I’m Kayla, and I live small but sit well. I’ve had three different RV recliners in two rigs. I learned a lot the hard way. Some good. Some not so good. You know what? A chair can make or break a rainy day in a campground. If you want the quick version of every win and fail, you can hop over to my full breakdown of RV recliners I’ve tested for all the gritty details.
For anyone mapping out a riverside stop, River House Acres in North Carolina is a laid-back campground where a good recliner and a better view go hand in hand.
Here’s the deal. I’ll tell you what I used, how it felt, and what broke. I’ll also share little moments. Like the time my dog, Penny, launched into my lap mid-nap during a storm in New Mexico. That poor cup holder never saw it coming.
The setup: my rig and how we sit
- First rig: 2019 Grand Design Reflection 295RL (fifth wheel)
- Current rig: 2022 Winnebago Minnie 2801BH (travel trailer)
- Crew: me, my husband, and Penny the shed monster
- Style: weekend trips, a few month-long loops, some boondock weeks
We read, we stream games, we eat tacos with our feet up. So the recliners get used. A lot.
When the weather traps us inside and the recliner becomes command central for browsing, chatting, and, yes, a little harmless flirting, a candid review of UberHorny can clue you in on how the hookup platform works, what membership costs, and the safety tips that keep road-warrior singles (or curious couples) in control while looking for company between campgrounds.
Recliner #1: Thomas Payne Theater Seating (powered, 60” wide)
This came stock with the Grand Design. Ours was the Thomas Payne theater seat with heat, massage, and blue lights. It ran on 110V. Two USB ports in the console. Cup holders with a tiny LED ring. Kinda fancy, right?
What I loved at first
- The “wall-hugger” slide was smooth. We needed just about 3 inches off the wall.
- The foam felt plush. Not squishy, not hard. Right in the middle.
- The blue LED rings were nice at night. Soft glow. No glare.
- Power recline was quiet. One button. Feet up. Done.
Real moment: Week one, we parked near Sedona. I watched a storm roll in. Put the seat on “heat” and sipped bad campground coffee. It felt like a tiny spa with tires.
What bugged me later
- The “massage” was more buzz than massage. Like a phone on vibrate.
- The heat pad focused on my lower back. It missed my legs.
- The USB ports charged slow. Fine for a phone. Not great for a tablet.
- The bonded leather (PolyHyde) started to peel after year two. Arizona sun did not help. By month 30, the arm tops looked like a lizard shed.
- The footrest had a crumb gap. Chips fell in. I found a lost peanut M&M in there. Not proud.
Little fail: The right motor got noisy at 6 a.m. one morning—like a low hum with a grind. It still worked, but it sounded tired.
Fit and fuss
- Weight: about 160–170 lbs for the pair.
- Entry: came in two pieces; backs slid onto rails and locked.
- Power: needed shore power or our inverter to run. No power = no feet up.
Conclusion on Thomas Payne: comfy early on, but vinyl peel and a weak “massage” killed the joy by year three. If you camp cool and gentle, you might be fine. If you chase sun like we do, plan a cover or a swap.
If you're still weighing the pros and cons, a comprehensive review of Thomas Payne Theater Seating compiles additional user experiences and full product specifications.
The swap: RecPro Charles 67” (manual, cloth, “Oatmeal”)
We pulled the Thomas Payne and put in a RecPro Charles dual recliner, manual pull tabs, cloth fabric. I wanted less peel risk and a seat that worked off-grid.
Install day details
- We used a T25 bit and a socket to free the old bolts from the floor.
- The RecPro came in three boxes. Backs clicked on. Easy.
- It fit through our door without me swearing (rare win).
- Slide clearance was fine. It still needed a couple inches behind it.
What felt good right away
- Manual pull means no power needed. Hello boondocking naps.
- The cloth breathed better than vinyl. No sticky back in summer.
- The foam was firm the first week, then it settled in. After a month, it felt right.
- The center console had deep storage. I hid the remotes, a deck of cards, and… a tiny sewing kit. I’m that person.
Real moment: Rain day in Colorado. We watched a double-header on a hotspot. I pulled the tab, and the seat clicked out fast. No whir. Penny jumped up, spun twice, and passed out. I used her as a blanket.
And the bad stuff
- Pet hair. The cloth grabs it. A lint roller lives in the console now.
- The pull tab was stiff the first week. It loosened up.
- Cup holders are a bit small. My big Yeti tumbler wobbled.
- The console lid needed a quick tighten to stop a wiggle.
Power note
Our unit was manual, so no cord. But I tried a friend’s RecPro power version in their Jayco. The motors were fine, but they also needed 110V. Same inverter deal as the Thomas Payne if you’re off-grid.
Conclusion on RecPro: not fancy, but steady. Cloth ages better, even if it loves lint. For dry camping or sunny states, it just makes sense.
For more real-world data, this in-depth analysis of the RecPro Charles RV recliner gathers long-term customer feedback and durability tests.
A quick detour: two La-Z-Boy wall-huggers in the Minnie
In our Winnebago, we ditched the factory jackknife sofa and put in two La-Z-Boy “Casey” wall-hugger chairs (manual). We bolted them to the subfloor so they wouldn’t walk while towing. They aren’t “RV chairs,” but they fit and feel like home. The Minnie’s bunks came with thin pads that felt like plywood, so I eventually tackled that too—my full thoughts are in my real-life take on an RV bunk mattress.
Pros: dreamy foam, easy pull, classic look. Cons: no console, no cup holders, and we had to add small straps to keep the backs from lifting while towing. Still, movie nights got better fast.
How the chairs handled real life
- Heat: Arizona summer roasted the Thomas Payne vinyl. The RecPro cloth won that round.
- Cold: The Thomas Payne heat pad was cozy but focused. A throw blanket did more.
- Spills: Coffee wiped off vinyl easy. Cloth needed a dab of cleaner and a blot. Faint ring if I was slow.
- Pets: Vinyl didn’t grab hair, but claws could scuff. Cloth hugged hair but hid tiny scuffs.
- Off-grid: Manual wins. Power seats need an inverter or shore power. Simple as that.
What I wish I knew sooner
- Measure everything. Door width, slide clearance, and the space when the seat is fully out.
- Check weight. A heavy double seat can change slide balance. Not by much, but still.
- Look under the chair. If you see a big crumb trap, line it with a thin mat.
- Fabric matters. Sun kills bonded leather fast. Cloth looks plain, but it lasts.
- USB ports on seats are weak. Use a wall charger or a hub for tablets.
- Bolt points: find floor joists and use big washers. Don’t guess over a tank.
Speaking of measuring, one of our favorite long loops winds up through Oregon’s coastal campgrounds. If your recliner day turns into a curiosity about the local after-dark scene, the USA Sex Guide for Oregon lays out the state’s best clubs, bars, and etiquette tips—handy intel so you can skip the guesswork and dive straight into the fun once the stabilizers are down.
- Same goes for bedtime upgrades: precise measuring saved the day when we swapped to an RV king—catch the whole story here.
Quick picks by use case
- Sun chaser or full-timer: RecPro cloth or another true fabric. No peel, less sweat.
- Weekend glam and hookups: Thomas Payne power can feel fancy. Just baby the vinyl.
- Off-grid often: Manual pull tabs. Your future self will thank you.
- Big cups, big gulps: Check the