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I swapped the old saggy couch in our 2017 Grand Design Imagine 2600RB for a RecPro 68" jackknife sofa in “Mahogany.” I’ve lived with it for three months now. Two weekend trips and one full week on the road. Kids, a muddy dog, and one rainy stretch in Tennessee. Here’s how it went, no fluff.
If you’re still shopping, take a peek at the broader selection of jackknife sofas RecPro offers to compare sizes and colors.
P.S. A full spec sheet and unboxing notes live in my dedicated RecPro 68″ jackknife review if you’re into nuts-and-bolts details.

Why I Swapped the Old Couch

Our old sofa was lumpy. The fabric pilled and felt rough on bare legs. It squeaked when you moved. Also, it didn’t pull out flat. We needed a bed for my niece, and my back needed mercy.

A buddy at the park swore by the RecPro jackknife. He said, “It fits, it’s easy, and it looks sharp.” I was sold after I sat on his for five minutes with a coffee. Sometimes you just know, right?
That same buddy had earlier pointed me toward some RV recliners that we trialed on real camps, but in the end the jackknife won out for space-saving.

The Install: Rain, Coffee, and Two Wrenches

We did the install on a wet Saturday. Door clearance was tight. Our entry door is about 26 inches wide. We had to take the back off the sofa to get it inside. It wasn’t hard.

What I used:

• 1/2-inch socket
• Phillips screwdriver
• Furniture sliders
• Painter’s tape

The base comes in two main pieces. We mocked it up in the slide first, taped the floor, and pre-drilled where the brackets hit. It bolted into the same holes our old couch used, which felt like a small miracle. Two people can do this. It took us about 90 minutes, with a snack break.

Tip: Leave about a hand’s width between the sofa and the wall. Ours needed around 9 inches to lay flat without rubbing the paneling.

First Sit: Firm but Friendly

The first sit felt firm. Not hard—just supportive. The faux leather is smooth and a bit cool at first touch. It warmed up fast under a blanket. I’m 5'5", and the seat height worked for me. My husband is 6'2". His knees were a touch high, but he didn’t complain during movie night.

Armrests are simple. No buttons. No power. That’s the point for me. Fewer things to break on the road.

Sleep Test: One Adult, One Kid, Zero Fuss

Let me explain how it sleeps. It pulls flat in one sweep. No wrestling. My niece, who is 10, slept fine. I tried it for a full night on our second trip. I felt the middle hinge a bit on my hip. A thin foam topper fixed that. Without a topper, I’d do one night. With a topper, I’d do a weekend.
If your crew’s sleeping quarters include bunks, my hands-on review of an RV bunk mattress breaks down what to expect comfort-wise.

Size-wise, it’s close to a full bed, but not quite. Two kids? Sure. Two adults? Maybe if you really like each other.

Life With a Dog and Two Snack Monsters

The material wipes clean. Mud, Cheeto dust, hot cocoa—I’ve seen it all now. A damp cloth did the trick every time. I keep a tiny brush to clear the crumbs from the hinge.

One note: on a hot day, the dark color runs warmer near the window. A light throw blanket keeps it comfy. Also, when we hit a rough patch of road, I heard a small squeak from the frame. A bit of felt tape on one bracket stopped it.

Looks: Yes, It Classed Up the Space

It actually made the room look bigger. The lines are clean and low. The “Mahogany” is rich but not shiny. You know what? It made our old dinette look tired. Funny how one new piece calls out the rest.

Little Things That Bugged Me

• The hinge bar can be felt if you sleep on your side without a topper.
• It needs space from the wall, so measure your slide.
• On very hot days, the seat can feel toasty by the window.
• The entry door shuffle was not fun, but we managed.

For readers curious about future upgrades, there’s a detailed owner discussion on swapping a jackknife sofa for theater seating that lays out measurements, bolt patterns, and real-world comfort notes.

Two-Month Check-In: No Peeling, No Sag

No peeling so far. I wipe it down once a week with a mild cleaner. No cracks. No sag. The stitching looks tight. The seat foam bounced back after my nephew used it like a trampoline. I gave him the look, and then I checked the seams—still fine.

Who This Sofa Fits

• Weekend campers who need a real place for a kid or guest to sleep
• Folks who want simple and sturdy over fancy power seats
• People who like easy cleaning and a neat look

Who might not love it:

• Tall adults who need a true queen bed
• Anyone who hates firm seats
• If your slide or wall clearance is tiny

If you’re a solo RVer who occasionally turns that spare sleeping spot into a way to host new friends you meet on the road, you’ll know that finding company in a new city can be its own puzzle. I’ve tested out a few dating and hookup apps while traveling, and my candid rundown of Benaughty’s features, member quality, and safety tools explains how the platform can help you line up casual meet-ups without wasting precious campsite time. Check it out if you want honest pros, cons, and sign-up tips before you swipe.
For instance, if your travels steer you toward Colorado’s Front Range and you’re curious about the local after-dark scene, this no-frills Aurora USA Sex Guide breaks down the city’s best nightlife spots, meet-up etiquette, and safety pointers so you can enjoy a hassle-free night out without playing tourist roulette.

Real Moments That Sold Me

• Rainy night in Chattanooga: we watched a storm roll through. I stretched out with a book. No back ache after an hour. That was new for me.
• Early morning in Asheville: Daisy (our golden) jumped up with wet paws. I sighed, wiped the prints, and it looked like nothing happened.
• A laid-back Sunday at the creek-side pads of Riverhouse Acres campground let us test the sofa during an afternoon nap, and it passed the quiet-time comfort test with flying colors.
• Sleepover Saturday: niece and her friend giggled until midnight on the flat bed. It held steady. No wobble. No squeak.

Quick Pros and Cons

Pros:

• Clean look, easy wipe-down
• Firm support for sitting
• Smooth, one-sweep pullout
• Held up to kids and a dog
• Install took under two hours

Cons:

• You may feel the hinge without a topper
• Needs a few inches from the wall
• Warm in sun-facing spots
• Tight door fit during install

Tips I Wish I Knew

• Measure your door and your slide, twice
• Keep felt tape and furniture sliders on hand
• Add a 1-inch foam topper for guests
• Leave space behind the sofa for airflow and a clean pull-down
• Vacuum the hinge now and then so crumbs don’t grind
• Upgrading your main bed? Check out how our switch to an RV king mattress changed storage and sleep.

My Verdict

I’m glad we bought it. It made our small space feel tidy and calm. It’s firm, it’s simple, and it works. Not perfect, but solid. If you want a fuss-free RV sofa that can handle pets, kids, and road bumps, this one earns its keep.

Would I buy it again? Yes. With the same color. And I’d still stash that little topper in the pass-through, just in case.

I live in a 26-foot travel trailer most weekends. It’s me, my husband, our kid, and a dog that sheds like it’s his job. The stock RV kitchen faucet that came with our 2016 Jayco was short, stiff, and… splashy. I had to turn pots sideways just to fill them. That got old fast.

So I replaced it with a Dura Faucet pull-down RV kitchen faucet. Brushed nickel. Single handle. It looks fancy, but it’s light and meant for RVs, which matters more than looks. If you're curious about how this model stacks up in formal testing, an in-depth third-party review of the Dura Faucet DF-PK100-CP covers flow rate, durability, and long-term reliability.

You know what? It changed our tiny sink life.

Want the full play-by-play of the swap, including the gear list and the rookie mistakes I made? I've got it all documented in this step-by-step faucet swap guide.

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The One I Installed

• Brand: Dura Faucet
• Type: Single-handle pull-down sprayer
• Finish: Brushed nickel
• Flow: About 1.8 GPM with an aerator
• Feels: Mostly plastic body with metal bits, which keeps weight down

I also tried a RecPro faucet in a friend’s rig last summer at Red River Gorge. It felt similar, just a hair shorter. Moen makes pretty ones too, but many are heavy. On thin RV counters, weight is a thing.

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Install Story: Nothing Fancy, Just Real

I did the swap in 25 minutes while the dog watched like it was a cooking show.

• Turned off the pump and city water.
• Put a towel under the sink, because something always drips.
• My RV lines are 1/2-inch. The faucet came with 3/8-inch leads, so I used simple brass adapters.
• The deck plate covered the old three holes. Nice and clean.
• I used the foam gasket that came in the box. No plumber’s putty needed.
• I hand-tightened first, then snugged it. Don’t over-crank. These sinks are not cast iron.

Need a primer before you crawl under the sink? This comprehensive guide to selecting and installing RV kitchen faucets walks through connection sizes, deck plates, and weight considerations.

The one hiccup? The thin countertop let the faucet wiggle. I slid a small plywood shim under the clamp. Rock solid after that.

Side note: Fiddling with supply lines got me thinking about the rest of my plumbing, and when my fresh tank finally sprang a leak I chronicled the complete replacement in this water-tank saga.

Pro tip: Most RV sinks don’t have shutoff valves. If you forget the pump, you’ll get a surprise shower. Ask me how I know.

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Day-to-Day Use: Tiny Sink, Big Help

The pull-down spray head reaches every corner. That alone fixed 80% of my gripes.

• I can blast coffee grounds out of the drain strainer.
• Rinsing berries is easy with the soft spray.
• The “pause” button saves water when we boondock. I soap, pause, rinse. It adds up.
• It fills my Dutch oven without a weird angle.

Now, my sink is shallow. On spray mode, it can mist the counter if I go full power. On city water it’s strong. On the pump, it used to pulse. I unscrewed the aerator, rinsed out grit, and it got smooth again. If you want to get fancy, an accumulator tank helps too, but I’ve done fine without it.

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Road Test: Travel Days Get Weird

Tall faucets can thump when you roll. This one has a soft dock, but the magnet isn’t super strong. On washboard roads near Quartzsite, the sprayer popped loose once and kissed the backsplash. No harm done. Since then, I wrap a Velcro strap around the neck on travel days. I have also used a cozy sock. Don’t laugh—it works.

We gave it a real shakedown on a long weekend at Riverhouse Acres in western North Carolina, and the steady water flow made cleanup easy. While upgrading life inside the rig is great, you might also want to plug into the vibe of whatever town your wheels roll into next—swing by FuckLocal for an unfiltered, locals-only scoop on nearby hangouts, services, and events so you can spend less time searching and more time enjoying the stop. For example, if your next jaunt has you parking up near Fort Worth, the USA Sex Guide to Fort Worth can clue you in on adult-only nightlife spots, etiquette, and local do’s & don’ts so you roll in prepared rather than clueless.

Also, check cabinet clearance. When our slide comes in, the handle gets close to the window trim. It clears, but barely. Worth checking before you buy.

Water spots? Yep, brushed nickel shows them. I keep a cheap microfiber towel by the sink and give it a quick swipe after dishes. Two seconds, done.

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What I Liked

• Pull-down sprayer reaches every corner
• Light weight, so no counter sag
• Easy install with basic tools
• Pause button saves water off-grid
• Smooth handle control, even with cold hands

What Bugged Me

• Spray can mist past a shallow RV sink
• Magnet dock could be stronger
• Finish shows spots (wipe and it’s fine)
• Plastic parts feel, well, plasticky
• Needed a shim to stop wiggle

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Cost, Weight, and Little Gotchas

Mine was about $95. That’s mid-range for RV faucets. It’s lighter than many home faucets, which is good for travel. If you go with a heavy Moen or Kohler, check your counter. Thin laminate plus potholes equals sway.

Adapters are cheap and easy. I keep two spares in the drawer, along with Teflon tape and a tiny basin wrench. If something leaks on a Sunday night at a campground, I’m not waiting till Monday.

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Real Moments That Sold Me

• Camped at Lake Ouachita, I used the soft spray to rinse fish smell off our fillet board. The sink didn’t stink after.
• Morning oatmeal panic? The tall neck fits our pot without turning it sideways.
• Winterizing day, I ran pink antifreeze through the sprayer head. No clogs in spring. Sweet relief.
• My kid filled the dog bowl with one hand and used the pause button like a pro. The dog slurped like he earned it.
• Curious how our water stayed reliably hot through all this? I had a whole adventure with the heater, detailed in my RV hot-water-heater story.

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Tips So You Don’t Swear Under the Sink

• Use a pressure regulator on city water. Saves seals and your sanity.
• Clean the aerator if your pump feels jumpy.
• Add a small wood shim if the faucet wiggles.
• Strap the sprayer for travel days.
• If your sink is super shallow, stick with stream mode for less splash.

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Who Should Get This

• Weekend campers who do real cooking
• Full-timers with shallow sinks
• Folks who boondock and need water control
• Anyone tired of two tiny knobs and a stubby spout

If you cook more than you want to admit—like me—this upgrade is worth it.

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The Short Verdict

I’ve used this RV kitchen faucet for a full season now. It’s not perfect, but it’s a big step up from stock. It saves water. It reaches. It doesn’t sag my counter. And it makes a small sink feel bigger. Honestly, I should’ve done it sooner.

I used to rush my campground showers. Six minutes, tops. I’d wash fast, keep one eye on the steam, and hope the hot water didn’t run out. You know what? I got tired of the stress. So I switched my camper from a 6-gallon tank to a tankless unit.

This is my take after a whole season on the road, from muddy lake days to a frosty week in the Rockies.
If you’d like a second opinion on how a tankless unit actually performs day-to-day, here’s a detailed, boots-on-the-ground review of real hot showers on the road: My RV Tankless Water Heater: Real Life, Real Hot Showers.

To compare my experience with other campers’ feedback, take a look at this comprehensive roundup of RV tankless water heater reviews over on RVing Beginner. It’s a solid resource if you’re still deciding which model to buy.

What I installed (and why)

I replaced my old Suburban tank with a Fogatti-style RV tankless water heater. Same door size, same spot. It runs on propane and needs 12V power from the house battery. I wanted longer showers and less waiting. Also, fewer “Mom, it’s cold!” screams.

Does it give endless hot water? Kinda. It can, but there are a few quirks.

Install day: messy but doable

I’m handy-ish. Not a pro tech. Here’s how it went:

• I shut off propane, water, and the battery.
• Slid the old tank out. It was heavy and a little gross.
• I sealed the opening with butyl tape and a bead of self-leveling sealant.
• Hooked up the propane line and 12V leads. Red to positive. Check twice.
• Used the trim ring to cover gaps. Foam shims helped with the fit.

It took an afternoon and two cups of coffee. I tested for leaks with soapy water. No bubbles. Good sign.
Wondering what really happens when you pull that bulky tank and drop in something new? Here’s a candid play-by-play of the entire swap: I Replaced My RV Water Tank—Here’s What Actually Happened.

First shower test: a win, with a twist

I took the first shower in our driveway. It was a little windy, about 60°F out. I set the heater to 115°F. Then I did something wrong: I mixed hot and cold at the shower handle. The flame shut off for a moment, then came back. That “cold sandwich” hit me right on the shoulders.

Lesson learned: with many RV tankless units, don’t mix at the handle. Set the heater to the temp you want (I like 110–115°F), and run only the hot side. Control flow at the head, not the temp at the handle. After that, it stayed steady.

Second shower? Perfect. Long, cozy, no rush. I even shaved without panic. Fancy.

Camp life tests: dishes, kids, mud, repeat

• After a sandy beach day, I lined up the kids. Back-to-back showers, no wait. No one yelled.
• Dishes after chili night were easy. The hot water didn’t fade. Grease broke down fast.
• I washed the dog outside with the spray port. He hated it. I loved it.

One of our favorite spots to put the endless-hot-water claim to the test was the riverside sites at Riverhouse Acres, where back-to-back showers after tubing all afternoon were bliss.

Keeping everyone clean, cozy, and not the least bit cranky on busy camp days can be a challenge—this firsthand hot-water-heater story breaks down how to make it happen: What Kept Us Clean, Cozy, and Not Cranky.

One hiccup: if I opened the faucet just a tiny bit, the heater didn’t kick on. It needs a minimum flow to fire. I kept the flow moderate and it worked fine.

Cold weather week: still warm, with prep

We camped near Estes Park in late October. Nights dropped below freezing. Our tankless unit still made hot water. But I did a few things:

• I kept the propane full.
• I ran the bathroom vent fan low, so steam didn’t condense everywhere.
• I insulated the water lines near the outer wall.
• I let the water run a few seconds first. It warmed fast, but not instant.

No freeze-ups. No split hoses. My fingers did get numb while hooking up, but that’s on me.

Power and propane: what it really used

The heater sips 12V power for the fan and controller. We boondocked for four days with 200W of solar and a pair of 100Ah batteries. No problem. Propane use felt about the same as running the furnace a bit more at night. Long showers do use propane. That’s normal.

Quick note: if your battery is low, the fan may not run right. Then the flame may cut out. I keep an eye on voltage.

Noise and neighbors

The unit makes a soft whoosh when it lights. My kids didn’t notice. My neighbor in a teardrop didn’t care. Inside the rig, it’s like a small bathroom fan. Not annoying. Just there.

Altitude and wind: the honest part

High alt camps can be tricky. At 8,000 feet, the heater needed a little more flow to stay stable. On one gusty day, the flame hiccuped when the wind hit the service door. I cracked the window on the other side of the RV to balance airflow, and it settled down. Not fancy, but it worked.

What I wish I knew up front

• Don’t mix hot and cold at the handle. Set the heater to your shower temp and leave the faucet on Hot.
• Use a showerhead with a pause switch that doesn’t drop flow too low. Those tiny trickle heads may cause the flame to stop.
• Expect a quick burst of cool when someone opens a tap in the kitchen. It returns in a few seconds.
• In winter, keep lines warm and use the unit’s freeze protection if your model has it. Mine has a small heater inside when plugged in.
• Carry spare fuses. Ask me how I know.

The good stuff

• Long showers. Like, actual long showers.
• No more tank wait times.
• Dishes go faster with steady hot water.
• Lighter weight than the old tank unit.
• Simple control panel. Set the temp. Done.

The trade-offs

• Needs a minimum water flow. A tiny trickle won’t fire it.
• A short “cold sandwich” can happen if you mix or someone opens another tap.
• Install takes sealing and patience.
• Uses propane while running, of course.
• At high altitude or heavy wind, it may need a little more care.

A quick real-world day

Morning in Moab. Red dust everywhere. I set the heater to 112°F. I took a 10-minute shower, then my partner took one right after. No pause. I washed the breakfast pan. Still hot. The dog drooled. That last part is unrelated, but true.

Later, we broke camp, and I remembered how fast the system clears. No big tank to drain. I liked that.

Who should get one

• Families who take turns and don’t want to schedule showers around a 6-gallon tank.
• Folks who cook a lot and wash a lot. Chili night crew, I see you.
• Boondockers who can manage battery and propane. It sips power but still needs juice.

While we’re on the topic of keeping everyone—especially the resident dish-scrubber—happy during life on the road, some traveling couples like to add a bit of adult-only social time once the rig is parked. If that sounds intriguing, check out this online hub for adventurous wives who are interested in meeting other like-minded locals near the campground; the site offers location-based forums and casual meetups that can spice up your itinerary almost as much as an endless hot shower.

Likewise, if your winter escape route has you cruising Florida’s Atlantic coastline, you’ll find that the surf town of Jupiter offers more than just sunrise beach walks; the USA Sex Guide Jupiter provides candid local intel on the best clubs, bars, and discreet spots so you can plan an adults-only evening with confidence and skip the guesswork.

If you camp in deep winter, consider a model with recirculation or a small mixing loop. It helps with that cold sandwich. Truma’s higher-end units handle mixing better, but they cost more. I stuck with my unit and learned a few tricks.

Final call

I’m keeping my RV tankless water heater. It gave me comfort and time back. It’s not magic, and it took a week to learn its quirks. But now it’s set-and-forget most days.

Would I swap back to a tank? No way. Not after I got used to actual hot showers that don’t clock out early.

If you want another camper’s perspective before pulling the trigger, don’t miss this detailed [best RV tank

Why Blinds Matter More Than You Think

Light is boss in a small space. One bad glare, and the whole rig feels grumpy. Heat sneaks in through glass. So do nosey campground lights. You know what? Good blinds fix a lot of that, and they don’t weigh much.

When you’re working remote or catching up with friends on video, controlled lighting is the difference between a washed-out face and a crisp picture. I’ve started hosting weekly catch-ups straight from the RV using InstantChat’s cam-to-cam rooms, a free browser-based platform where you can pop into a private HD video call without downloads—perfect when campground Wi-Fi finally plays nice.

For a real-world reminder of how fast sun and reflections can change inside temps, park beside the water at Riverhouse Acres and notice how the right shades instantly mellow the glare.

For campers who want the blueprint of the whole blind experiment, I chronicled every step and cost in this in-depth write-up.

I’ve owned three types in my trailer and our Class C. Some were great. Some made me want to toss them out at a rest stop.

What Came With My Rig (And Why I Replaced It)

My Class C came with thin aluminum mini blinds. The old-school kind with the cord and the little wand. They looked fine on day one. But on rough roads near Amarillo, they rattled like a bag of forks. At night, street lights sneaked through every slat. Privacy? Eh. Not great. And if your road itinerary ever routes you through Mansfield, Ohio, and you’re planning an adults-only evening off the campsite, solid window coverage becomes even more important; swing by this Mansfield USA sex guide for straight-shooting intel on local clubs, lounges, and privacy etiquette so you can focus on fun instead of logistics.

In our first trailer, we had pleated day/night shades with strings. White on top, darker on bottom. Cozy look. Soft light. I liked them. Till the cords started to fray. One morning in Utah, I pulled the shade and heard a snap. The right side dropped like a sad curtain. I said a word my mom wouldn’t love.

I did a quick fix with a restring kit (0.9 mm cord, tiny springs). I sat at the picnic table for 45 minutes threading holes like a patient spider. It worked, but it wasn’t my favorite camp chore.

What I Installed Next

I switched the main cabin to MCD Duo roller shades. They have two parts: a solar screen for daytime, and a blackout shade for night. Pricey, yes. My largest window cost about the same as a decent cooler. The smaller ones were more reasonable.

In the bedroom, I tried RecPro pleated night-only shades. Cheaper than custom rollers. Dark enough for sleep. They matched the beige walls too, which felt nice on rainy days. That same week we retired the saggy couch and installed a RecPro 68″ jackknife sofa; the neutral vinyl ties in nicely with the shades.

For the tiny kitchen window by the sink, I got brave and cut down an IKEA blackout roller. I trimmed the tube with a hacksaw, used fresh brackets, and said a small prayer. It worked. But the fabric edges did fuzz a bit.

Install Story (With Honest Notes)

Measure twice. Then measure again when you’re not hangry.

• I went with an inside mount on the dinette window. Took 1/8 inch off the width so the cassette didn’t scrape the frame.
• Used self-tapping screws into the header. Pre-drilled first, because aluminum bites back.
• On the slide-out side window, my drill wouldn’t fit. A right-angle drill saved me. Worth borrowing if you can.
• The bottom of the roller shade needed hold-down clips so it wouldn’t swing while driving. The first set creaked. I swapped to magnetic tabs. No more thunks over speed bumps.

One more tip: if your walls aren’t square (mine weren’t), cheat the cassette a hair to the side that looks straighter. Your eyes forgive a lot when the edges line up.

Life With Each Blind Type

• Aluminum minis: bright in the morning, noisy on the highway, easy to wipe, tricky to keep level.
• Pleated day/night shades: warm feel, soft light, strings can tangle, decent privacy, okay heat control.
• MCD roller duo: clean look, silent, true blackout at night, better heat control in summer. Worth it if you boondock in hot places.

Real day test: We camped near Moab in July. 102 degrees, no shade. With the solar screen down and the AC running low, the living area stayed about 4 degrees cooler than with the old blinds. Not a lab test—just me, a cheap thermometer, and sweaty shoulders. But I felt the difference.

Night test: In a Walmart lot, the blackout kept the rig cave-dark. My husband slept past sunrise, which never happens. In the bedroom with the RecPro pleated night shade, it was almost as dark, but a little glow poked around the edges.

What Bugged Me (Because Nothing’s Perfect)

• Dust sticks to pleats. I used a paintbrush to sweep the folds, then a damp cloth. It’s fine, just slow.
• Roller shade light gaps: a sliver of light runs down the sides. If you need total blackout, add side tracks or use a thick valance.
• Strings and kids don’t mix. My niece pulled a day/night cord like it was a fun toy. It wasn’t. I switched to cordless where she plays.

Also, winter note: cellular or tight blinds can trap moisture. In Montana, we got a little condensation along the bottom edge. I crack the shade an inch at night now. No more drips.

Small Joys I Didn’t Expect

The solar screen lets me see trees without feeling baked. Morning coffee tastes better when the light is kind. I know that sounds silly, but talk to me after a week of harsh sun lines across your table.

Settling into our new loungers proved the point—our recliners got the same real-trip test and made slow mornings even better.

And the quiet—oh, the quiet. No clack-clack when we hit a pothole. You can hear cards shuffle instead of metal chatter. Feels calmer, like the rig took a deep breath.

What I’d Buy Again

• Main cabin: MCD Duo rollers. Pricey, yes. But they look clean, run smooth, and protect against heat.
• Bedroom: RecPro pleated night shade. Cozy and dark enough for sleep. Budget-friendly.
• Kitchen: a trimmed roller holds up to steam and soap splashes. Just seal the cut edge with a little clear tape.

Quick Tips That Saved Me Headaches

• Measure width at top, middle, and bottom. Use the smallest.
• If you drive a lot, add hold-downs or magnets.
• Keep a spare restring cord in the toolbox.
• Clean with a soft brush first, then wipe.
• In hot areas, choose blackout or a good solar screen. Your AC will thank you.
• In cold weather, crack shades a bit to fight condensation.

Final Take

If you want silence, smooth use, and real light control, go with quality roller shades in the main space. Keep pleated night shades where you want cozy and cheap. Skip rattly metal slats unless you never move or you love the vintage look.

Would I do it all again? Yep. I’d just buy the right blinds sooner and save myself that roadside rattle soundtrack.

For detailed insights into MCD's roller shades, including their features and benefits, you can visit their main website.

You know what? A hose sounds boring. Until it ruins a weekend. I’ve had leaks, weird taste, and one crunchy freeze. So I tried three hoses on real trips and kept notes like a nerd. It helped. If you're sorting through the wider market, this discussion on the best drinking water hoses among RV enthusiasts puts my three picks into a broader context.
For the full blow-by-blow on why each hose made (or missed) the cut, you can skim my more granular RV hose test notes.

What I used on the road

• Camco TastePURE, 25 ft (white)
• Camco EvoFlex, 50 ft (blue)
• zero-G RV/Marine, 25 ft (gray fabric)

I used them over one season. Spots: a windy week in Moab, a damp KOA near Nashville, two salty nights in the Keys, and one cold snap in Colorado.
Another perfect proving ground was the riverside hookups at Riverhouse Acres, where the consistent pressure let me focus entirely on taste and flow.

Setup that never let me down

I hook up the same way each time. Spigot, brass Y-valve, pressure regulator set near 45–50 psi, inline filter, then the hose, then the RV. All 3 hoses fit the usual 3/4-inch garden threads.
If you’re convinced the hose isn’t the whole story and suspect your on-board tank might be adding its own flavor, here’s what unfolded when I replaced my RV water tank.

Quick-connects made life easy. I use lead-free brass ones. Snap, done. No wet shoes. If you camp a lot, add those. Trust me.

Taste and smell: does the water taste weird?

• Camco TastePURE: Clean enough, but I got a faint “plastic” note on the first day in heat. It faded after a full flush. In the Keys, it was fine by day two.
• Camco EvoFlex: Best taste out of the box. No smell. I even did coffee straight from it in Moab. No regrets. (For gear-head details, this comprehensive review of the Camco EvoFlex RV water hose breaks down its materials and flow tests.)
• zero-G RV/Marine: Also clean-tasting, but let it run for a minute. First burst felt warm and stale in the sun.

I still use an inline filter. It helps with taste and grit. Plus, campground water can be… moody. Pairing those hoses with a modern pull-down setup really elevated the kitchen side of things—here’s the scoop on swapping my RV kitchen faucet.

Pressure and flow: can you shower like a human?

All three kept up with my little water heater. When I finally upgraded to a tankless model, flow became even more critical—this is what I learned from installing a tankless RV water heater. With the regulator set near 45–50 psi, the EvoFlex and zero-G felt a touch stronger at the shower head. The white Camco did fine, but it kinks easier, and that drops flow.

Funny note: I used to think hose length didn’t matter. Then I hit Site 42 in Nashville, where the spigot sat way across the pad. My 25 ft hose laughed at me. The 50 ft EvoFlex saved the night.

Kinks, coils, and storage

Untangling hose kinks all season got me thinking: not every kink needs to be fixed—some are fun to explore once the rig door is shut. If you’re curious about the other kind of kinks, the community on Kinkd makes it easy to meet like-minded adults and compare notes, turning those curiosities into connections.

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• Camco TastePURE (white): Stiff when cold. Strong coil memory. It kinks if you twist it. I had to lay it flat in the sun to calm it down.
• Camco EvoFlex (blue): Best at not kinking. Coils nice. Easy to wrangle. My hands were thankful.
• zero-G RV/Marine (gray fabric): Super light and flexible. It won’t kink hard, but it can pinch under the RV tire. Don’t run it under wheels.

I roll hoses on a cheap plastic reel. Keeps grit off. My past self tossed hoses in the pass-through. My current self hates past me.

Cold snaps and heat waves

In Colorado, it dipped to 28°F one night. The white Camco got stiff like a stick. The EvoFlex stayed bendy and didn’t crack. The zero-G went a little crunchy, but it bounced back at noon. I learned to disconnect and drain at night when it’s near freezing. A tiny heat tape works too if you stay longer.

In summer sun, any hose heats water fast. I now run the first gallon on the ground. Then I fill bottles.

Durability after a season

• Camco TastePURE: No cracks. Some scuffs. The washer at the female end flattened, so I swapped it. Easy fix.
• Camco EvoFlex: Looks almost new. Still flexible. No leaks. This one feels like the keeper.
• zero-G RV/Marine: No leaks, but the fabric snagged on a metal step. It didn’t tear, but it made me pause. I now route it along the edge and use one plastic clamp.

I also clean hoses at the start of the season. A mild bleach mix, then a long flush. It keeps funk away.

Real moments that sold me

• Moab dust storm: The EvoFlex didn’t kink while I was half-blind in blowing sand. I got hooked up fast and hid inside. Small win.
• Nashville KOA, Site 42: The 50 ft length saved me. Without it, I’d be hauling jugs. Hard pass.
• Florida Keys heat: The zero-G felt light and easy after a sweaty drive. My shoulders thanked me.
• Cold Colorado morning: I watched the white hose turn stiff while the blue one stayed soft. That decided my “main” hose.
  All of this tinkering really kicked off after my old unit croaked mid-trip—here’s the whole hot-water-heater saga if you’re curious.

What I liked

• EvoFlex: Best balance—flexible, clean taste, no drama. My daily driver.
• zero-G: So light. Great for quick stops or when you’re tired and cranky.
• Camco TastePURE: Cheap, common, and safe. A solid backup.

What bugged me

• Camco TastePURE: Kinks and coil memory. A little plastic taste at first in heat.
• zero-G: Fabric can snag. Don’t drag it over sharp edges.
• All hoses: If you forget a fresh washer, you’ll get that slow, smug drip. Keep spares.

Small tips that make big difference

• Keep spare rubber washers and one screen washer.
• Use a pressure regulator. Your plumbing will live longer.
• Quick-connects save time and attitudes.
• Don’t use your black tank rinse with the same hose. Keep a separate, bright-colored one for that job.
• Flush the hose when it’s been in the sun. That first burst is hot and stale.

So, which one should you get?

• Full-time or cold weather? Camco EvoFlex, 50 ft. It just works.
• Weekend trips or you hate heavy gear? zero-G RV/Marine, 25 ft.
• Tight budget or backup hose? Camco TastePURE, 25 ft.

Honestly, I carry two. A 50 ft EvoFlex for reach, and the 25 ft zero-G for quick setups. It covers every site I’ve hit. And when a hose saves your morning coffee from tasting weird, you remember it.

I live part-time in a 26-foot travel trailer with my husband, two kids, and one sassy dog. We camp in the desert a lot. We also park at state parks with water hookups. So a water pump matters. A lot.

I’ve used a few pumps now. My old stock pump got loud and weak after one summer. I swapped it for a Shurflo 4008 Revolution (3.0 GPM, 55 PSI). I’ve also tested a Seaflo 42 series in my friend’s rig. And I used a Flojet 3.3 GPM in my last trailer. So yeah, I’ve cleaned many little strainers and I’ve heard the clack-clack sound at 2 a.m. more than I care to admit.

You know what? A pump can make your rig feel like home. Or it can make you want to throw a wrench.
You can read the unfiltered play-by-play of every pump swap and roadside fix in my detailed RV water pump saga.

What I Bought and Why

I went with the Shurflo 4008. It’s common, not pricey, and easy to find at RV stores. If you’d like a deeper dive into how the Shurflo line performs in real-world conditions, check out this hands-on Shurflo water pump breakdown.
I also added:

• A clear Shurflo strainer on the inlet
• An Oxygenics shower head (low flow, good pressure)
• A small accumulator tank later (Shurflo 182-200), to smooth out pulses

I mounted the pump on a rubber mat and used soft hoses. That helped with noise.

Install Day: A Small Mess and a Win

It took me about 40 minutes. I turned off the 12-volt power, drained the lines, and put towels under the old pump. I used two 1/2-inch quick-connect fittings and Teflon tape on the threads. I checked the little arrow on the pump head so the water flowed the right way. First time, I forgot one clamp. Water sprayed. I laughed, then fixed it.

I primed the pump by opening the kitchen faucet. It pulled water in after about 10 seconds. Not bad.

Tip: snug, not gorilla tight. These fittings crack if you crank them.

Real Life, Real Water

Boondocking near Moab, we washed dishes for five. I ran the sink steady for 15 minutes. The flow stayed even. It wasn’t fire-hose strong, but it did not surge. That’s the win.

Shower time matters with kids. With the Oxygenics head, I got a warm shower that felt steady. Not hotel-level, but not a sad drip, either. Hair rinse? Fine. During a hookup stay at the peaceful Riverhouse Acres campground, the same pump pushed city pressure through our lines so smoothly it felt like a real sticks-and-bricks bathroom. On cold nights in Colorado, the pump still held steady. We wrapped the lines with foam sleeves, so that helps too.

Does it wake the kids? It used to. Not now. The rubber mat, soft hoses, and that small accumulator cut the noise. It sounds more like a hum than a knock. If the bathroom door’s closed, it’s a hush.

The Quiet Thing… and the Not-So-Quiet Thing

I said it’s quiet. And it is. But also, in the dead of night, when someone flushes, you still hear a low thrum through the floor. The pump sits under our kitchen cabinet. Wood carries sound. I can live with it, but I notice it.

Also, at a slow trickle, the pump did quick short bursts. Cha-cha-cha. The accumulator helped a lot. Now it stays on smoother at low flow, then shuts off clean.

Power Draw and Battery Life

On our pair of 6-volt batteries, the pump’s draw for normal use hasn’t been a problem. I did see my battery monitor dip when I ran it long, like when we filled jugs. My cheap 10-amp fuse blew once when the kids ran sink and shower at the same time. I keep spare fuses now. Easy fix.

While chasing electrical gremlins or coordinating a late-night parts run, I often need to ping friends for quick advice from the middle of nowhere. A concise rundown of the top 3 best chat apps on the market can help you pick a messenger that’s light on data and reliable off-grid, so you can get real-time answers even when you’re boondocking off the beaten path.

Small Stuff That Matters

• The strainer is like a lint trap. I twist it off and rinse it each month. Sand and grit collect fast if you fill from ranch pumps or old spigots.
• I keep a spare pump head seal kit in the tool bin. One time, a little check valve inside stuck and let city water backflow a bit. That was not fun. The kit fixed it.
• I put foam tape between the pump and the wood wall. Less rattle.
• Thinking about upgrading the tank itself? I recently documented exactly what happened when I replaced our RV water tank.

Winterizing and Weird Weather

We winterized in November with RV antifreeze. I set the pump to suck from the jug. It pulled pink stuff through the lines without a fuss. It did cough for a second on start. No big deal. In a late cold snap, the pump still started fine. I do crack the cabinet door open to let warm air in. Little habits like that keep parts happy.

Some Things I Didn’t Love

• The fittings feel a bit cheap. The plastic threads can cross-thread if you rush.
• At very low flow, the pulsing happens without an accumulator.
• You can still hear it at night, even with padding.
• If you hate maintenance, the strainer will annoy you. It needs love every few weeks, especially if you boondock.

Quick Compare: Shurflo vs Seaflo vs Flojet

• Shurflo 4008 (my current): Good price, easy to find, decent pressure, simple install. Quieter with an accumulator. Great for weekend to mid-level full-time use.
• Seaflo 42 series (friend’s trailer): Cheaper, a bit louder in my ears. The flow was fine, but the pulses were stronger at slow trickle. It’s a “get the job done” pump.
• Flojet 3.3 GPM (my last rig): Smoother out of the box, slightly quieter than my Shurflo on wood, but parts were harder for me to find on a road trip in Utah.

If you’d like another perspective on selecting the right Shurflo for your setup, this concise primer on RV pump sizing and installation is worth a look: picking the best Shurflo RV water pump.

If you want very quiet, my buddy swears by a Jabsco pump. It’s pricier. It sounded whisper-soft in his van build. I almost went that way, but my wallet said no.

Real Moments When It Helped

• Early morning oatmeal in Zion: I filled pots fast without waking my daughter. Sweet peace.
• Sandy feet at Lake Powell: The outside sprayer stayed strong enough to rinse off the mess. No more grit in the bed.
• Late night tooth brushing: The pump didn’t chatter with the accumulator on. I actually noticed the silence. Funny how that feels like luxury.

When you’re road-tripping with your partner, not every stop is about dumping tanks and topping off fresh water—sometimes you want a grown-ups-only night out. If your route ever swings through central Indiana, this detailed USA sex guide to Kokomo highlights the local clubs, lounges, and discreet meet-ups worth your time, so you can skip the guesswork and spend more of your precious campground downtime actually enjoying the evening.

Setup Tips That Worked For Me

• Use a rubber mat under the pump. Old yoga mat works.
• Soft braided hoses reduce chatter. Hard PEX can drum.
• Add that small accumulator. It smooths pulses and sound.
• Keep spare fuses and tape in a small bin labeled “water.”
• Check the arrow on the pump head. Ask me how I know.
• Not sure which hose to trust? I field-tested three different RV water hoses, and you can see which one actually worked in this comparison.

Who This Pump Fits

• Weekend campers: Yes. Easy, cheap, plenty of flow for showers and dishes.
• Full-time families: Also yes, but add the accumulator and noise pads. Keep a seal kit with you.
• Van builds: Maybe. Space is tight, and a quieter pump might be worth the cost.

The Bottom Line

Do I trust my Shurflo 4008? Yes. It’s not perfect, but it’s steady. It’s easy to fix on the road. With a mat, soft hoses, and a small tank, it feels smooth and mostly quiet.

Would I buy

Hey, I’m Kayla. I live on the road a lot. I’ve had two RV washer dryer combos in two different rigs. I actually used them, like… a lot. Mud, towels, baby clothes, dog blankets—you name it. So here’s the good, the bad, and the “why is the breaker tripping again?”

If you’d like an even deeper dive into the pros, cons, and messy realities, you can read my full write-up on RV washer-dryer combos.

What I Used and Where I Put It

• In our 2019 Grand Design Reflection 303RLS, I used a Splendide WD2100XC. It’s the vented one.
• In our older Class C (small closet, tiny life), I ran an Equator EZ 4400 N in ventless mode.

Both fit fine, but the Splendide felt more “RV-ready.” It slid into the front wardrobe spot. I had washer/dryer prep, but I still cut a 4-inch vent hole in the sidewall for the Splendide. I measured three times. My hands still shook. I used a hole saw, butyl tape, and a bead of Dicor to seal the outside vent. It took me a Saturday and two cups of coffee.

The Equator went in a little hallway closet by the bath. No vent. Simple. That part was nice.

First Wash Nerves (And Early Wins)

You know what? The first wash felt like a little miracle. No laundromat. No pocketful of quarters. I ran a small load of trail clothes after a muddy hike in Zion. Splendide washed and dried them in about two hours. Not fast, but I didn’t have to leave the rig. I folded clothes while soup simmered. It felt cozy.

With the Equator, the first week was sweet too—quiet wash, easy controls. But the dry time stretched longer. Shirts came out warm but a touch damp. I had to hang two or three on a door hook to finish. It worked, just slower.

Real Life Tests That Made Me Believe (Or Grit My Teeth)

• Rain week on the Oregon coast: I washed towels every other day. Splendide handled two towels, a hoodie, and socks in one go. Dry time ran 75–90 minutes. The vent sent steam outside, so the rig stayed comfy.
• Dusty boondock near Moab: I tried a wash on the generator. It ran, but I watched my power. The dryer heat pulled a chunk of amps. I shut off the water heater and didn’t use the microwave. It finished, but I kept it small. Lesson learned.
• Baby blowout in Idaho (sorry, it happens): Quick wash, extra rinse. I used just a tablespoon of HE liquid. No suds overflow. That spin cycle? It’s strong. If the rig isn’t level, you’ll feel it. I now check the bubble level before pressing Start.
• Wet dog blanket: Splendide did it, but it sounded like a small plane taking off during spin. I paused, rearranged, and ran an extra spin. It worked, but I won’t shove a big blanket in again. My ears said no.

Power and Water Notes You’ll Care About

• On 30-amp hookups, I can wash and dry, but I don’t run the A/C and microwave at the same time. I tripped the breaker once when my husband made coffee during a dry cycle. Oops. We laughed. Then we reset it.
• The Splendide heats its own water. So your RV water heater can chill. But the machine draws more power while it warms things up.
• Water use felt like about a sink full and then some. Let’s call it 8–13 gallons per wash, depending on cycle. On full hookups, no stress. On a small gray tank? Two loads can fill it fast. I learned to do a single load, then dump.

Keeping the water flowing smoothly matters just as much as keeping clothes clean, so I also documented my RV water pump story—what worked and what didn’t if you’re troubleshooting pressure issues.

If you’re ever near western North Carolina, the full-hookup sites at Riverhouse Acres are a perfect low-stress spot to run a marathon laundry day without worrying about power or tank space.

Vented vs. Ventless: The Real Gap

• Vented (my Splendide): Faster dry times. Less humidity. Clothes come out actually dry.
• Ventless (my Equator, set that way): Longer dry time. The rig felt a bit damp unless I cracked a window or ran the fan. Clothes sometimes felt “almost dry.” Not bad, just not crisp.

If you have room to vent, I’d go vented. If you can’t, ventless still beats a laundromat in a storm.

Noise, Vibration, and That Little Shake

It’s not silent. Wash is fine. Spin is loud. In a fifth wheel, I felt a gentle thump-thump during high spin. If we weren’t level, it got worse. Rubber pads under the feet helped. So did smaller loads. On the Class C, the Equator was quieter but still wiggly. I wouldn’t nap during spin, but I could read.

Care That Saves Headaches

• Use HE detergent—tiny amounts. I usually use one tablespoon. For pods, I cut them and use half.
• Don’t overstuff. Combos like small, honest loads.
• Clean the lint filter after every dry. For the vented Splendide, I also vacuum the vent hose monthly.
• Leave the door open a bit after a wash. No musty smell.
• I run a hot wash with a cup of white vinegar once a month. Keeps it fresh.
• A kink-free drinking water hose makes tank fills faster and less messy. I put three popular hoses to the test and shared what actually worked in this comparison.

The Good Stuff

• No laundromat runs. Huge win.
• Wash and dry in one tub. Set it and forget it.
• Vented dry is faster than I expected for an RV.
• It fits in small spaces, even with hangers and shoes trying to steal the spot.

The Not-So-Great Stuff

• Dry time is still slow. Plan on two hours for a mixed load.
• Spin is noisy. The rig can shake if you’re not level.
• Ventless mode adds moisture. You’ll want a fan or window open.
• Power juggling is real on 30 amps. No hair dryer during the dry cycle.
• Lint builds up faster than in a house unit.

Sometimes you need a little entertainment while that two-hour cycle spins on. If scrolling social media feels stale, you might enjoy my candid look at a very different kind of online pastime—check out my in-depth Jerkmate review to see pricing details, model quality, and smart privacy tips for streaming from campground Wi-Fi.

While we’re on the theme of finding grown-up fun once the laundry’s done, I’ve also bookmarked a few resources for when the wheels roll into new states. If your route ever takes you through Oklahoma and you’re curious about its after-dark scene beyond the campground, this Oklahoma sex guide lays out reputable venues, local regulations, and traveler-friendly etiquette so you can decide where to park the rig for a laid-back drink or a spicier night out.

Little Tips I Wish Someone Told Me

• Sort by fabric, not just color. Towels alone. T-shirts alone. It balances better.
• Use two wool dryer balls. They help lift fabric and speed dry time a bit.
• If a load feels damp at the end, run a 20-minute dry with the door cracked for a minute first. It helps reset humidity inside the drum.
• Label your panel with a tiny note: “Dryer on? No microwave.” Saves arguments.

Who Should Get One

• Full-time or long-trip RVers who hate laundromats.
• Families who do small, frequent loads.
• Folks who have hookups most weeks and don’t mind slower dry times.

Who might pass? Weekend campers with tiny gray tanks and no power to spare. Or anyone who wants hotel-fast dry times. This is more “steady and chill” than “speed race.”

My Bottom Line

I’d buy the Splendide WD2100XC again in a heartbeat if I can vent it. It’s steady, strong, and RV-friendly. The Equator EZ 4400 N worked when space was tight, but I had to time things and crack windows. Both saved me from coin-op drama, which is worth a lot to me.

If you want to see the precise unit I’m talking about, the Splendide WD2100XC is available through RV Upgrade Store, and there’s an in-depth overview with specs and user impressions on WasherDryerComboz.