🏕️ Lessons Learned on a Spontaneous Camping Trip — Rick Style

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So, there I was, watching TV at 3 p.m., minding my own business, when Rick pipes up,
“Well, do you want to go?”

I looked at him like he’d grown a second head.
“Go where?”

“Camping,” he says—like I should’ve just known what he was talking about.
Now, to be fair, we had mentioned camping earlier that morning, but I figured he meant sometime next week… not, like, right now.

The funny thing is, I had actually spent the week before cooking meals ahead. Those were for a different camping trip with Dennis and Vicky (now that’s a story for another time). But by some kind of camping miracle, I had enough ready that we were on the road by 6 and parked by 9.

Here’s what I learned along the way…

📌 Lesson #1: Rick Doesn’t Plan. At. All.
This was only our second time out with the camper, and I’m still figuring out how to get it stocked and ready. But it didn’t take long to realize that while I thrive on checklists, Rick… does not.

So, guess what I’ll be doing in the next day or two?

Yep—making two lists:

• What we need to have for every trip

• What we need to do before we close up the camper

(Yes, I forgot to turn off the fridge again. Don’t judge me.)

Getting this rig on the road is a team effort—even if one of us wings it more than the other.

📌 Lesson #2: Rick Has a Secret Network
While we were setting up camp, Kathy shows up out of nowhere.
My first thought?
“How did she even know we were here?”

Turns out Rick had been texting with Sharon and Kathy all day. They had driven up earlier, scouted out the open spots, and let him know what was available.

Did I know any of this? Nope.

So yeah… when Rick says, “Do you want to go?”—I’ve learned to just nod and grab a jacket. Because apparently, he already has people on the ground.

📌 Lesson #3: The Camper Is Now My Bug-Out Bag
From now on, this camper stays ready to roll.

Dirty clothes? Washed and packed back in.
Cupboards? Stocked.
Freezer? Full.
Chargers, blankets, snacks? Already in there.

Because when Rick gets that gleam in his eye and says, “Let’s go,” I want to say “Sure!”—not “Just give me three hours and a meltdown.”

📌 Lesson #4: Pick the Right Spot… the First Time
We rolled in at dusk and started scouting sites. Rick asked,
“What do you think of this one?”

It was near the outhouse and a water spout—both big wins. And Rick? He backed the camper in like a pro. No guiding necessary. A few turns and we were home.

The only hiccup was a row of cement blocks on one side, which made opening the stairs a little tricky. But we made it work.

We figured we’d stay there for the night and move in the morning if needed.
Spoiler: we didn’t.

At our age, once the jacks are down, we’re not going anywhere.
Lesson learned: Don’t settle unless you’re ready to stay.

📌 Lesson #5: Coffee is Sacred. Handle With Caution.
I need my coffee first thing in the morning. Always have, always will.
But with no electricity, I had to use an old-school percolator on the gas stove.

I cranked the burner on high like I do at home, and flames shot up the sides—heating the handles until they were hotter than blazes. I grabbed potholders to lift it and… the pot slipped.

A full pot of fresh, hot coffee went all over the stove, down the front, and puddled on the floor.

I just stood there and thought,
“Well, there goes my morning.”

Lesson learned: keep the flame low. Respect the percolator. It looks innocent, but it bites.

📌 Lesson #6: CPAP Machines and Pliers Don’t Mix
A few nights into the trip, I went to turn on my CPAP machine… and nothing.
It was plugged in, just like always, but it wouldn’t power on.

I checked the outlet. Nothing.
So I called Rick in.

He did exactly what I did—and got the same result. I suggested it might be a blown fuse in the cord. Rick opened it up, checked the fuse (it was fine), and then tried to put it back together.

But it cross-threaded. And that’s when he lost his patience.

He grabbed pliers, tried to twist it back in place, and kept getting nowhere. I could tell he wasn’t just frustrated with the cord—he was upset that he couldn’t fix it and worried I wouldn’t be able to sleep.

I kept telling him, “I’ll be fine. I’m not going to die—I’ll just sleep like crap.”
Eventually, he gave up and set it aside.

I ended up spending two full nights without that machine.
They weren’t restful—but I didn’t die either.

✨ Wanda-ism:
When your man says, “Let’s go,” don’t ask where—just grab your coat, your cooler, and your patience. The story’s always better when you wing it… even if it means no sleep, no coffee, and a man battling a fuse with pliers.

Pull up a chair. I have a story.