Towing a Travel Trailer with Zero Experience
The adventure of a lifetime. A 2500-mile journey across six states and back in 15 days. The open road, a shiny new travel trailer, and the promise of “freedom”. After only owning my "Tiny Hotel on Wheels" for only 3 weeks, my friends and family thought that I was absolutely nuts doing this solo. Ha! As I hit the road with Grundii 🐶, my trusty four-legged companion, for my maiden voyage towing a travel trailer, little did I know what was up ahead and what the meaning of "What could possibly go wrong?" was. 🤔
Here’s the blow-by-blow account of my epic first journey: a rollercoaster of humor, anxiety, and maybe a few tears (don’t judge me).
Day 1: Departure from Massachusetts (aka "I Can Totally Do This")
I kicked things off in Massachusetts, bright-eyed and bushy tailed. My trailer was gleaming, the Explorer was purring, and I was ready for the road—or so I thought. The first moment of doubt didn’t even come when I hooked up the trailer. No, it was the moment I realized, "Hey, this thing is, like, a lot different than just driving a car."😱
I cautiously pulled out of the driveway like I was about to launch a space shuttle, checking my mirrors and cameras every two seconds, convinced I’d either hit a mailbox or that car two blocks away. But the good news was—I was on the road! In my mind, I was now a seasoned road warrior, like RV adventurers, right? I practiced towing and backing up in the parking lot at the local sportsmen’s club. So, hey—I was ready.
I was on my way to my first Harvest Host, Smokey Hollow Maple Syrup, located in Jordan, NY. Who knew how drastically different gas mileage would be when towing a vehicle? I knew it would be less, but this much?! As I watched the fuel needle quickly plummet downward with no gas station in sight, I called my dad in a panic. 😬 He asked where I was. I don’t know…. somewhere in New York? And all that kept running through my head was “What if I have to back up?” in a tight location in order to find gas. Long and the short of it, I found a gas station but now have added an additional 30 minutes to my trip. Subsequently, I have learned that driving 300 miles will require many gas tops, 3 times if I’m lucky, 4 times depending on the terrain. (Lesson 1) But I guess that was ok because it gave me a chance to stretch my legs, use the trailer’s bathroom and take Grundii potty.
Oh, wait! Did I mention that Grundii really doesn't enjoy car rides? He’s basically a bundle of anxiety in the backseat—panting, whining, refusing to lie down, and leaving me a nervous wreck! Thank goodness I had the foresight to check with my vet beforehand. They hooked me up with some Trazodone and Gabapentin, and, with a healthy dose of peanut butter (because, priorities), we were ready to roll. The poor guy—his walk to go potty was so slow, you'd think he was walking to the car for a one-way ticket to a horror movie! 😅 But hey, it’s better than risking a heart attack, and at least he’s getting a peaceful nap out of it. I’d call that a win!
Back to my story…. Let me tell you, driving a travel trailer up and down winding roads feels a lot like being in an action movie, except the movie is called “How Not to Tow a Trailer.” You’re gripping the steering wheel so tightly that your knuckles are almost translucent. You tell yourself, “It’ll be fine, this is fine,”.
After navigating the trailer over the mountainous terrain, I finally found the Harvest Host. Because I was a little late, Jim, my host had to leave for a meeting. Thankfully there was a fellow camper to show me where to park. And guess what?! It was a level pull-thru site, yippee!!! 👏 And I could connect to shore power. Winner, winner, chicken dinner!
I got the trailer set-up, played ball with Grundii, made dinner and hunkered down for the night. But before settling in for the night, Jim gave me a tour of the maple syrup operation and I got to purchase some yummy maple treats in the little store…. maple butter, candies and syrup. 😋 An overall successful first travel day. 👍
Day 2: Ohio—“The Trailer Tilt Test”
Day two was a true test of my skills. I realized something important: towing a trailer on the highways of New York, Pennsylvania and Ohio is basically like participating in the Fast & Furious franchise, but in reverse. There’s this constant feeling that you’re being judged by every vehicle on the road. And I learned what it is like when a tractor trailer passes me. (Lesson 2) It can feel like you’re suddenly caught in a mini windstorm. The sheer size of the truck creates a powerful gust of air that rocks you and your trailer, sometimes making it feel like you're momentarily lifted or pushed to the side. As the truck zooms past, the sound is a deafening roar, like a distant thunderclap getting louder and louder until it reaches a crescendo—then it fades as quickly as it arrived.
I’m headed out to my second Harvest Host, Wolf’s Wine Company, in Amherst, OH. After numerous fuel pit stops, I was close to finding my next destination. I saw the sign on the right, pull into what looks like the entrance and follow the driveway as it turns into a bumpy and curvy dirt road. I had no idea if it was the correct location, until I saw the blue metal building my host told me about. I pulled up making sure that if I had to reverse direction that I could do so without backing up. Ah – the backing up fear! 😆
Jim, yes, another Jim, came out to greet me and showed me where to park. Phew! This one was also a pull-through site and had shore power. Hold up! His lawn mower was broken, and the grass was over a foot high. This led to a very deceiving belief that the ground was level. Um, no. Oh, crap! 😲 “How do I make the trailer level?” I had watched many You-Tube how-to videos but to do it in real life, by yourself, was another story. All that kept going through my head was “If you don’t do this right, the refrigerator will stop working”. With grim determination, I set out to try, I should emphasize the word try, to level the trailer…. I only had two sets leveling blocks and it was very steep… I did the best that I could. Note to self: buy another set when I get home. (Lesson 3)
After a leisurely stroll around the pond to let little Grundii burn off some energy, we made our way into Wolf’s bar for a well-deserved drink. A little sustenance was in order next, so, following my host’s glowing recommendation, I ordered the most mouthwatering BBQ from a nearby spot and had it delivered straight to the bar—talk about convenience! The wine? Chef’s kiss—absolutely fantastic, and the sunset was so stunning, it practically begged for a photo or two or three……which I took. With a full belly, a glass in hand, and the sky putting on a show, I was ready to call it a night and gear up for tomorrow's adventures.
Day 3-8: Indiana—"Playing Tank Tetris"
At this point, I was getting into the groove of things. I knew when to stop for gas, how to use my mirrors and back-up camera to change lanes and how to level the trailer. It was a beautiful sunny day and I was on my way to Amish country to attend the Second Annual Sunset Park RV Rally. The drive was basically uneventful and I rolled into North Park Amish Campground in Shipshewana, Indiana….looking like the road-weary traveler that I was.
I parked next to the office to check-in. My site was a pull-through. Bazinga! No backing up, sigh of relief. 😮💨 But then I found out that there was no sewer connection at the site and all the other sites were booked. Panic….what now?
With no sewer hookup, you realize that you have to conserve water as to not fill up the grey tank before you have to leave. Brushing your teeth? Oh, that’s a whole new ordeal. You get the tiniest trickle of water, carefully brushing your teeth and rinsing. Every splash of water is accompanied by the guilt of thinking, "Was that really necessary?" You know you’ve crossed into a new level when you start measuring how much water you're using to wash your hands in teaspoons.
At some point, you realize that you also have to conserve shower water. "No problem," you think, "I’ll just take a quick, efficient shower." That’s okay. It’s not about luxury. It’s about speed. You quickly evaluate the situation, deciding on a battle strategy and step into that cramped, almost-claustrophobic shower: “A quick rinse, a strategically timed soap application, and a fast rinse again. Simple.” It is then that you begin to reconsider whether washing your hair is really necessary…Nope, skip it. You’re in and out faster than a raccoon at a campsite buffet, leaving the shower feeling... mostly wet and somewhat clean.
The tanks were filling up, yet I felt like I had mastered the art of water conservation. (Lesson 4) All seemed well, until I realized something vital: I needed to use the dump station for the first time. Eeek!🤮
Imagine. You’re confident. You’ve been using and traveling with the trailer... You’ve mastered towing, setting up and breaking down. You’re a seasoned adventurer now. You think to yourself, "How hard can it be to empty the tanks? It's just a few steps, right?"
I pulled up to the dump station with the kind of optimism that only comes from completely ignoring the unknown. I’d watched a couple YouTube videos and felt like I had this. This is the moment you become a true RV-er.
I put my gloves on, connected the stinky slinky, and thought “I’m ready”. And then, you make the most terrifying discovery of all—you can smell it. The smell of doom—or at least, what is politely known as “waste.” You didn’t think you’d encounter this yet. But now, you’re fully aware that the reason people talk about dump stations with hushed voices is because they’re not just cleaning out tanks—they’re battling the very essence of humanity’s worst odors.
I opened the valve and with a gush, the tank was emptying. “It’s happening. I’m victorious!” After what felt like an eternity of hose wrangling and dumping and flushing, I finally finished. I stood back, surveyed my work with a mixture of relief, disgust, and bewilderment. I did it. I officially used the dump station for the first time. I wanted to scream, “I DID IT!” but I couldn’t quite bring myself to say it out loud in case someone overheard me. (Lesson 5)
Side note: Because I decided to extend my stay (I mean, who wouldn't want more vacation?), I was upgraded to a full hook-up site. Basically, I went from "just happy to be here" to "I’m living the RV dream with all the hookups." It’s like the universe said, "Congrats, you’re staying longer, here’s all the amenities you could ever want!" Who knew the key to luxury was just a few extra days?
The rally was an absolute blast! Picture this: morning kick off with hot coffee and fresh donuts (because what’s a rally without donuts, right?). Then, I had a chance to check out the owners' trailer tours, snagging helpful trailer hacks. The Sunset Park RV buffet was a feast of traditional Amish fare—trust me, I stuffed my face. The following night was a delicious potluck dinner with everyone bringing their best dish, plus there were raffles and even a movie under the stars. I met so many fellow trailer owners that I’m still in touch with—hello, new friends! Oh, and a special shout-out to Chuck & Cherie, the dynamic duo behind the rally, who are also YouTube stars with their channel En Route with Chuck and Cherie—definitely check them out!
A cool bonus? The Sunset Park crew came out to do repairs on everyone’s trailers. Talk about service! I also got the chance to tour Sunset Park RV and, get this, rode in an authentic Amish carriage. Full-on Amish experience? Check!
But the fun didn’t stop there. I extended my stay and ventured into downtown Shipshewana where I hit up Yoder’s Meat & Cheese (hello, delicious!), wandered around Davis Mercantile, and explored the Yoder’s Red Barn Shoppes. Of course, I couldn’t miss the Blue Gate Mall and Menno-Hof, the Shipshewana Amish Heritage Museum for a dose of local culture.
One of the days, I took a scenic drive out to the RV Museum & Hall of Fame. And on the way back, I passed by the Exotic Animal Safari (sadly, it was closed since it was Sunday—but I was still able to take pictures through the fence…..Score!). Oh, on my last day, I made sure to swing by the Shipshewana Flea Market, one of the largest and most popular in the Midwest, where I found everything from antiques to quirky treasures.
It was a trip full of great food, new friendships, and tons of memories—definitely one for the books!🥳
Day 9-11: Michigan "The Quest for the Elusive Hookups"
At first, I was just going to head home after the rally. But why should I do that when I am already this far from home? So, I asked around for places to go that are only a day’s drive away…. Sleeping Bear Dunes in Michigan it was!
After many gas station stops, I arrived at my new location – Indigo Bluffs in Empire, MI. It was a beautiful campground with so many amenities. I thought “Sweet, this is going to be nice!” But…… If you’ve ever pulled into a campsite, excited to finally park and set up, only to find that the hookups are a good mile away and the ground is a soupy mess of mud, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
I got the trailer backed in (only took 3 tries this time…. woohoo, victory!) and began setting the trailer up. Sewer hose connected, check!✅ Power cord stretched to its entire length like a tight rope, not check…. now I needed the extension cord and everything was muddy. Phew it reached, check 2! ✅✅Time for the water hookup. I didn’t play games with this one…. thankfully I have two hoses and was able to get the water hooked up in one fell swoop, granted muddy, but check 3! ✅✅✅
After what felt like 48 hours of struggling with hoses, cables, and mud pits, I finally managed to get everything hooked up. I stepped back and surveyed my work. Everything was, somehow, functioning. The trailer was officially powered, watered, and, dare we say, connected.
Then it hits you: You have to walk all the way back to the trailer from the connections. And you’re still covered in mud. In fact, the mud now seems to have magically expanded on your shoes, as though it’s a living entity that simply cannot be removed. The victory lap is mildly ruined by the squelching sound of your shoes as they march back toward your tiny home on wheels. But ta-dah! The campground had an outdoor mat that I could borrow for the duration of my stay, saving the inside of my trailer from a filthy mess, hooray! 👏 Mental note: buy an outdoor rug (Lesson 6)
Soon after, the wheels started turning and I’m thinking of when it will be time to disconnect and flush my tanks. Oh, poop! Haha, literally. 💩 I only had one flush hose and there was no way that it was going to reach the water connection. But guess what? The campground rescued me again….they had an extra hose to lend me and saved my black tank from a turd-tastrophe, haha! 😆Add to shopping list: a second flush hose. (Lesson 7)
The following day, I was ready to really dive into the area, it was time for some fun with Grundii by my side! Together, we explored Traverse City and Mission Point Lighthouse, hiked our way through Empire Bluff Trail, Pyramid Point Trail, and Cottonwood Dunes (talk about earning those views!), and cruised along the Pierce Stocking Scenic Drive, soaking in all the beauty. After an epic three-day adventure, it was time to turn around and reverse my journey back home to Massachusetts. But of course, that wasn’t the end of the adventure—next stop? Another exciting Harvest Host! Let the road trip magic continue!
Day 12 – Ohio – “The Back-up Ballet”
After what felt like ages of driving through acres of corn fields, I finally arrived in one piece at my Harvest Host, Lynnwood Kennels in Fremont, Ohio. Oh, boy…..it’s a back-in site. Up until then, it was an uneventful day…..on the bright side, there was hook-up to shore power.🔌
Picture this: You pull into the dusty gravel driveway, and there it is—a perfect spot between two RVs, just big enough for your tiny 13-foot trailer. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. The reality? It's tighter than the waistband on your jeans after a week of campground s’mores and BBQ. You confidently say, "No problem, I’ve got this parking thing down, Right?" and then the fun begins.😁
I started the backup maneuver, pulling my trailer backward with all the grace of a professional, except that something strange happened. The trailer refused to go in a straight line. No matter how carefully I adjusted, the trailer seemed to have a mind of its own.
The left side veered too far, nearly grazing the RV next to me. The right side? Well, it’s flirting with the edge of the other RV. All I can think….there’s no way I’m fitting in this spot unless I’ve somehow learned to teleport my trailer.
I started turning the wheel in the opposite direction, overcorrecting just to make sure not to crush the parked RVs like an overzealous pancake. Nope. That didn’t help. Now I’m just going in circles. For a solid minute, I swear I could hear the sound of my own brain overheating.
After what felt like a dozen attempts and few deep breaths later, I turned the wheel, got out of the car to double-check the angles, and finally—like a knight claiming victory over a dragon—I parked my trailer between the two RVs. There’s no crash. No scratches. No dented bumpers. I made it. 👏 (Lesson 8)
The host was a law enforcement canine training facility, and I was crossing my fingers to meet some of the furry recruits. Sadly, no pups were in training at the time (bummer!). But no worries—there was still plenty of fun to be had. Instead, I grabbed Grundii, and we took full advantage of the massive field out back for a game of fetch. After being the car all day, he had a blast! After that, I called it a night, content with my furry buddy and a perfect evening of relaxing before my next day’s journey. 😴
Day 13- New York – “Splish, Splash, I was Taking a Bath”
I woke up the next day feeling rested and refreshed to enjoy a beautiful sunrise with Grundii. I wasn’t dreading today’s road trip and was hopeful for a successful day with the trailer. I was on my way to Adventure Bound Campground in Byron, New York. For the most part the ride was uneventful, until the GPS was routing me through residential neighborhoods. Uh-oh….”Am I going to have to back-up?” It wasn’t a test of my driving skills. It was a test of how well I could avoid disaster…. thankfully, I was successful in reaching the campground unscathed.
Upon arrival, the sun was brightly shining. I picked up the campground map and got my site assignment. Nice! Not far from the entrance, as I was only staying for the night, not far from trash bins, for disposal of waste that I had accumulated and close to the doggie park.
I pulled into my campsite with the kind of excitement that only a person who’s been on the road for hours can have. "I made it! I’m here! Time to relax!" you think. Then, as if the universe decided it was time to remind you that you’re not in control, it starts raining. Not a gentle drizzle, mind you—oh no. This is full-on, apocalyptic downpour. The kind of rain that immediately makes you question every life decision that led to this exact moment.
You think, “No big deal. It’s just rain. I can do this.” I confidently grabbed my windbreaker (which, in retrospect, probably wouldn’t keep me dry for more than 2 seconds), and marched over to the trailer. But as I reached the back of the trailer, the heavens opened up just a little bit more, as if to say, "Oh, you thought you were going to be dry? Think again." ⛈️
Oh, and as for the electrical and water hookups? They’re now covered in mud, and my “dry” clothes are now thoroughly soaked. At this point, I’m practically swimming through mud, slipping all over the place while trying to finish getting everything connected. But the real kicker? The fact that the camp neighbors were watching the whole thing unfold. Oh yes, they were sitting comfortably in their dry RV, watching, just watching. I caught their eye for a brief second, and they seemed to give me that sympathetic nod—the one that says, "We’ve all been there, my friend."
And then, right when I finished setting up the trailer, the rain slowed down. I looked up at the sky, and the clouds parted. No, really—they did part. 🌦️The sun beamed through like it was saying, "Oh, you wanted a sunny day for setting up your trailer? Here you go." 🤣 Add to checklist: proper rain gear. (Lesson 9)
After all that chaos, it was finally time to rescue Grundii, who had been stuck in the car through the whole mess (poor guy!). I quickly take him potty—he’s thrilled, as you can imagine—and then I turn my attention to the soggy disaster of an outfit. Time to figure out how to dry and hang my drenched clothes, which is basically a jigsaw puzzle of awkwardness in a tiny trailer. But hey, at least it’s over, right?
Now, with everything sorted (or at least semi-sorted), it’s time to finally relax. We settle in for a much-needed dinner and a solid night’s sleep, because, let’s face it, we’ve earned it. Tomorrow’s a new day—preferably one without any drama.
Day 14 - New York – “Is This the Right Place?”
So much for no drama….
I arrived at the campground, Frosty Acres RV in Schenectady, New York after a full day of driving. And I was ready. Ready to park, set up, and finally relax. Getting there earlier than planned, I was excited to have an afternoon of relaxation before heading home the next day for the last leg of my trip. But no, the trailer gods had something else in mind….
I jumped in the car with the campground map in hand and followed the signs to “Site #R14” and my gut feeling that I’m in the right place—until I ended up driving down a dead end…. every site had looked the same, but none of them had the elusive "Site #R14" I was looking for. It’s like I had entered an alternate universe where campground maps have no correlation to reality. I couldn’t find my site. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack that’s been hidden in another haystack. And then, the realization hit me……. not only did I have to back-up, but I had to do a 3-point turn on a narrow-inclined gravel road, with a trailer in tow!
But, before doing so, I finally admitted defeat and went up to the first campers I saw. They were all hanging out at the picnic table and probably judging my lack of camping skills with that all-knowing, seasoned camper look. You approach cautiously, like you're asking for a favor that might involve them personally…. “Hey there, I’m trying to find Site #R14,” you say with a hopeful smile.
They look at you for a solid 10 seconds, like you just asked them to solve a Rubik’s cube blindfolded. 😕 “Ah, that one’s… um…” They squint at the map, then at the vast wilderness around them, as if the map has suddenly changed in the time it took them to read your question. “Yeah, it’s that way,” they gesture vaguely in the direction you’ve already been.
“Thanks!” you say, trying to hide your growing frustration, and then you attempt that dreaded 3-point turn……. all the while your audience is watching and “helping” the situation by shouting “TURN LEFT!” and “NO, THE OTHER LEFT!”
I now had the trailer in a precarious position uphill and to my horror, a god-awful bang came from behind……the bar from my weight distribution hitch had popped off. To make matters worse, all my tools were under the 100-pound generator in the back of the Explorer. So, with my head held low, I am trudged off to my newfound camper friends to borrow some tools. After what felt like a full-on battle—with plenty of swears, dramatic sighs, and a bloody hand thrown in for good measure—I finally managed to get the trailer turned around. Victory never felt so sweet (or so painful)! 😜
At long last, I found “Site R14” and I got the trailer parked in the right spot, with only about 20 tries of backing in…. Good grief! I got out of the car, stretched, and suddenly realized the sun was setting, and I’ve just spent the entire afternoon in a mad, sweaty chase to find a little patch of earth to park my tiny-hotel-on-wheels. But I was here. And that’s what mattered. Next time, I am finding the site first. (Lesson 10)
Hold up! The story didn’t stop there. Instead of a nice, flat site, this site had a decline, followed by a flat spot, and then another decline—all leading to the sewer connection. And let me tell you, it was not exactly a short span... How on earth am I going to dump the tanks? Cue panic mode. 😳
Time to dig into the trailer basement for the second "stinky slinky" (because, of course, one isn’t enough) and hunt for rocks to use for some gravity-assisted drainage. Problem: All I had around me was endless grass—so naturally, it was time for a hike!
After a little adventure, I finally found the perfect rocks, got the stinky slinky propped up just right, and boom—success! Two hours later, after rolling into the campground, the trailer was finally set up and I could sit down. So much for that relaxing afternoon... but hey, at least I was still laughing. 😂
Day 15: The Homestretch Victory
The next morning, I woke up slowly, first day without needing an alarm, feeling that bittersweet mix of excitement to get home and the reality of the road ahead. With just under 200 miles left, I figured I had the day in the bag. A nice, relaxing breakfast, a smooth camp breakdown, and off I go. "Only three hours to left," or so I thought, all confident and smug. Piece of cake, right?
Well, I hit the highway, cruising along at my usual 65 mph, feeling like a road warrior... until bam—traffic. Not just any traffic, mind you, but the kind where you’re suddenly playing a game of “Will I Ever Get There?” with a bunch of other equally annoyed drivers. Bumper-to-bumper. Like, we’re talking full-on gridlock. My optimistic three-hour drive was suddenly looking more like an endless quest for a miracle.
So, there I was, stuck, wondering if I should’ve brought a picnic basket, maybe started a podcast, or at least, figured out how to make this journey a bit more entertaining. You know, like a game of "Who Can Hold Their Nerves the Longest" with a travel trailer in tow. Spoiler: It wasn’t me. 😅
By the time I reached my final destination, back home in Massachusetts, I felt like a queen. The trailer was still intact, Grundii was still alive, and somehow, I survived 15 days of towing a travel trailer by myself. And, not only that, but I was able to do a 3-point turn and park my trailer in my driveway under 13 minutes, versus the 49 minutes it took when I brought the trailer home for the first time, which came with lots of deep breathes and feelings of buyer’s remorse.
To recap……Navigating solo? Crushed it! Parking? Nailed it! Unhitching & Setting up? No problem!
Victory! I felt like I should have received a medal. 🎖 I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. I had learned about my vehicle, my trailer, and myself. So, when I go on the next trip—maybe 5000 miles, maybe 10—I’ll be ready.
Well, at least for the majority of it. 😉