RV Park
July 25, 2022 – Salt Lake City, Utah, USA
The family dragged their luggage away from the taxi. After a long international flight, the parents and two small kids looked like they had been forced out of bed by a fire alarm. They trudged into the RV rental agency’s glass-paneled reception area and dropped their bags.
Nigel Schnell stepped to the counter and said, “Reservation for Schnell.”
A man named Earl looked up from a computer screen and replied, “Yeah, I see it right here. Can I get your driver’s license and credit card? I’ll get you all squared away.”
After Earl scanned all of Nigel’s information, the two of them headed outside to inspect the reserved vehicle.
“You ever driven an RV before?” Earl asked.
“Never.”
“Don’t worry. It’s not hard. Where you from?”
“London.”
“Oh really? What kind of work do you do there?”
“I’m a banker.”
“So what bring you all the way out here?”
“It was my wife’s idea. She wants the kids to see the Wild West of America. One of her friends did the RV rental thing for the Utah National Parks. The friend convinced my wife it was the greatest thing since flushing toilets.”
“Lots of people like to camp this way.”
“Doesn’t sound like camping to me if you’re driving around in a small house. When I was a student at Cambridge, I did some real-life adventuring in Africa. We only had what we carried.”
“Cambridge, huh? Is that a college?”
Nigel gave Earl a shocked and offended look. “A university. Arguably the world’s best.”
“Then this should be no problem for you to learn.” Earl stopped in front of one of the RVs and opened the driver’s side door. “Automatic transmission. Real easy. Step on the gas or the brake pedal. That’s it. You wanna get behind the wheel? See if you have any questions?”
Nigel hoisted himself into the driver’s seat and gripped the steering wheel. “I suppose I need to use the side mirrors for my rear view.”
“Yep. And remember, this doesn’t have the get-up-and-go like a regular car. Takes a while to get up to speed.”
“I pride myself on being able to adapt.”
Earl nodded his head appreciatively. “Let’s take a look inside.”
Earl led Nigel around to the side door which opened into the RV’s interior. “You’ve got a 21-foot unit. Sleeps four pretty comfortably. Two on the bed up top. The table in back folds down into another bed. Kitchen with fridge, stove, and microwave. And a little toilet and shower.” Earl opened a door behind the driver’s seat to reveal the bathroom area.
“I didn’t realize there was a toilet inside,” Nigel said with a disgusted tone.
“Makes things extra convenient.”
“We won’t be using the toilet,” Nigel insisted.
“You never know.”
“Believe me. That door will remain shut.”
“You’re the boss.”
Earl demonstrated how to convert the dining table into a bed and then how to hook power and water lines to the RV. “And let me show you how to drain the sewage tank,” Earl said at the end of his quick tutorial.
“I won’t need to know,” Nigel insisted.
“Maybe just in case.”
“No. Don’t show me.”
Earl shrugged his shoulders and the two men returned to the office to retrieve Nigel’s family. Earl ended up showing Nigel’s wife, Marissa, most of the same demonstration of the RV’s features. He also raved about how six-year-old George and four-year-old Sophie reminded him of his own children.
“I thought he’d never shut up,” Nigel said of Earl, when the family was finally alone with the RV.
“This is so exciting,” Marissa called out. “I love how we walk around in the back while you’re driving.”
“Let’s try not doing a lot of that,” Nigel said. “First stop, a supermarket.” Nigel found the necessary directions on his phone and shifted the RV into Drive.
“Don’t forget to drive on the right side of the road,” Marissa reminded him.
“I know. I know.”
Nigel eased the RV out of the parking lot and onto a Salt Lake City street. He slowly navigated to a supermarket and parked.
“Are we there already?” George asked.
“I wish,” Marissa said with a laugh. “We’re only stopping for food and supplies.”
The family loaded up two grocery carts before returning to the RV. As Marissa filled its shelves and refrigerator, she noticed how tired her kids looked.
“They didn’t sleep much on the plane,” she said to Nigel.
“They can take a little nap while we drive to the campground. But you and I need to stay awake,” Nigel said to his wife.
With the kids lying on the convertible bed, Nigel plotted a new course to the campground in Arches National Park. The RV rumbled back onto the street and then onto a freeway. Nigel gripped the steering wheel as cars flew past him.
“Look how fast that one’s going!” Marissa cried.
“They drive like maniacs, but don’t worry about them. We’re taking things nice and slow.”
After an hour on the freeway, Nigel took an exit that led to a smaller highway. The highway climbed up the side of a canyon, surrounded by jagged rocks and evergreen trees. The RV’s engine strained to gain elevation.
“The air feels so dry. Everything looks so big and empty,” Marissa said in amazement. “We aren’t in England anymore.”
“You said you wanted to see the Wild West,” Nigel replied. He steadily kept the RV’s right wheel lined up with the right lane marker. As the road wound through narrow passages, Nigel grew more confident in his driving.
The highway finally reached a peak and began to descend. When they leveled off at a lower elevation, George and Sophie woke from their naps. They ran back and forth in the back of the RV, pausing to look out the different windows.
“You need to stay still!” Nigel called.
“Yes, sit in one place and look at the desert and all the rocks,” Marissa added.
The RV had reached a long stretch of road that cut through a dry wilderness. The only sign of life on the sandy gray horizon was the dark line of asphalt they were following.
“There’s nothing to see!” George called from his spot in front of a window.
“You have to know where to look!” Nigel called back. He turned to his wife and said, “Kind of peaceful out here. Gives you almost a spiritual feeling.”
Nigel’s peaceful moment was interrupted when George announced, “I have to pee.”
Nigel looked out at the desolate scene in front of him. “There’s no toilet around. You’ll have to hold it.”
“I can’t hold it.”
“You have to. I’ll stop as soon as we find a toilet.”
“You could pull over and let him wee outside,” Marissa suggested.
“People driving past will see him. There aren’t any trees to hide behind. He’d be right out in the open.”
“What about the RV’s toilet?”
“No. I don’t want anybody using that.”
“What choice do we have?”
“I don’t want to drive around carrying a bunch of sewage.”
“Would you rather have him go in his pants? Come on George. You can use the toilet.”
Nigel slowed down the RV and stopped on the highway’s shoulder. He was too late to stop his son from stepping into the enclosure holding the toilet and shutting the door. Nigel sat clenching the steering wheel and fuming.
“Are you okay in there?” Marissa called.
“I’m going poo too,” George called back.
“No! You can’t do that!” Nigel yelled helplessly.
As soon as George emerged, Sophie announced she had to go. “You might as well,” Marissa said.
When the RV began moving again, Nigel remained very quiet, with his eyes glued to the road. Marissa and the children pointed out rock formations and abandoned railroad cars, but Nigel barely noticed any scenery. All he could think about was what lurked in the holding tank somewhere behind him. With every passing second, it grew smellier and more diseased. Every bump in the road mixed it into a filthy, slimy mess. He could not get away from it. It was right behind him or maybe under his feet. He hummed to himself to distract his thoughts. He pushed the RV to maximum speed until they reached the entrance to Arches National Park.
Nigel confirmed his reservation at the entrance booth and took a park map. He refused to stop at the Visitor’s Center and instead drove directly to their campground.
“Look at all the pretty colors!” called Marissa. “Look at the rock balancing in the air.”
Nigel refused to look. When they reached their reserved campsite, he parked the RV and jumped out. He race-walked 100 feet away and stopped in the shade of a cedar tree.
“What’s wrong?” Marissa asked, after catching up to him.
“I wanted to get away from that machine for a while. Wanted to stretch my legs.”
“What about seeing the arches? We need to drive to the different spots.”
“Let’s just walk from here. There’s plenty to see around the campground. We’ve driven around enough.”
For the rest of the late afternoon and evening, Nigel stayed as far from the RV as possible. After some short hikes near the campground, Marissa lured him to the metal picnic table which was part of their campsite. Marissa retrieved food from inside the RV and set it on the table for dinner.
“I’m exhausted,” Marissa said as the sun set. “We have to get some sleep. Are you ready to come inside?”
“I think I’ll stay out here,” Nigel answered.
“Out here? Where are you going to sleep? We haven’t got a tent.”
“Under the table. Feels more like authentic camping to be outside.”
Nigel and Marissa argued until Marissa said, “Suit yourself. I’m too tired to have this conversation.”
“Can you toss me a blanket?”
Marissa and the children disappeared into the RV after she threw a blanket out on the ground.
Nigel slept horribly despite his total exhaustion. The ground under the table was hard. He heard animal noises in the dark. He was tempted to crawl into the RV, but the thought of sleeping next to sewage was too much. Marissa found him the next morning, still under the table and reciting a poem about courage.
“I figured out why you’re scared of the RV,” Marissa said. “It’s because the kids used the toilet.”
“Maybe.”
“That’s silly, that’s what it is.”
“It’s not silly.”
“Then what is it?”
“I can’t explain it. It’s nothing I expected.”
“Well, you better get over it. We’re here to see the sites. We have four more National Parks to visit. We can’t do it by walking around. The kids and I like the RV and I let them use the toilet again.”
Marissa cooked hashbrowns and sausages for breakfast and continued to remind Nigel they needed to get on the road if they were going to see any of the park’s arches. Nigel paced around the metal table, breathing deeply and avoiding eye contact.
“We have to do something!” called Marissa after cleaning up breakfast. “Come on, Nigel. You have to get over it.”
With a possessed look in his eyes, Nigel shouted, “Then let’s go!” He marched to the driver’s door of the RV and threw himself inside. He started the engine and rolled down the window. As soon as Marissa and the kids were inside, Nigel backed out of the parking spot.
“We should start with Delicate Arch,” Marissa said.
Nigel ignored her and followed the main road through the park.
“Nigel, where are we going?” Marissa cried.
“I’m taking care of it,” Nigel replied in a crazed voice. In reality, he was not sure what he was taking care of or where he was going. The jetlag, lack of sleep, and dry air left his brain scrambled. Even worse was the thought of the toxic waste floating around in the RV. Nigel ignored Marissa’s pleas to stop and drove directly out of the park. He continued until he was on the main street of the adjoining town of Moab.
“Nigel, turn around. What are you doing?” Marissa shouted. “You’re scaring the kids.”
Nigel was on the verge of shouting back at her when he spotted a car rental sign on the left side of the road. On the right sat a motel. He instantly had an idea and pulled into the motel’s parking lot.
“Stay here,” Nigel said to Marissa after jumping out of the RV. He walked to the hotel’s lobby and asked the clerk if there were any vacancies.
“We’ve got one left,” the clerk replied.
“If I take it, can I leave that RV outside in your parking lot?”
“No problem.”
Nigel reached for his credit card. When he walked out of the lobby, he motioned for his wife and kids to join him.
“What’s going on?” Marissa cried, rushing toward her husband.
“You said you liked the RV, right? Makes you feel like you’re camping? Fine, you and the kids can sleep inside. I booked a room for me at this place.”
“What about all the sites? Aren’t we going to see the sites?”
“Not in that thing,” Nigel said, motioning to the RV. “It’s staying right there. I’ll rent us a car. This can be our basecamp.” As Nigel explained his plan, it suddenly sounded completely logical.
“We can’t reach all the National Parks and come back here every day. It’s too far,” Marissa argued.
“I’m sure there’s plenty to see in Moab. We’ll find the stuff most people miss.”
“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Marissa cried. “We’re going to stay in an RV in a motel parking lot?”
Nigel slowly calmed her down and then walked across the street to the car rental agency. Once he secured a small sedan, he got to work plotting out a new vacation itinerary. For the next six days, his family made little excursions down the Colorado river, saw every inch of Arches National Park, and rode mountain bikes over sandstone trails. Each night, Nigel returned to the hotel to sleep while Marissa, George, and Sophie pretended to camp in the RV.
Nigel meditated before the return drive to Salt Lake City. When he finally got behind the wheel of the RV, he kept the windows down and wore latex gloves and a surgical mask. After reaching the RV rental agency, he jumped from the cab like it was on fire.
Earl was there to greet the family. “How did it go?” he asked Nigel.
“Not like I expected.”
“Well, did you enjoy the RV?”
“My wife and kids did. I adapted, but I’m not an RV type of person.”
“I’m sure someone with your experience did just fine. Did you clean out the tanks?”
“The what?”
“The wastewater tanks? You’ve got to return them drained or we’ll charge you an extra fee.”
“Charge me whatever you want. I’m not getting anywhere near those tanks.”
“Alright. I’ll take care of it. Now that you found out how easy camping can be, I hope to see you and your family back here again.”
Nigel wanted to share his opinion that camping should not be easy. But as Earl moved toward the wastewater tanks for an inspection, Nigel decided to cut their conversation short. He hurried toward the next stop on their expedition – the agency’s air-conditioned office.
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