bear suits, odd beeps and endless dog hair

We couldn’t leave town right away. After the movers hauled decades of life into two overstuffed storage units, we still had one last tether: the closing. So we parked ourselves—literally—less than three miles from our old house, in an RV park themed for children.

Think cartoon signage, scooters darting like dragonflies, and grown men in bear suits sweating through faux fur in 100-degree heat. It was not exactly the serene launchpad we’d imagined, but it was close, convenient, and full of character(s).

We called it our “shakedown stay”—a chance to test the rig, learn its quirks, and figure out how to live in a house with wheels. We made the bed, added decorative touches wherever we could, and tried to coax warmth out of dark wood and cheap linoleum.

We connected utilities (and promptly blew out one of our water tanks), puzzled over the lighting system, and attempted to establish internet strong enough to support two remote jobs. Spoiler: it’s still a work in progress. The movers packed my desk chair, so I’m currently improvising with a stool and a prayer.

Our side-by-side workstations—matching sit/stand desks and noise-cancelling headphones—look like a tech startup squeezed into a shoebox. We’re still trying to mount the Starlink and figure out why pointing it north works better than south. We’ve shoved most of the comforts of home into the rig, but I’m mourning the loss of a dishwasher like it was a dear friend.

This will not work.

We were bone-tired from weeks of packing, cleaning, and emotional goodbyes. That exhaustion turned out to be a blessing—we both slept like babies our first night in the rig. The dogs, of course, needed stairs to get on the bed. Because let’s be honest: we’re not sure we’d sleep without 200 pounds of Labrador wedged between us, shedding love and fur in equal measure.

It’s not perfect. We’re still adjusting, still learning, still laughing through the chaos. But the dogs are settling in. We’re settling in. And on Wednesday morning, we’ll close the chapter on suburbia and finally hit the road.

The dream is no longer just whispered. It’s rolling forward—bumpy, beautiful, and very, very real.

Next up: Wheels in motion.

After months of packing, planning, and parking in bear-themed chaos, it’s finally time to leave town. The house is sold, the rig is loaded, and the dogs are ready to chase new smells. We’re hitting the road—exhausted, exhilarated, and just a little unsure of what comes next. But the dream is calling, and we’re answering.