Goodbye Campground, Hello âLuxuryâ
My six months at the campground were up. Time to say goodbye to the pink recliner under the tree, the entertainment from clueless campers, and the water nightmares. Time to say hello to a five-star resort!
Sure, âOld Faithfulâ (my 1997 fifth wheel) was a little too old for their liking, but I buffed her up and hoped they wouldnât notice. After some last-minute site-shuffling drama, I landed a long-term spot just as winter crept in. Batteries, propane, hoses all set. My heat pump kept me cozy (until December nights dipped too cold).
Thatâs when I decided: tonight, the furnace takes over.
The Banshee Awakens
At 3am, I was jolted awake by a scream so unholy even a banshee wouldâve covered her ears. My furnace, which I had turned off because it was making explosion sounds the day before, decided to resurrect itself like a demon with abandonment issues.
My soul left my body.
It must have dropped below 10°C inside, because thatâs the thermostatâs âoffâ threshold. So even though the furnace was âoff,â it took it upon itself to come alive anyway. Meanwhile, the radiant heater couldnât keep up, and the electric heater, the one I donât trust overnight because it likes to melt its own plug at 1500w, blew the outside breaker the moment I cranked it to full blast, ignoring the cardinal rule of RV life: only one appliance at a time.
Which shut off my heat tape.
Which froze my water line.
Because of course it did.
So there I was, freezing, naked, stumbling in the pitch dark slapping every light switch in the trailer while trying not to die of hypothermia and heart failure.
Finally, in sheer panic, I nearly ripped the thermostat off the wall to shut it up. The trailer was barely 9°C, and between my shrieks and the furnace screaming like a banshee, I prayed the neighbors hadnât already phoned an exorcist.
Two days, a space heater, and $700 later, a technician returned my furnace in âgood as newâ condition.
Sweet Dreams⌠Sour Stench
That night, finally relieved, I drifted into a dream banquet fit for a king. Then came the stench… rancid, stomach-turning. I woke gagging. My trailer was warm⌠but smelled like roasted mouse.
Windows flew open, blizzard be damned. I tore off the furnace panel with a screwdriver and flashlight. And there it was: a very dead mouse curled up beside the squirrel cage fan.
Lesson Learned
Maybe that was the banshee all along. Either way:
- Donât trust previous owners who claim âno mouse problems.â
- Always check for traps (if you find them, thereâs a reason).
- And never underestimate the power of one tiny rodent to haunt your furnace
