Thursday, July 30, 2015

“Camping” at Tiger Run RV Resort- Breckenridge, CO

My parents have always loved camping. I love hearing their stories of back in the day when they would hike into camping spots, everything they need on their back. That one time it just snowed and snowed on them. The other time their dummy friend forgot to put his snickers in the bear tree, begging my dad to walk back to put it up there. (“Just eat it!”) It always sounds so terrifyingly fun and adventurous.

As their bank account and family grew, so did their camping accommodations. Slowly tents started to disappear. Next was that small pop up camper, then the slightly larger pull behind. That one, they still have and I personally think is perfect for them. But not quite as luxurious as their fantasies.
Fast forward to a couple of years and couple of RV shows later. A bonus, some summer time off and all their deluxe camping dreams came true. They rented a 37 foot RV to go on a seven day Colorado road trip.

Alamosa, Greenwood Springs and then Breckenridge where Franker Pie and I decided to come meet them. We brought Nicole too.

The Facebook photo my mom posted before the trip really didn’t do it justice. This.Thing.Is.Massive. Which is why I was surprised it only had 1 bedroom. There was also a small fold out couch, but that was all for sleeping accommodations. Which Dan later explained, these type of operations aren’t designed to cram as many people in them as possible. These are people homes, many their only. So a one bedroom is perfect with the rest of the square footage used for a full size bathroom, legit kitchen and roomy living and dining rooms. #nowyouknow

After the 3.5 hour stop and go commute from Denver to Breckenridge, I was ready for a drink. Once Nicole and I arrived, we poured cocktails, toured the RV, and then went to explore this “RV resort” with Frank.

It’s more like a neighborhood. There were modest cabins sprinkled between the massive RVs- many with outside televisions, gate enclosures, plants, and dogs. These people have been here a while…
This resort also had a dog park much to Frank’s delight!

It was a really great two days- we cheersed, tried new restaurants, hiked, slept in, went to Frisco, made microwave s’mores and just relaxed.

Both my parents agreed that if this was their future (RV-ing around the state that is), they would find a small one despite loving all the space.


The biggest mistake I made the whole weekend was deciding that Frank and I would ride back in the RV to the Springs with my dad, while my mom drove Nicole back to Denver. Not sure why it seemed like such a good idea at the time.

I am, self admittedly, not a great driver. It’s not so much I’m a bad driver, just not a confident one- which, turns out, is sort of necessary when you’re handling a licensed required, potential human killing machine.

This fear of driving comes from too many close calls. Most of which were not my fault, which then places the fear on the unknown- or the OTHER drivers.

And while I had all the confidence in the world in my dad driving this 40 foot monster, it was all the OTHER drivers out there not paying attention. Plus, it didn’t help that there was a bike tour riding on Highway 9 UP the mountain pass. It was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. And yes, I am a dramatic person, but I literally had a little vomit knot in my stomach the entire way. I had to force myself to take a nap just so I wouldn’t have to witness the nonsense I assumed would be inevitable. Frank was equally as terrified (see below).

We did pass the bikers eventually. We did make it home safely (3 hours later), but it is a transportation mode I don’t think I’ll ever choose to take again. Whew. 

Road trip, bitches! 

The inside of the RV

Frank is already found his bed for the night- the only bed of course.

 View of the mountains from the resort.

 Frank being an adorable lady killer in all the crowds.

Litter pupperoo is tuckered out

A Watermelon Kolsch that changed my life

 Family Selfie- did it work?

He's terrified just like I am Frank. Don't worry, we're *almost* home.

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