Deal With It

This one is about the bathroom. You can skip it if you’re faint of heart.

Among the top three things I love most about RVing is this simple fact: I have my own clean restroom with me at all times.

Ever since I was a kid, I have had TB. Not Tuberculosis but Tiny Bladder. My mom said that by the time I was 5, she knew every public restroom in three counties. That persists as an adult. The other day when I was home, I surprised my friend who was riding with me by stopping at a giant hardware store when I had no reason to do so.

“Clean bathrooms close to the front of the store,” I explained. Of course.

So having my own commode instead of having to warily peer into the dimly lit depths of a gas station bathroom that has a floor lined with damp paper towels and God-knows-what-else is a little slice of paradise. I can stop anywhere and do my thing. I know the towels are clean and the hand soap is unscented.

The flip side of that, of course, is that I also have to deal directly with the waste I create. This caused me much trepidation at first, but then I read Girl Meets Road’s post about septic systems and she assuaged my fears.

I had envisioned needing a Hazmat suit and getting more or less splattered from head to toe in sewage muck, when in actuality, you never even see or smell sewage, if you do the process right.

And you DO want to do it right, because you don’t want to know what happens should you do it wrong. I will just leave you with this RVer term I learned, and for the brave, you can read what it means, exactly: “The Dreaded Poop Pyramid.” NOBODY wants that.

So far I have dumped my tanks 4 times and haven’t had any issues. A big box of vinyl gloves, a little care, and the Geo Method keep me good to go and out of gas station bathrooms.

It’s worth it. It’s awesome.