April 6, 2026 – Exit Strategy

We knew going into an RV lifestyle that it would eventually end and we would go back to a “traditional” home. I always liked the term ‘exit strategy’ and believed it was smart to have one. It sounds so…in control, a graceful way to bow out before things turn south.

Vivian and I never had a clearly defined exit strategy. We thought of a few “what ifs” and figured the worst case, we could turn to a family member who would give us a temporary home. The fact those members are few and far between and that we have no adult children of our own made it clear that fulltime RV living at our age lacked a comfortable level of security.

Those insecurities were suppressed for years because the RV made our dreams of traveling and living on a remote island surrounded by a national park come true. And we truly believe the past 8 years have been the best years of our life so far. The places we have been, the experiences we’ve had and the people we have met are priceless, and all the maintenance and repairs that went into the RV were worth it. Nobody can take that away from us.

But here’s the thing – while those dreams were coming true, the RV lifestyle also exposed us to risks that seemed to increase with time. Bad things can happen to anyone at any time, but when you spend your entire life on the road or in a remote location that is antagonistic to RV living during the summer season, you are pushing your luck.

In this regard, we have witnessed the worst case scenarios. We’ve seen neighbors in our island park get stuck here over the summer for unexpected health issues that required driving 60 miles or more to the closest medical facilities on a regular basis. The same thing happened to my sister and brother-in-law who also fulltime in Florida in winter and Michigan in the summer. And then there are the many people we met on the road – people stuck in a campground and unable to continue their travels because they need to be close to medical or for other reasons beyond their control.

No doubt, the older you and your RV get, the more s**t that happens. With 8 years of fulltime living under our belts, we are lucky that health issues have barely disrupted our travels or made us regret living on a remote island. But that can change on a dime.

The RV’s age-related health is another issue and while we have maintained it so diligently and have addressed many things before they became a problem, it has cost us. And the older it got, the more it cost.

With that, we decided to sell the fifth wheel after we got back from our 2026 Alaska trip and go into a rental apartment near Vivian’s family.

Of course traveling will continue because the Casita trailer has become our travel home, taking us to places we did not want to take the fifth wheel – Newfoundland last year, Alaska this year. But, as much as we love traveling in the little Casita, we could never be full time in it. That’s where the apartment comes in.

Given the expense of having to put the fifth wheel into storage while we travel and time was ticking on the RV resale value, we then decided to sell it sooner than later – before Alaska.

On March 23, we said goodbye to our 2018 Grand Design Reflection fifth wheel. It was bittersweet as I walked through our home one last time. Empty of all personal belongings, it looked as it did the day we purchased it.

But then, life threw us a curve ball. About the time we decided to sell the fifth wheel (early February), Vivian was diagnosed with breast cancer. And just like that, everything changed. Chokoloskee Island, our dream come true was no longer the place to be; we needed to get out of there sooner than later.

Alaska was put on a back burner. The apartment came much sooner.

The good news is, Vivian’s prognosis is excellent – a slow growing cancer caught early – and radiation treatment will be easier while living in a comfortable apartment only 2 miles from the cancer treatment facility. And, we will get back out there this summer with our Casita – just not to Alaska.

At the end of the day, this might be a good example of perfect timing. It’s never a good time to learn you have cancer, but if it has to happen, I am grateful it happened when it did. It was time to give up our 8-yr old RV and with the war and its consequences, the least of which is the price of diesel fuel this may not be a good year for Alaska afterall.

These are uncertain times, but at least Vivian and I can take comfort in our decisions and at last, figured out our exit strategy.