merging lane and into the breakdown lane, kicking up dust.

With the Jeep attached, the Incorrigible takes significantly longer to accelerate and stop.  It also takes about a quarter mile to change lanes, a large parking lot to turn around, and it can’t back up.  This resulted in some hilarious navigation hijinks, but thus far we’ve managed to get where we’re going.