Sorry, it’s been a while. My repair guy finally wrapped up work on the RV—just in time for Labor Day weekend. Driving it back to the house felt like stepping into a time capsule on wheels. The year was 1998, and I was ready to party like it was 1999. The radio? Pure AM/FM glory with a cassette deck. Top of the line back in the day—but a far cry from the 10-inch touchscreen with SiriusXM I’m used to now.
The Ford Triton V10 sounded like Motorhead live at the Hammersmith Odeon, a deep rumble that rattled through the cabin as we rolled down the highway. It was the perfect soundtrack to the classic country pouring out of the speakers—rough, raw, and unapologetically old school.
The steering had just enough slop to keep me honest, demanding both hands on the wheel. I tapped the cruise control, half-expecting some light or chime to confirm—but nothing. I mashed the accelerator to crest a hill, pressed “set” at the top, and eased off the gas. To my surprise, the cruise held steady. No notifications, no digital nannies—just simple, functional mechanics. It made me miss the ’90s.
Forty-five minutes later I rolled into the entrance of our addition and wound my way toward the cul-de-sac. Pulling up in front of the house, I shifted into park and reached up to adjust the antenna for the backup camera the previous owner had installed. The antenna snapped off in my hand. I shrugged, checked the mirrors, and backed into the driveway. Who needs modern tech anyway?
That was the start of a long weekend—not at a campground or Harvest Host, but stuck in the driveway, cleaning, tinkering, and upgrading the RV. Stop back by to see how it all turned out.