"It's Only Money"

The title of this post is one of Gary's favorite phrases, uttered on occasions when we spend more than we thought we would but get something we want. Such is the case with our latest purchase, now known familiarly as "Big Eddy." (Gary's smaller Vanagon is "Slow Eddy." We'll save that story for another day.)


You'll recall from our last post that we purchased a mini-motorhome for the incredibly low price of $7,500 -- a Craig's List bargain if there ever was one. Come to find out, however, that that big check was just the beginning.

First, the unworn tires (all six of them--truck tires, at that) turned out to be nine and 15 years old. We discovered that when Gary read the meticulous records that came with the rig. A call to Schwab (the tire store, not the financial advisor) disclosed that any rubber over six years old has lost its resilience, and a tire made of it may be unreliable at high speeds. The result: "Eddy" got new shoes, and we became less well-heeled by $1,200. (You may wonder why we weren’t concerned about the age of the tires. Simple: They only had a few thousand miles on them and looked so good; we didn’t realize that rubber that's not worn can nonetheless be subject to blow-out.)

More egregious but not totally unexpected was the actual (vs. the purported) gas mileage. "Eddy" has an automatic transmission and cruise control, but that big Ford engine is pulling a lot of weight (several tons), and let's face it, that takes gas. Lots of it. Instead of the 9 to 12 miles per gallon the previous owner said he was getting, our maiden voyage from Boise to Sun Valley clocked in at a scant 7 mpg. Our first clue was when Gary noticed the gas gauge needle dropping in front of his eyes as we crept up Rattlesnake Grade north of Mountain Home. That was just before the engine popped out of cruise control and lost power abruptly, yet another surprise. (Lesson for driver: Do not attempt to climb steep grades while in cruise control.)

And then there were sales tax and vehicle registration fees, additional vehicle insurance coverage and upping AAA to "Plus RV" so they'll tow "Eddy" if he falters. To learn about our new world and get discounts in RV parks, we joined Camper World and Good Sam Club. To allow me to work on the road we bought a Verizon data key and signed up for monthly cellular service. To power a laptop or other device from the vehicle battery while driving, I invested in a Radio Shack 350 watt 2-outlet power inverter (a nifty gadget with a fan that plugs into the cigarette lighter on one end and your electric items on the other). To sleep more comfortably in the queen over-cab bed, we brought home a foam mattress topper from Costco. Gary spent a week fixing little things—a screw here, a bolt there, changed oil and filters, greased a few joints—and wants to buy a used cargo carrier for tools and such. Oh, and we just had a mechanic give the engine and front end a thorough exam, and while “Eddy” passed with flying colors, our wallet shrank again. All told, these extra expenses are pushing the total cost of the road-ready rig to around $10,000.

Is it still worth it? You bet! We will be living in this mini-RV for two months and driving some 6,000 miles on this trip alone, and we want it to be as safe, comfortable and reliable as our home/workplace in Boise.

Lesson #2 in motorhome living: The cost of the vehicle is only the first – many more will follow.

Next: A little help from our friends.