Our whole agenda with this magazine is to sell fellow RVers the crazy idea of actually risking an expensive investment of a declining asset, that won’t have much value 10 years down the road, to actually use it to go down the road. That freedom is leaving those “secure, gated RV resorts (read big city) that list the top ten rule to use their precious hot tub as, “ Please tighten adult diapers,” far behind in a quest for life after retirement.

Bobby’s suggestion is, as we all seem to have over-paid for kitchen cabinet upgrades, is to go beyond the concept of an RVs kitchen being an advantage for fixing inexpensive meals for frugal folks.  If your subscribe to the upper-class notion that some wines do not travel well, you will love her concept of Jed being a gourmet express heading towards experiencing the freshest seafood possible for landlubbers.

Fellow travelers (to steal back a description out of the you-must-be-a-commie days) we meet understand that the price of gas —at the moment— is being manipulated to bring in even higher corporate profits, by monopolistic price fixing, to sell less. We get our own back by boycotting expensive oil and natural gas generated electricity in favor of anti-global warming solar panels. Best of all when figuring in the cost of meals per mile, RV travelers can justify a few extra gallons to head to someplace for a week as Charleston, or Winchester Bay, Oregon, where we can afford to look down upon gourmet diners in the poshest of Manhattan restaurants.  

RV travel connoisseurs understand that to experience truly great dishes may require leaving New Orleans oysters (muddy to my taste) and those (tiny little) crabs of the Eastern Seaboard, or the frozen taste taste of Alaskan King Crabs, behind on what may become a lifetime quest for the best of the best.

My example of buying live oysters direct from “farms” at Charleston and Winchester Bay leads to additional decisions being made when lightly chewing a raw oyster before swallowing. There is nothing to be learned here by macho common-sewers of cocktail sauce disguised “shooters” slipping “past tooth and gum, lookout stomach here it comes,” when comparing the salinity of a particular Coos Bay tidal inlet, or the flavor of Umpqua River oysters grown suspended where salt meets fresh.
Not into oysters, then park your RV in the center of activity and get you daily exercise looking for live Dungeness Crab, dockside, at Charleston for $4 per pound. Or, buy a three-day license, rent a trap, buy a turkey neck, and catch your own. The Marina RV Park has a free crab cooker next door to the laundry.