Hitch-Itch
by Coleen Sykora

I have hitch-itch. It's one of those things that makes it hard to sit still. It's a chronic thing, one I get every so often. There's no permanent cure for it, but there is something I can do to ease this flare-up, to squash the symptoms until it flares again.

Move. That is the fix. Not squirm and wriggle around in my desk chair. Not get up and go for a walk or a good run. No, the move I'm talking about is getting out of Dodge, so to speak; hitching my truck to my trailer and moving it on down the road.

You've heard of cabin fever? The malady northerners suffer in late winter when they've been cooped up in their homes for months on end. Hitch-itch is something like that.

It's a restless urge to see new territory, to meet new people, to find out what is beyond the curve that lies in the road ahead. Hitch-itch means it is time for me to relocate my home on wheels to a new place, to travel. Fortunately, that is what being a full-time RVer is all about — the freedom to move when the need arises.

A new adventure comes with every move. I'm eager to see what this next one will be — and where it will be. I will meet new friends and learn about their culture. I will try new foods, or new ways of preparing familiar ones. I will need to listen extra carefully to be able to understand what the locals are saying, because their accents and slang will be different than what I'm used to hearing. Not only will I see life from a different perspective — I will experience it from a different perspective. And, all this newness, all the differences, are what holds the allure of travel for me.

We'll likely travel red roads (the RV term for non-Interstates — roads that are drawn in red on the map) which take us through interesting little towns. We won't have to hurry, so we'll have time to stop and browse the antique shop or the farmers market — where I might find another pliers for our collection or a kind of fresh produce I've never eaten before. Maybe we will see a hot sauce plant or a candy factory and stop and take a tour. Maybe the joy of the day will be in watching a sunset that is the brightest I have ever seen or in experiencing some other miracle of nature that is common for the area, but that is new to me.

Still, I'm going to miss this place. We've been here for two and a half months this time. We have friends here, folks we met a few years ago, and some we met a few days ago. My husband has a good job here; it even includes a free place for us to park our trailer on site. We're happy here, enjoying southern life — picking pecans, learning about cotton and peanut farming, feasting on south Georgia BBQ. I know I will miss the familiar greeting of the waitress at the local cafe, "How're y'all this morning?" We haven't left yet, but I find myself saying, "When we get back...." There's a tinge of sadness that we are moving.

It doesn't take long to get my home ready to travel. My furniture is mostly nailed in placed. Things that permanently set out in the open, such as the TV and VCR, were long ago silicone glued to the shelf. Even that useful, but decorative wood box that holds papers and office supplies on my desktop is screwed to the wall. The routine takes about 10 minutes — moving the coffee pot from the stovetop to the sink, turning off the water pump and water heater, turning off the inverter, locking my desk drawers so they don't slide out and spew their contents across the entire trailer.... I do a walk-through of the trailer, to see that nothing loose is lying around and to make sure my cats are both inside.

Bob does the actual hitching of the trailer to the truck, and if we have been using any regular utilities, he puts those cords and hoses away. We finish in about the same time.

Tomorrow morning, my hitch-itch will be temporarily cured. I don't know what I will find, what the next adventure will be, but I know that it will be there — and I intend to heartily embrace it.

If you'd like to join me on our RV travels, subscribe to our free e-zine, Life as We Live It... on the road with Coleen and Bob. Send an email to lifeasweliveit-subscribe@listbot.com.

Joy and prosperity... Coleen

©2000 Coleen Sykora

About the author: Coleen Sykora is the editor of Workers On Wheels with her husband, Bob Nilles. This is their eighth year of full-time Rving. Together, they combine work and travel. Coleen’s magazine, WOW also has articles written by other working RVers, employers who hire mobile workers, and resource people knowledgeable in the lifestyle. Any questions and comments are always welcome, e-mail Coleen at moms@workersonwheels.com and check out her website and magazine, Workers On Wheels