Anderson: For RV owners (and wannabe owners) home on wheels often follows a winding road

The first RV I bought cost about $2,500 and was propped up on cinder blocks alongside a ribbon of uneven blacktop south of Cumberland, Wis.

This was a pickup-camper that to someone without my keen eye for potential would have been considered a really bad investment. But I’ve bought a lot of stuff on impulse and figured a surprise purchase might salvage a deer hunting weekend marked by barren meat poles, with no bucks swinging. Cocooned in a sea of blaze orange and high on junk food, my two young sons, Trevor and Cole, were in the truck’s back seat, sleeping.

The camper’s seller couldn’t believe his luck when I knocked on his door. Wearing too-tight coveralls and between puffs on filterless Camels, he put a yardstick to his timeworn RV, measuring it against my truck. “It’ll fit!” he declared. When I asked if he’d take a check he said, “Why not?” For tie-downs we tossed cargo straps over the camper’s top and anchored them to the truck’s chassis, good enough for now.

“It’s yours!” the seller enthused.

“Can’t thank you enough!” I shouted, and I angled my dream rig toward home, the open road sprawling before me like a winning lottery ticket.

In my defense, I would later tell my wife, Jan, I had been to a lot of RV shows, such as the Ultimate RV Show, which runs Feb. 13-16 at the Minneapolis Convention Center, and the Northwest Sportshow, also at the Convention Center, which will feature RVs in addition to boats and vacation destinations, March 13-16.

At those glitzy exhibits, I had honed to a fine art the chucks and feints of the would-be buyer, alternately kicking tires of travel trailers and bouncing on mattresses of fifth wheels, as if those assessments alone would determine whether I reached for my wallet.

Pickup campers were a particular weakness of mine, because their fantasy purchase offered the rare vacation combo of interstate travel plus we could pull our boat.

Or our horse trailer.

“So, when I saw the pickup-camper coming home from deer hunting I was vulnerable,’’ I said to Jan. “An apple ripe for the picking.’’

“Still, Dad, it’s a junker,” Cole, the younger boy, piped up. ”Good going."

I wasn’t alone in my long-suffering quest for a home on the road. Since the development of the first motorized camper in 1910, millions of Americans have sallied up to the idea of combining beds with wheels and setting off for lakes and mountains, rivers and oceans.

As Albert Brooks said in “Lost in America,” the 1985 flick in which he and his wife quit their jobs and fled L.A. in a motorhome, ”This is just like ‘Easy Rider.’ Except, now it’s our turn."

Even today, despite a so-so economy that weighs on America’s big-toy markets, slowing sales of everything from snowmobiles to boats, four-wheelers to RVs, about 334,000 recreational vehicles were shipped in 2024, according to the RV Industry Association, a 7% increase from 2023.

At the height of COVID, even more RVs were produced — 430,000 in 2020 and 600,000 in 2021.

“A lot of families had more free time to do things during COVID because there were no sports for kids,” said Mike Pearo, co-owner of Hilltop Camper and RV, with locations in the Twin Cities, Brainerd, Rochester and Alexandria. “Some of those buyers have since sold their RVs. But a lot still have them.’’

Travel trailers — meaning those that hitch to bumpers or receiver-style hitches of tow vehicles — were again the most popular type of camper in 2024. Relatively easy to hook up, travel trailers, like other “towables,” including fifth wheels and folding campers, can be disconnected from their tow vehicles at campsites, freeing the vehicles for day trips.

With shipments up 16% from 2023, travel trailers were the only RVs to see shipment increases last year. Fifth wheels were flat, while folding campers and pickup-campers were down 15% and 7% respectively.

Big motorhomes, meaning Type A models, were off 32% from 2023, while van campers were down 30% and small, Type C motorhomes were off 18%.

“What we’re seeing around the country at RV shows that have been held this winter is that interest has held pretty steady among consumers, with sales either flat compared to last year or slightly up,” Pearo said. “We just finished the show at RiverCentre in St. Paul and it was good. A travel trailer we priced at just under $20,000 was our best mover.”

A lot of buyers work their way up through a series of purchases before owning their consummate RV. My $2,500 pickup-camper, for example, fairly quickly became a $7,000 investment, once its leaky roof was fixed and other improvements were made.

A few years later, after that camper was squished to smithereens beneath the snow-collapsed roof of a friend’s pole barn, I bought a similar but newer used pickup-camper for $6,000. Neither of these was pristine, but Jan, the boys and I traveled in them throughout large portions of the U.S. and Canada, sightseeing while also fishing, hunting and hiking.

In the process, lots of evenings were spent around campfires parked next to RVs that cost 10 times as much. However more comfortable those rigs might have been, they provided no more fun.

Rentals also played a role in our RV adventures.

One summer we flew to Alaska and rented a Class C motorhome in Anchorage and from there traveled and fished from Denali to Homer. Another summer we flew to Alberta, where we rented a similar-sized motorhome and took in the Calgary Stampede before fishing our way through that Canadian province and adjoining British Columbia.

All of which complement rather than replace other types of camping. Tent camping is great, as is canoe camping. Like RV camping, each offers advantages and disadvantages. But all deliver memories that can’t be replicated staying at home.

“Dad, remember the time you and I took that first pickup-camper to Father Hennepin State Park on Mille Lacs because you said you needed to ‘practice’ taking a shower to see if you actually fit in that camper’s little bathroom?”

“Remember the time we were bow hunting at Camp Ripley and the heater went out and we nearly froze?”

“Remember the time in Alaska when you watched over us with a handgun, alert for bears, while we fished for grayling along the Denali Highway?”

“Remember the time in North Dakota when we were duck hunting and you kept getting leg cramps and banging your head on the camper ceiling when you flew out of bed, waking us up?”

These days, our family bedroom-on-wheels isn’t a pickup camper, but rather a fifth-wheel.

Jan’s mom died a few years ago, and when the family cabin was sold, we used Jan’s proceeds to buy an RV that was a little bigger, and a little more comfortable, than a pickup-camper.

But no less mobile.