The mason jar theory of RV travel


A little over a year ago, Marissa and I picked up our new RV from Elkhart, Indiana. A 44-foot fifth wheel that would be our new home.

I was nervous, but excited. Everything was new. New noises. New handling. And a new 2024 Dodge Ram Dually pulling this massive rig for the first time.

I was on the home stretch. I just had to back into our spot and we'd be set.

That's when it happened...

The corner of the truck clipped the corner of the fifth wheel. Immediately breaking in both vehicles before either of them was even 5 days old :(

And as I look back on that moment now and on the past 10 years of RV life, I realize something important. Every major mistake I've made happened at the same time. Not when I was inexperienced or when the conditions were bad, but when my energy was completely drained.

The Glass You Don't Know You're Draining

Picture a clear mason jar filled with water.

That's you at the start of every travel day, assuming you had a good night's rest and weren't already stressed about the drive ahead.

But here's the thing about RV travel days: every decision you make, every obstacle you encounter, every bit of friction causes water to pour out of that glass.

Prepping the RV. Hooking it up. Navigating to the right place.

Then you're on the road watching the guy in front of you swerve. You hear a noise from the backseat. You're thinking about turning wide while watching for someone to zip into your blind spot.

It's all these micro-decisions throughout the day.

And by the time you get to your destination and have to get into the campsite and set everything back up, that glass can be completely empty.

And when there's nothing left in the glass, that's when the damage happens.

Most people try to solve this by getting more sleep, splitting their travel day, or drinking more caffeine. And look, some of these things help. But here's the problem:

Why Your Energy Still Drains Too Fast

If you forget about this glass, you'll still encounter the same issues. Let's say you split your day but you drove through a city. Or went through mountains. Or dealt with construction. You'll still arrive with nothing left in the tank.

Because your energy drains way faster with an RV than a car. In a car, you've got maybe six things competing for your attention. In an RV? Try sixteen.

You're paying attention to:

  • Noises and sounds and how it turns
  • Tire pressure on your TPMS
  • People around you constantly
  • Clearance
  • Wind
  • Your mirrors for the RV behind you

And most of your energy goes to paying attention to other drivers.

Because when you're towing 44 feet of house down the interstate, you can't afford to react slowly.

No amount of caffeine changes that. No amount of willpower makes it drain slower.

What Actually Keeps the Glass from Emptying

Over the years, I've found three rules that work for us. Not rigid laws, but guidelines that help me arrive with something still left in the glass.

Six hours or less.

Four hours is incredible, leaving my cup half full. But six hours or less seems to be the sweet spot where I'm about 80 percent empty, yet I've still got enough energy to set up without making major mistakes.

Leave one to two hours before lunch.

This gives us momentum before we stop, and guarantees I don't arrive after dark. Because nothing good happens after dark in RV life.

Do everything possible the day before.

This is the most important one. I do everything with the RV (my part, typically the outside and prepping the truck) the night before. I don't wait until morning.

The day before, I like to:

  • Make sure the truck is full of fuel
  • Put the side deck up
  • Put the kids' bikes away
  • Clean up everything around the RV
  • Put the mats up if I can
  • And everything I can knock out from this checklist

The only stuff I leave out are things we functionally need for the night. Water, sewer, electric, and internet.

This saves me usually 60 minutes of teardown. The day we leave, I've got maybe 30 minutes of prep instead of an hour and a half.

That's 10 to 15 percent of the drain on my cup that doesn't happen because I did it the night before.

But here's where the real savings come.

By checking tire pressure and doing a visual inspection the day before, I sometimes find problems I would have found the next morning. And that's when the real energy drain comes in.

If I don't check until morning and notice a low tire or flat, boom. My energy drops to 60 or 70 percent before I even leave.

What This Actually Changes

Most people plan their travel days around miles and hours. How far can we get? How long will it take?

But I've learned to plan around something else: How much energy will I have left when I arrive?

When that glass is empty, that's when you back into something you shouldn't have. That's when you forget to check your clearance. That's when you snap at your spouse or your kids because you just don't have anything left to give.

The difference between a smooth travel day and a disaster often comes down to whether you arrive with 20 percent left in your cup or zero.

So next time you're planning a travel day, don't just ask yourself how many hours it'll take.

Ask yourself: How much will still be in my glass when I get there?

Because that question might save you from damaging your truck and RV like I did. Or more importantly, from the mistakes that can't be fixed with money.

Until next time, see you down the road!
-Nathan

Unsubscribe | Update your profile | 3500 Gainesboro Grade, Cookeville, TN 38501

RV Today, Not Someday

Gain 10+ years of RVing experience in 10 minutes a week—so you can RV without wasting time, money, or memories.

Read more from RV Today, Not Someday

The moment we decided to live in an RV, I thought the hardest part was going to be the purge. We were living in 2,000 square feet and moving into a 400-square-foot fifth wheel. That gap meant selling, donating, or throwing away nearly everything we owned: furniture, tools, clothes, kitchen gadgets, boxes of stuff we hadn't opened since the last move. It was painful and exhausting. Marissa after our latest downsize There were moments where Marissa and I looked at each other and genuinely...

Hensley was green. Marissa looked like she was about to lose it. I was gripping the railing of this ferry, watching my family suffer through 4-6 foot swells in the middle of the ocean. We were only an hour and a half in. We still had another hour to go. Hensley had already thrown up once. Marissa was fighting it. I was groggy from Dramamine, barely able to think straight. All I could think was: "This is nothing like the videos." What We Expected We'd spent ten years watching other people...

This week marks 15 years since Marissa's dad, Stan, passed away from cancer at 52 years old. He worked hard his whole life. Raised seven kids. Held multiple jobs, everything from preaching to driving a bus. Did everything right. He had plans for retirement, that magical "someday" when he'd finally relax, travel, spend time with his grandkids. He never made it. Stan passed away before he could meet Hensley or Judah. Before he could take that dream trip. Before his someday ever came. His death...