I thought my old fresh tank would last forever. It didn’t. A hairline crack showed up right by the outlet on a hot day in June, and I learned fast how fast 20 gallons can vanish onto a gravel pad. You could hear the pump sigh like it was tired of my nonsense. Same, buddy.
If you’d like the blow-by-blow of the parts I bought, the mistakes I made, and the photos I’m a little embarrassed to publish, you can skim the separate recap of the whole replacement process over at this tank-swap diary.
So I swapped it for a Class A Customs 42-gallon fresh water tank. (You can check out the exact model on the Class A Customs product page.) I’ve used it for five months now. Three trips. One dusty boondock weekend. Two rainy campground stays. Here’s the good, the bad, and the “well, that was dumb, Kayla.”
The Setup I Started With
- Trailer: 26-foot travel trailer, no slide, pretty light.
- Pump: Shurflo 4008 (the common one).
- Lines: 1/2-inch PEX with SharkBite fittings.
- Fill: Side-fill port with a Camco drinking-water hose.
- Monitor: Swapped to a SeeLevel strip later because the stick-on sensor lied like a toddler.
Want a real-world place to put any fresh-water system through its paces? River House Acres offers riverside sites with clean fill stations and enough elbow room to tinker without the campground rush.
The tank I bought came with a 1.25-inch fill port, a 3/8-inch vent, and 1/2-inch NPT outlet and extra ports. It’s rotomolded plastic. Light but tough. The kind you can knock with your knuckle and hear a solid thud.
Was It Easy To Install? Yes… and No
I’ll be honest. The first hour felt easy. Then I met the vent line.
- I slid a rubber stall mat under the tank to cut vibration.
- I built two simple plywood rails so the belly straps wouldn’t bite into the plastic.
- I wrapped the fittings with Teflon tape, then added a touch of thread sealant. Belt and suspenders.
- I raised the vent hose so it didn’t kink. This fixed “burping” while filling.
Filling was slow at first. I thought the tank was junk. It wasn’t. My vent line drooped, and it choked the air. One zip tie later, the tank took a full fill with a steady glug. You know what? Sometimes it’s me, not the gear.
First Trip: Dry Camping Near Moab
We rolled out dusty and happy. I filled the tank at a city spigot—clear potable water, tested and posted. I mixed 1/2 cup of plain bleach for my first sanitize (about 30 gallons in the tank), let it sit for four hours, then flushed twice. No plastic taste after that. My kids noticed, and they’re picky about water.
The fridge, by the way, was a saga all its own; the wins, woes, and inevitable “oops” moments are captured in my cold-milk survival story right here: RV fridge tale.
Running the sink and the outdoor sprayer felt normal. The pump tone stayed smooth. No shudder. No hunt. I checked under the trailer each morning. Dry as a bone.
Only snag? Weight. A full 42 gallons is heavy. I could feel the trailer settle. Towed fine with our setup, but I now travel with 1/3 tank unless we’re headed off-grid. (When I dragged a Flagstaff rig clear across Arizona, I learned a few extra tricks about managing tongue weight and desert heat—those notes live in this southwest road test.)
Rainy Weekend Test: Hookups, Hot Showers, No Drama
At a state park, I used city water most of the time. I still ran the pump on day two to keep water moving through the tank. Good habit. The tank didn’t sweat too much, but I did get a little condensation patch in humid Alabama. Nothing wild. The rubber mat helped.
We did two showers and a pile of dishes after a muddy hike. The tank didn’t bow in a scary way, but I could see a gentle belly between the straps when full. Normal for this style, but I added a third strap later. Cheap fix, better sleep.
Side note for adults who treat rainy campsite evenings as “screen-time after the kids crash:” a reliable, vetted directory for mature entertainment saves bandwidth and awkward pop-ups. Check out this list of the best sex sites for a quick, well-organized breakdown of reputable platforms, privacy features, and membership costs, so you can decide what’s worth your limited campground Wi-Fi without trial-and-error.
If your route ever swings you north of the border and you’re curious about Vancouver’s after-dark scene, a traveler-friendly resource exists in the form of the USA Sex Guide: Vancouver edition that details local etiquette, neighborhood hotspots, and up-to-date safety tips so you can explore confidently without wasting a minute of precious road-trip downtime.
Small Things I Liked
- The plastic didn’t hold smell after a proper sanitize. That’s huge.
- The 1/2-inch outlet lined up with my PEX run. No weird adapters needed.
- The port threads were clean; the fittings bit well with tape.
- It sat flat on the rails without rocking.
Things That Bugged Me
- The vent port is small, so slow fills if your vent line sags. Keep it high and straight.
- No built-in mounting tabs. Straps only. I made my own blocking, which is fine, but still a note.
- The stick-on sensor read 1/3 when the tank was half full. I swapped to a SeeLevel strip and moved on.
- In heat, the tank swells a bit when topped off. It’s normal, but plan for it. Give it space.
Taste, Flow, And Day-To-Day Use
Taste is clean after a bleach flush. I use a Camco charcoal filter at the spigot and a basic inline strainer before the pump. Flow at the faucet stayed steady. The pump cycles less now that the outlet is straight, not bent like my old cracked tank line.
One odd thing: if I open the sink full blast while someone kills the outdoor sprayer, the pump thumps once. Just a single thud. It doesn’t worry me, but I noticed.
Cleaning And Care (What I Actually Do)
- Sanitize at the start of each season: 1/4 cup bleach per 15 gallons, let sit, then flush.
- Keep the vent high to stop burps while filling.
- Travel with 1/3 tank unless boondocking. Save weight, save brakes.
- Winterize with air through the lines; I don’t fill the fresh tank with pink stuff. I just drain it bone dry and leave the cap cracked for a day.
- Every month in summer, I run a little baking soda mix through the lines and flush. It helps with any hint of funk.
A Quick “Wish I Knew” Moment
I thought more water was always better. It isn’t if your trailer is already near its limit. Check your payload. Forty-two gallons is around 350 pounds. Plan your gear around that, or start tossing firewood back out like I did in a windy rest area. Not my finest hour.
Pros And Cons, Plain And Simple
Pros
- Clean taste after a single sanitize
- Easy plumbing with common 1/2-inch fittings
- No leaks so far, even on washboard roads
- Price felt fair for the size and build
(If you’d rather grab the tank bundled with a pump and fittings, it’s also available as a kit on Ubuy.)
Cons
- Slow fill if the vent line isn’t perfect
- Needs straps and blocking; no tabs
- Basic sensors read funky without an upgrade
- Slight swell when totally full
Would I Buy It Again?
Yes. For a budget-friendly, sturdy fresh tank, this one delivers. It kept us showered, cooking, and sane across three trips. If you want more water, go bigger. If you want less weight, the 30-gallon version is solid too. I might do that next time, just to save a few pounds and some towing nerves.
Here’s the thing: water is