These are the times we are living in, folks. Our poo has made the headlines. If you are faint of heart or don't like discussions of waste, skip this post.
I still remember the first time John told me to go get a "Poo stick." My brain couldn't quite comprehend what he was asking of me. I got a large, sturdy stick and had to unclog the toilet. In the beginning, things were pretty bad since we didn't have running water in our RV as it was parked outside our house. Without running water, there's less pressure in your flush and things get stuck more easily. Not to say that this problem is totally erased with being connected to a water line. John thinks this issue is exacerbated by my need for quality toilet paper; some things can't be compromised. Just two days ago, I overheard John providing the "Poo stick" lesson to the girls. Kaeli was grossed out, while Riley thought it was hysterical.
We've had so many issues with our toilet, dump tank, and water, that I've become very comfortable with it all. We had a problem with a leaking toilet immediately after the RV's arrival in Maryland, but we didn't notice it since we were not yet living in it and using the restroom. The RV had been winterized; however, John had to use the toilet during his trip back from Indiana. During that eventful trip, he ran into snow, rain, hills, and faced a nation entering quarantine. Our first week in the RV, we learned that a piece had frozen and broken during that trip. Amazon dutifully delivered a replacement part, but it took a week due to the shipping delays. Luckily, it was pretty easy to replace.
Our second hurdle was faced once our black tank was full. We ordered a "dump tank" (who would have ever thought that would be part of my vocabulary?) and researched spots to empty it. For my non-RV literate friends, a dump tank is simply a big portable tank that you dump your black tank into. An RV has three tanks, one for fresh water (or you can be connected straight to a fresh water line), one for gray water (this is what you use washing dishes, your hands, showering, etc.), and the black tank (toilet waste). I'll circle back around to the whole issue of "self-contained showers" in another post. Luckily, many highway rest stops have free dump stations where you can empty your tank for free. We filled our dump tank, grabbed our masks and loaded the kids into the truck. Then we realized we needed to somehow get this rather heavy tank into the bed of our truck. We used scrap lumber to make a ramp and then heaved the wheeled tank up the ramp. I’m so thankful for all those Pilates Reformer classes in the months leading up to quarantine; I’ve often said our move was powered by Pilates and sheer willpower. We've since learned to empty our tank more frequently so the tank is not as heavy. There were several times when it slipped and started to roll back down the ramp or fell off the side of the ramp. When we arrived at the dump station, we had to scout out the area because we had never seen a dump station before and were not exactly sure what we were looking for. Basically, it is just a hole in the ground with a water spigot nearby. After attaching our water hose (now dubbed the sewer hose) to the spigot and wheeling the dump tank to the far corner of the truck bed, John proceeded to pull the lever and let the waste fly. After it empties, then he has to lift the tank to ensure waste is not sitting in a corner. All the while, I am washing our waste down the hole so it doesn't get out of the concrete designated area. When this lovely process is complete, he then takes the water hose and sticks the end in the dump tank so that we can begin the cleaning process. It takes several minutes before it is truly empty of waste, then we begin the process of making sure the water runs clear in all directions to clean out the tank entirely. There have been several mishaps, a bit of a "learning curve." One time, I sprayed the water and some of the yucky business sprayed up on John. There was another time when he didn't let me know before he pulled the lever and I had not backed up out of the "splatter zone." On another occasion when the truck was being repaired prior to us leaving, we had to empty the dump tank using my van. The positive is that it was a much lower incline and easier to load. The negative? We could smell the dump tank the whole way to the dump station. It was an extremely fun ride.
The Toilet Room
There is only one space in our trailer that I truly despise. I love the space and the layout, and truthfully, the hallway bathroom area is pretty cool. We have a door on each end of the bathroom area (which houses the sink and vanity, the shower, the water heater and the jacket closet/extra food storage) which has proven a real advantage to ensuring a little privacy and some noise reduction for afternoon naps or client zoom calls. The air filter, located just outside the rat room (aka the girls‘ room) also helps with noise reduction as you can yell from the kitchen to the master bedroom without being able to understand each other.
The toilet room is small. When I say small, I mean, I literally can bump my knee on the wall in front of me.
Oftentimes, when I’m sitting in the “toilet room,” I imagine crazy scenarios inspired by books and tv, like being a prisoner boxed inside a small area with no room to move (thanks Money Heist) or being buried alive with a bell tied to my finger (ok, I know I first got this from a book, but I’m only thinking of Pretty Little Liars as a reference now, lol). Yes, it’s that tiny. I’m honestly not sure how John fits with his long legs. I tried to “dress it up” with a little bit of magic and humor, but there’s nothing I can add that will make it grow.
The toilet itself needs to be treated weekly (and if there are an odor problems) with an enzyme that helps things disintegrate. It flushes with a foot valve. When we were moving back and forth between our house and the RV, there were several times when I stood up in the house, turned to face the toilet and tried to flush it with my foot. Awkward.
We also lived with what we thought was a broken bathroom vent until about a week into our stay in Erie. That little box became so stinky that we bought a six pack of air fresheners just to survive. Unfortunately, Kaeli never mastered where to spray and how much, so sometimes you would go into the toilet room after her and slip on the floor or sit on a wet, recently freshened seat. John finally got around to examining the air vent to see what part we needed to reorder when he realized that the vent actually opens on a crank. Without the vent open, it doesn’t matter if you turn the knob to 1, 2, or off, it just doesn’t do anything. This greatly improved the Toilet Room and I’m proud to announce that our extra air fresheners are residing in one of our extra mammoth sized storage tupperwares under the travel trailer. Anyone who knows me well knows I love a fully stocked closet of the essentials and can randomly produce almost any common household product in a matter of minutes. We were unable to go through these items (and if I’m honest, it didn’t seem safe to go through all the toilet paper and soap in these crazy times we are living in) before we hit the road, so they, along with some other essentials, came with us.
The removal of waste, whether through the Toilet Room and into a sewage hose, or into a dump tank for further disposal is definitely a dirty, messy business. I hope someone can learn from our experiences, avoid the learning curve and beware of the ringing of the bell.