Goodbye Salmon Suite, Hello Porn Palace
After five years in the faded salmon suite, I was ready for an upgrade. Downsizing had gone well, but I had outgrown it, plus newer fifth wheels had high ceilings, multiple slides, and layouts that made my old box feel like a coffin.
Enter my 2005, 40-foot Grand Junction. Four slide-outs, a sunken rear living room, and enough space to feel like a castle. The dealer mentioned, almost casually, that it had once starred in a porn video. That wasn’t really a selling feature, but at least they disclosed more than the salmon suite ever did.
With its multiple tanks (two grey, one black, one fresh) I was ready. Three sewer hoses, a Y-connector, and a slunky support. A true pro now.
Mother Nature Throws a Fit
Spring in the Okanagan doesn’t ease you in. One day it’s 30°C, the next it’s torrential rain. The nearby creek flooded, washing the golf course into the lake, and soon the lake crept toward the park. People panicked. What if the septic system flooded?
Not on my watch. I decided to dump everything before the apocalypse. Black tank was full enough, perfect timing. I shut off one grey tank, pulled the black valve, and went inside to wait for gravity.
The Birth of Projectile Patty
Two minutes later, I went back outside. The fresh rain-washed air had been replaced by something far less pleasant.
And then I saw it.
From the sewer hole in my cedar hedge came a high-pressure fountain of sewage, arcing gracefully but horrifically into the greenery. My sewer hose had popped free, and the last dregs of the black tank were launching skyward, Projectile Patty in all her glory.
Lesson Learned
- Do not just stick your hose in the sewer hole and “hope.”
- Always use a threaded elbow connection, or at the very least, weigh it down.
And remember: no matter how new the RV, the learning curves are always shitty.
