Milestones
Every new thing—the ones already done, and the ones still coming. The list will get shorter, and the stories will get longer.
Home from the seller's driveway. Forty-five minutes on the freeway. I checked the mirrors every thirty seconds and had the trailer hitch weight rechecked twice in my head before I left. Nothing moved. Nothing rattled. Pearl followed the truck like she'd been doing it for years.
Carson Valley, Nevada. One night on a BLM pullout with a long view west toward the Sierras. Slept well. It got to 42°F and I woke up warm. The vent was cracked; I could hear coyotes somewhere out in the dark. The feeling of waking up in a small wooden box in the desert is one I want to keep.
Haven't been caught in real rain yet. Looking forward to it with cautious optimism—the roof seals looked solid on inspection, and there's something appealing about the sound of it on a curved fiberglass shell.
The shake-down was one night. The real test will be a two- or three-night run—long enough to settle into a routine, find what I over-packed, find what I forgot.
Unhitch, level, stabilizer jacks, galley hatch open, awning deployed, camp chair unfolded. First try took 25 minutes. Second try took 12. It'll get faster.
Pearl sleeps two, technically. The cabin is narrow but manageable. I want to find out how that actually works before committing to an opinion.
I've been told it's not if, it's when. I'm keeping a breakdown kit in the truck and trying not to tempt fate by assuming I know what I'm doing.