🛻 An RV, Two Kids, and Zero Chill: A Wild & Wonderful Coastal Road Trip
- ashleemaez
- Aug 11
- 5 min read
Spoiler: it involved fairytale forests, birds with attitude, and a battery jump-start
🌲 Our First Stop: Gualala
We rolled into Gualala Point Regional Park with wide eyes and even wider dreams. The campground backed right up to the river, which was… beautiful. And terrifying. If you’ve ever camped with a toddler who has zero sense of danger and 100% determination, you get it. I spent most of the evening half-enchanted by the trees, half-nervous Egan was going to yeet himself off the ledge.
Also, birds. Big ones. Staring us down while we made dinner like we were on their turf. Still — it had a kind of magic to it. Mossy, wild, a little chaotic. In other words: our vibe.
That night, we stopped at the local market — the cutest little spot — and stocked up on fresh seafood: ahi tuna, shrimp, salmon, and pasta for a dinner that somehow felt both rustic and fancy. We cooked under the trees, surrounded by birds giving us serious side-eye, while I kept one hand on dinner and the other on Egan. It was chaotic and peaceful all at once — honestly, a little magical.
🍳 A Dead Battery & the Best Accidental Breakfast
The next morning, we discovered the RV battery was dead. I kept losing service while trying to talk to Outdoorsy (but they were amazing and on it the entire time), and since we were already running late for our Skunk Train reservation, we decided to ask another camper for help. Thankfully, they jumped us without hesitation — RV community, you’re the real MVPs.
We hit the road (a little flustered, a lot grateful), drove into town, wrestled the RV into a parking spot, and made it to Trinks for breakfast. Ocean views, strong coffee, and the breakfast tacos of your dreams. Seriously — try the breakfast tacos. You won’t regret it.
🚂 Skunk Train Magic
We rolled into Fort Bragg after our original Skunk Train reservation had left the station. I had managed to leave a voicemail and send a quick email in a cell service miracle moment — and bless the Skunk Train staff, they got it.
Not only did they let us jump on the next ride, but they saved our VIP picnic lunches too.
And the ride? Pure magic.
Open-air cars, redwoods rushing by, snacks and a bar on board, and just enough movement to lull the kids into a popcorn-induced trance. We wandered from car to car, soaking up the breeze and pretending we lived in a storybook. It was peaceful, awe-inspiring, and hands-down one of the highlights of our trip.
In full transparency — both the Skunk Train and the RV were collaborations, and I’ve shared videos from both on my Instagram if you want to see what it looked like in real life. If you’re anywhere near Fort Bragg with kids — or even without — do the Skunk Train. Trust me.
🌲 Campground Charcuterie & The Great Sand Takeover
After the Skunk Train, we made our way to Van Damme State Park, where there were no hookups — so I officially earned my “filled the RV water tank” badge. I made an executive decision: everyone eats outside. No crumbs in the RV, no dishes in the sink. Just fresh air, paper plates, and no regrets.
The kids had mac and cheese, and we threw together a simple charcuterie board for the adults (no olives, don’t judge). We ate under the trees, soaked in the quiet, and for a minute, it felt like maybe I had this whole RV travel thing figured out.
Then we crossed the street to the beach, and the kids went feral — in the best way. Sticks, rocks, puddles, and a whole lot of sand. It was beautiful and chaotic and gave them exactly what they needed to burn off the day.
And then… I tried to bathe them in the RV shower.
There was water everywhere, sand in places I won’t name, and more than one scream (from all parties). But they came out warm and clean-ish, and sometimes that’s enough.
🌤 A Solo Walk, Finally
The next morning, I slipped out early to find cell service — and found so much more. I ended up on a quiet trail overlooking the coast, maybe a quarter mile long, but it felt sacred. Just the sound of the ocean, the rustling trees, and my own breath.
No noise, no demands, no one calling “Mom.” Just me, remembering I still exist outside of the chaos. That small moment refilled me in a way nothing else could.
🛣 Big River Beach & Redwood Dreams
After Van Damme, we headed back toward Gualala — not because we planned it that way, but because this was a last-minute trip and no campground had more than one night open. Honestly? It worked in our favor.
As we drove along the coast, we passed Big River Beach in Mendocino and couldn’t resist. We pulled over, parked the RV with the door wide open to the view, and let the kids play at the water’s edge. The beach felt peaceful and wild and ours.
I made lunch while my mom played outside with the kids. We ate together, then I put Egan down for a nap with the breeze blowing through the windows. It was one of those moments that made the whole trip worth it.
🏕 Redwood River Resort
After naptime, we finished the drive to Redwood River Resort, and it was a dream:
Tall trees, a playground, a little coffee outpost in the morning, and wide open space for the kids to explore while we breathed a little deeper.
That night we made dinner, lit a fire, roasted s’mores, and climbed into bed sticky, tired, and happy. The kind of happy that only comes after a full day of nature and effort and just enough sugar.
🚽 The Dump Station Diaries
The next morning, I had my official black water dumping initiation. Gross? Yes. Weirdly empowering? Also yes.
It was one of those moments where I realized — I can do this. The whole thing. The beauty and the grit. The tiny wins and the exhausting logistics. And maybe… just maybe…
I want an RV of my own.
✨ Final Thoughts
This trip wasn’t planned down to the detail. It wasn’t seamless. It wasn’t aesthetic every moment. But it was ours.
From river ledges and battery mishaps to beachside chaos and bedtime s’mores, we navigated tiny kitchens, early mornings, black water dumps, and toddler moods.
And still, what I’ll remember most are the quiet river lunches, the train through the redwoods, the glow of the fire, and the way the forest felt when the kids were finally asleep.
We chased connection, not perfection.
And we found it — in motion, in messes, and in all the places we never planned to stop.
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