My RV Septic Tank Story: What Worked, What Stunk, and What I’d Buy Again

I camp a lot. Two kids, one dog, and a 32-foot trailer. So yeah, I live with an RV septic tank. And you know what? I don’t hate it. Not every day, anyway.

For the full backstory—including extra details on what gear impressed me, what flat-out stunk, and which products I’d still plunk money down for—check out my RV septic tank story.

Here’s the thing. Folks call it a “septic tank,” but in an RV it’s the black tank (toilet) and the gray tank (sinks and shower). I use both, and I also use a portable waste tank when a site doesn’t have sewer. I’ve had a few oops moments. I’ve also found a rhythm that keeps the smell down and the mess low.

Let me explain.

What I Bought and Why

I use:

  • Camco Rhino 28-Gallon Portable Waste Tank (the low, gray one with big wheels)
  • RhinoFLEX 15-foot sewer hose with a clear 90-degree elbow
  • Happy Campers tank treatment (powder)
  • Valterra Flush King backflush kit
  • A cheap garden hose marked “poo only” with tape

If you want to see the exact tote I’m talking about—complete with those heavy-duty, no-flat wheels and the built-in gate valve—take a look at the Camco Rhino 28-Gallon Portable Waste Tank I rely on.

Why this setup? My trailer’s black tank is 38 gallons. The 28-gallon tote is heavy when full, but I can still move it. I tried a 36-gallon tote once. Never again. It pulled my shoulder and scraped on speed bumps. I learned fast.

Swapping out the fresh-water side of the system gave me even more plumbing perspective—here’s what actually happened when I replaced my RV water tank—and a few of those lessons carried over to my black-tank routine.

First Time Out: The State Park Test

We camped at Keystone State Park in June. No sewer at the site. Day three, the toilet started to “gurgle.” Not scary, just a hint. Time to dump.

Some of the habits I leaned on here I’d already drilled during a long desert haul—my Flagstaff RV trip across Arizona—so the workflow felt familiar.

I filled the black tank to about two-thirds with water first. This matters. A dry dump can clog. Then I hooked the RhinoFLEX hose from the trailer to the portable tank. I opened the vent on the tote (tiny cap on the top). The clear elbow showed a brown stream (gross but helpful). It took about 8 minutes.

I capped the tote, hooked the metal handle to my hitch ball, and drove slow—walking speed—to the dump station. No smells in the truck. The big wheels rolled fine on gravel. That part feels weird the first time. You’re towing… well, poop. But it’s okay.

I dumped the tote with the gate valve, rinsed it with the Flush King and the garden hose. Clear water came out. Done. Then I pulled the gray tank to rinse the sewer hose. That little trick keeps the stink way down.

If you ever want a full-hookup spot where the dump station is a quick stroll from your site, check out Riverhouse Acres before your next trip.

What I Liked

  • It didn’t leak. Not even a drip. The gate valve on the Rhino is solid.
  • The clear elbow saved me. I could see when it ran clear while rinsing.
  • It tows slow and steady. Those no-flat wheels matter on rough pads.
  • The size is right. Heavy, yes, but I can manage it without help.
  • Easy to clean. I run water through until it’s clear and let it air dry.

For a deeper dive into what makes this tote tick (and a few quirks I haven’t bumped into yet), check out this comprehensive review of the Camco Rhino Portable Waste Tank.

What Bugged Me

  • Full means heavy. I’m 5'5". I can move it, but I can’t lift it into a truck bed by myself. I roll it.
  • The caps cross-thread if I rush. I have to slow down and line it up.
  • It needs space in the pass-through. It’s not tiny.
  • If you forget the vent? It burps and splashes. I did that once. Only once.

A Mess I Made (So You Don’t)

At Lake Murray, I didn’t snap the bayonet fitting all the way. I saw a slow drip on my shoe. Not a flood, but still gross. Paper towels and bleach wipes saved me. Now I tug the fitting twice to double-check. I also put a puppy pad under the connection when I’m unsure. Cheap insurance.

Does It Smell?

Only when I get lazy. Here’s my routine that keeps things fresh:

  • I add one scoop of Happy Campers after each dump.
  • I always keep 2–3 gallons of water in the black tank. Never leave it bone dry.
  • I dump at two-thirds full, not half. More water means better flow.
  • I rinse with the Valterra Flush King till the clear elbow runs, well, clear.
  • After a trip, I let both hoses dry in the sun. UV helps.

If I stick to this, we’re fine. No rotten egg smell. If I don’t? We all pay.

Winter and Cold Nights

When temps drop, I add a splash of RV antifreeze to the tote after cleaning. I store it upright. I also run a bit through the hose so it doesn’t freeze at the ends. Simple, but it keeps the caps from sticking.

Little Tips That Saved My Back

  • Don’t fill the tote to the brim. Stop at “heavy but safe.”
  • Use rubber wheel chocks so the tote doesn’t roll while you attach the hose.
  • Wear nitrile gloves, then a thin work glove on top. Grip and protection.
  • Keep a “dirty bin” for sewer gear. Nothing else goes in there.
  • If the dump station line is long, go early morning. Fast and calm.

While most of my trip planning centers on dump stations and family-friendly hikes, the grown-ups in our rig occasionally look for a little off-site fun once the tanks are drained and the kids are zonked. If your road swings through Dublin and you’re curious about the local after-dark vibe, the candid rundown at One Night Affair’s USA Sex Guide – Dublin lays out venues, etiquette tips, and safety pointers so you can explore confidently and keep the adventure going long after sunset.

One Odd Thing I Love

The sound. When the tank flush works, you hear a smooth whoosh—no “glugs.” If you hear glugs, open the vent or check for a kink. It’s funny how your ear learns this. Mine did.

Who This Setup Fits

  • Weekend campers at sites with no sewer.
  • Folks who hate moving the whole rig just to dump.
  • People who want a tough tote with simple parts and no gizmos.

Even A-listers coasting down the highway in million-dollar tour buses have to deal with black tanks and dump stations sooner or later; if you’d like a peek at how the rich and famous handle life on the road—and maybe score a few luxe travel ideas while you’re at it—swing by the rundown of star-studded RVing at JustBang’s celebrity travel blog where you can browse insider stories and tips straight from the spotlight.

If you full-time and move weekly, you might go bigger or use a macerator pump. I tried a Flojet pump with a hose to the tote once. It worked, but it was slow and fussy for me. I went back to gravity and the Rhino.

Final Take

I thought I’d hate towing a waste tank. Turns out, I only sometimes hate it. Most days, it’s fine. The Camco Rhino 28-Gallon tote has held up to a year of trips, about 20 dumps, and a few hot Texas afternoons. No cracks. No wild leaks. Just do your rinse, keep some water in the black tank, and don’t rush the caps.

Would I buy it again? Yep. I already did for my sister’s camper. And I gave her the same pep talk: slow hands, open the vent, clear elbow, then gray water to rinse. Simple rhythm, much less drama.