Hot Flashes & Hot Shots: The Harrison Bay RV Reality Check

Good morning, everyone. Let’s get real for a second. We see the Instagram version of RV life, the perfectly staged sunsets, the minimalist aesthetic, and the wide-open roads. But if you’ve been following my journey at Dale's Angels Inc., you know we don’t do "filtered" here. We do Lifestyle Realism. And the reality of my recent debrief from Harrison Bay is a mixture of tactical survival, menopausal heat management, and the literal logistics of managing human waste in a small space.

It’s beautiful out there by the lake, don’t get me wrong. But "beautiful" doesn’t pay the bills when you’re navigating osteoarthritis in a 24-foot rig. Let’s dive into the reality check.

The Space Math: Mobility and the Cramped Reality

When you transition back into RV living, you quickly realize that space isn't just about square footage; it’s about the physics of your own body. There is a specific kind of "space math" you have to do every time you move. You have to be incredibly cognizant of your own width. In a sticks-and-bricks house, you don't think about how wide your shoulders are when walking down a hallway. In an RV, a two-inch miscalculation means a bruised hip or a knocked-over mug of FB Roasters coffee.

For those of us living with osteoarthritis, these cramped quarters can be genuinely painful. The way you move your body, the positions you have to contort into to reach a cabinet or adjust a vent, it adds up. You have to be organized, not because it looks good for a photo, but because if something is out of place, it’s a physical hazard. In this context, organization is a form of pain management.

Menopause in a Tin Can: The Tactical Hydration Kit

Let’s talk about being truly menopausal in the wild. When you're in an RV, especially at Harrison Bay, the heat becomes a tactical adversary. You build up internal heat from hot flashes, and then the environment hammers you from the outside, regardless of the AC’s best efforts.

I’ve learned the hard way that you lose an incredible amount of electrolytes and free water through sweat. If you aren’t careful, this leads to severe body cramps that make existing osteoarthritis feel ten times worse. My solution? I’ve started "pregaming" my hydration.

Remember back in the day when we’d pregame before hitting the club? Well, now my "club" is a campsite, and my drink of choice is a Liquid IV. Using some form of liquid IV or heavy electrolyte hitter before the heat peaks is key to survival. Additionally, my tactical kit always includes Pepcid and a rotating selection of pain relievers. You have to stay ahead of the pain; once it catches you in a small space, there’s nowhere to run.

Flashback to 2023: The Dream Spot

Before this round of heat management and tank math, there was the version of Harrison Bay that felt like the dream setup: lakeside without hindrances, room to breathe, and fewer operational headaches. These photos capture the favorite spot that was unavailable this time, which is probably why this trip felt so different.

That contrast matters. Sometimes the same destination can feel either restorative or tactical depending on the site, the weather, and what your body is dealing with that day. That’s the difference between a filtered RV fantasy and Lifestyle Realism.

The MLM Archive vs. The Streamlined Present

One of the more interesting parts of returning to RV life was digging through my storage: specifically, what I call the "MLM Archive." Like many people, I’ve participated in multi-level marketing businesses in the past. While I’ve moved on to more streamlined ventures like my Bookshop and FB Roasters, some of those old organizational items have come in surprisingly handy.

However, the RV is a ruthless editor. My rule is simple: if it helps with organization in this specific 300-square-foot reality, it stays. If it’s just a reminder of a business model that didn't fit my soul, it’s trashed. Adjusting to your new reality means letting go of the "conveniences" of a larger life that no longer serve your current mission.

The Countertop Command Center

Space on the counter is prime real estate. It’s the bridge of my ship. My "Countertop Command Center" might look a little messy to the untrained eye, but it is a highly functional hub of caffeine and clarity.

The MVP here is my Ninja portable coffee maker. It’s small enough to fit the limited counter space but versatile enough to handle my changing moods. I can pop in some FB Roasters pods when I’m in a hurry, or I can use the adjustable strainer for my morning infusion.

The Morning Clarity Routine

My routine is non-negotiable. It’s the one thing that keeps the "Section 31" brain functioning.

1. Hot Lemon Water: First thing, to wake up the system.

2. The Meds: All the essentials to keep the joints moving and the brain focused.

3. The Morning Clarity Tea: Using the Ninja's infusion setting, I steep a blend of ginger, rosemary, basil, and lemon balm. It’s a sharp, herbal punch that cuts through the "RV fog" and sets the tone for the day.

Environmental Intel: Insects, Predators, and Infrastructure

Harrison Bay is beautiful, but it’s a battlefield. Even with some overhead coverage from the trees, the rig is subject to the outside temperature. Keeping a small space cool is a constant logistical battle.

Then, there are the insects. You are exposed. I keep multiple cans of Hot Shot on hand at all times: it’s not a suggestion; it’s a requirement. And it’s not just the six-legged variety you have to watch for. Being a solo traveler means keeping an eye out for the four-legged predators (the ones that want your snacks) and the two-legged predators (the ones that are just generally unwelcome). Vigilance is the price of lakefront views.

The Logistics of the "Dump"

Here is the part they don't put in the travel brochures. Harrison Bay is wonderful, but since my mobility is currently limited, the lack of a sewer hookup at my specific site was a major logistical hurdle.

When you don’t have a sewer hookup, you are constantly cognizant of the capacity of your gray and black water tanks. Eventually, RV life starts feeling like measuring life in gallons one flush at a time. You watch the levels, do the math, and decide what can wait until the next dump station run. Eventually, you have to break the whole rig down: unhook the power, pull in the slides, secure the "Countertop Command Center": just to drive to the dumping station. It’s a physical chore that requires planning and a lot of patience.

It is also worth noting that African Americans go RVing, and the community on the road is real. Black RVers have built spaces of connection, visibility, and shared knowledge that matter, especially when you are navigating campgrounds solo or looking for a sense of ease in unfamiliar places. Tags and community markers like #BlackFolksCampToo, #BlackRVers, and #CampCultivated help spotlight that experience and make room for more honest, inclusive representation of who this lifestyle is actually for.

If you are looking for a trip that has a bit more "concierge" and a bit less "gray water management," you might want to check out our DAI Travel Services. I can help you find a spot where you don't have to break down your rig just to empty a tank.

The Final Debrief

Overall, the Harrison Bay experience was positive, but it required significant tactical adjustments. RV living isn't just about where you’re parked; it’s about how you adapt to the environment, your body, and the gear you bring with you.

Whether I’m grinding up fresh beans from FB Roasters or warding off mosquitoes with a can of Hot Shot, the goal remains the same: staying functional, staying caffeinated, and staying real.

If you are ready to plan your next adventure, send an email directly to felicia.baxter@fora.travel with Subject HELP I NEED A VACATION.

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AI assisted.

Lifestyle Realism & Aesthetic Direction. Rendered by Sonny, Penny, Stan, Eva. Orchestrated by Felicia, Lifestyle Realist. Section 31, TN Chapter.