It’s no secret that the typical RV isn’t a high watermark for quality. You know it, I know it, and dealers know it, too. Yet, somehow, it seems quality got even worse during the pandemic. My parents bought a new camper in 2022 and it spent that year broken at the dealer awaiting parts. We’re finally using it now, but it’s not because it stopped breaking. This nearly-new camper is so poorly built that parts fall off on every time we take a trip.
The trailer in question is a 2022 Heartland Mallard M33. This is a large bumper-pull travel trailer that weighs 7,746 pounds empty, stretches about 37 feet from tongue to bumper, and is advertised as being able to sleep a big family of nine or more. Heartland is a family-oriented luxury brand within Thor Industries with a focus on following interior design trends. The Mallard model boasts an open floorplan and a supposedly lightweight design. Really, the Mallard looks like it’s trying its hardest to look like a mobile farmhouse.
My parents bought this trailer back in March 2022 and the trailer was just a couple of months old, having been built that January. The sticker price was $62,800 but Dad says he managed to get it for $58,000, or still not cheap. It’s been over two years since then and we’ve yet to be able to camp in this thing without something silly breaking.
You’re about to read about an impressive laundry list of issues and it may sound like I’m just straight up bashing Thor Industries. The truth is that I want everyone to be able to go out camping in their own way, be it in a sleeping bag under the stars or a multi-million dollar Prevost. Regardless of what “camping” means to you, I want you to have a good time. I want you to be able to spend 60 grand of your hard-earned money and feel like you’re getting what you paid for.
Every time I go to an RV show, I’m not just looking for something weird to write about. I’m scanning typical units and I’m talking with RV owners and RV dealerships. I have seen glaring quality issues with my own eyes and the operators of dealer chains have been open that some units are built like garbage. That’s a shame. I don’t want to trash RV manufacturers. I want them to build better products so families can create memories without worrying about busting out another thousand bucks to fix something that shouldn’t have broken in the first place.
Unfortunately, one of the brands that has disappointed me is Heartland Recreational Vehicles, and not just because of my parents’ unit. When I go to an RV show, I usually see a Heartland unit displaying what I feel is sub-par work. Sometimes it’s a fifth-wheel trailer pin box that’s covered in spray paint to cover up surface rust, missing fasteners, or interior trim that’s already coming off of a new unit being demoed for media at an RV show. Again, these are things I’ve seen with my own eyes over the past couple of years.
I’ll even give you photo evidence. The RV in the photo above is a Heartland Torque that was just a few months old when I took the picture. Rust was already appearing on the fifth wheel and someone just lazily sprayed paint on it in an effort to hide it. Check out the overspray on the decals:
Again, I’m not trying to bash the manufacturer here, just point out that regular people can see stuff like this and want the industry to do better. It’s not just me, either. RV experts have been blowing the whistle on bad quality for years. In 2021, Dave Solberg, an RV repair expert over at RV Travel, reported what we’ve all been seeing:
Most RV manufacturers build the cheapest rig as fast as possible
Keep in mind that most RV manufacturers strive to build the cheapest rig as fast as possible. Fit and finish is hidden with expandable foam, silicone, and a product called gimp, which is a vinyl strip used between cabinets and walls to hide uneven cuts and gaps. They use cheap fabrics, single-layer foam in cushions, and even low-level furniture that they give a fancy name like it’s designer quality when actually it’s a lower level than what you would find at a big box store!
Take a closer look. You’ll find particle board with a vinyl wrap, paneling used to look like solid wood, holes that look like they were cut out with a hatchet inside those cabinets rather than a nice cutout with decorative trim to finish it off. Nope, that all takes time, which costs money. Since the unit sitting across the aisle doesn’t have it, it’s a waste of money.
Things got even worse during the pandemic, with even dealerships sounding off about how bad things have gotten, as reported by RV Travel:
“It’s some of the worst stuff I’ve seen in 30 years,” said one longtime RV dealer. “It’s horrendous inside and out. But we have no recourse but to put it on the lot and try to sell it. You take what you can get, and you move on.”
The East Coast dealer said RV manufacturers are “building them as fast as they can, and there just isn’t any quality control. Manufacturers are not doing a good job of taking care of their customers. It’s gone from bad to worse.”
Friend of the Autopian attorney Steve Lehto frequently uploads videos about RV nightmare stories and there are entire YouTube channels dedicated to pointing out bad RVs. Liz Amazing lives up to her name:
So keep all of this in mind as you read on.
The First Time Around
Let’s start with what happened back in 2022, because that’ll just set the tone here.
My parents took delivery of a unit that was broken straight from the factory. Right out of the gate, the first thing I noticed was that the unit had cool LED light strips on the front cap. However, not only were these strips the kind of crap you get from Amazon for $20, but they were attached to the cap with a weak adhesive. Of course, the light strips were already peeling off and the trailer hadn’t even been on a single trip yet.
Honestly, that’s a small problem, but it got worse from there. I moved to the side of the trailer and found that one of the RV’s aerodynamic side skirts (the dealer tech calls these “J-channels”) was halfway through deleting itself from the unit. How were these even bolted on? Through cheap self-tapping screws. Then I saw how the sealant around every window looked like it was applied by a seven-year-old kid.
Somehow, it still got worse. One of the safety chain hooks fell off of the trailer on its first tow, the emergency brake cable disintegrated in my hand, and then there’s the rust. The trailer was just a few months old, yet the underbody had a surprising amount of surface rust. By that summer, the frame had more surface rust than our family’s old camper, a 2007 Adirondack by Thor. Don’t worry, the absurdity of that statement hasn’t escaped my family.
The solution to that rust? Our dealer said to spray the frame with Rust-Oleum Rust Reformer. Now, as a proud owner of rusty piles of junk, I’ve used a lot of Rust-Oleum Rust Reformer in my time. It works great to cover up unsightly rust and does seem to slow rust down, but in my experience, it is not a long-term fix for rust for cars, so I’m not sure how it would work for a trailer frame.
Mind you, all of this was discovered before my family even took the camper on its first outing. So, the camper went back to the dealer, where it sat for a few months waiting on parts. We did get the camper back in time for some summer camping, but oh boy did the trailer not want to go out. We found these problems merely attempting to take it on a trip, from one of my last entries on this trailer:
In addition to the safety problems, we found three light switches that weren’t even screwed in, random staples everywhere on the ceiling, a window valence that fell off a wall, and a bathtub that wasn’t even close to being installed correctly. In fact, the bathtub wasn’t even screwed in or secured, but just sitting in place. Because of this, there was a huge water leak when we tested the shower and tub. Amazingly, that wasn’t even the only place water was gushing out into the wrong places. The water heater also sprayed water all over everything inside and outside of the trailer.
All of these new problems meant that the trailer spent its first year sitting at the dealership. Sometimes, it took the dealership multiple tries to get things right, too. For example, the loose bathtub was finally screwed in by the dealership, but whatever tech did the job mounted the tub in a horribly crooked position. It took the dealership two more tries before the bathtub was finally correctly mounted in and as you’re soon about to read, it may have to go back again.
The rest of the year was spent waiting on parts or just a free technician. Our local dealer says it was swamped with work throughout the pandemic and immediately after, so even when the parts did come in there might not have been anyone to work on the camper. Oh, and while our camper was at the dealer for a year, someone broke in and stole some really specific items. They took precisely three dinette cushions plus all of the silverware, plates, pots, pans, and towels that my mom stored in the trailer.
The dealership later admitted that a tech took our cushions to put into another Mallard that came from the factory missing its cushions. But then, that guy just forgot to replace what he took, I guess? That also means someone got a brand-new camper with technically used cushions. It also doesn’t explain why someone stole plates, towels, and silverware. Thankfully, none of that stuff was special, but that just made it even more bizarre.
Finally, all of that drama ended in 2023. To our dealer’s credit, they fixed all of that stuff under warranty and even cut my parents a check for the stuff that was stolen while the camper was on the dealer’s property. That’s great!
Keep On Breakin’
Summer 2023 rolls around and my family is eager to finally take this trailer camping for the first time since it was purchased over a year earlier.
We thought we were out of the woods, but as I wrote last year, the trailer’s poor quality continues to show:
We first discovered things weren’t quite right when we tried to turn on the kitchen’s LED lights, which now don’t work. That switch knows what it did wrong…
Then, we tried to open the refrigerator to put food in it. The door jammed on the second closure, and when we tried to clear the jam, the door responded by snapping off its handle. I couldn’t help but laugh so hard that I started crying. This is the kind of stuff from a comedy movie, but a dumb one like an Adam Sandler flick.
And we’re not done yet. We found that the water heater wasn’t working. While I was troubleshooting it, I opened up the outdoor kitchen, which revealed that the refrigerator had pulled itself from the wall, taking its holder with it. Meanwhile, the ceiling of the outdoor kitchen is separating, causing a snow of particle board dust.
Inside, we found that the window shades don’t like to stay open on their own and perhaps thanks to Chicago potholes, interior wall trim is falling off. Also comical is the fact that every single fixture mounted to the walls is crooked.
I later found out that the water heater wasn’t working because its valves were still in the closed position from the trailer’s winterization. Unfortunately, the water heater itself immediately began leaking once I opened the valves. But hey, the water leaked outside of the trailer now, which was a marked improvement from the previous leaks!
Or, that’s what I thought. The kitchen sink began leaking out onto the trailer’s floor and the bathroom, which has its own door to the outside, had seals so bad that water got in during rainstorms. The bathroom door’s seal is such a joke that you can see outside light through the door when the door is closed. Just this weekend, I also noticed that there’s a part of the primary bedroom that isn’t sealed and thus you can see light through a tiny portion of the floor. It’s baffling me how nobody noticed or perhaps cared about this stuff at the factory.
But hey, these problems were not too bad, so my family took the trailer out a couple of more times before sending it back to the dealership for repairs over the winter.
Breaking Bad
Now it’s 2024 and the camping season is almost over. My parents were a bit too busy for most of the year, so they missed out on some good camping. I still took out the older Adirondack to EAA AirVenture Oshkosh 2024, enjoyed some fun tent camping, and even roughed it out in the back of a Volkswagen Touareg back in March. I may love RVs, but I still don’t mind doing things the hard way every now and then.
Anyway, my parents decided to take the Mallard out for Labor Day. By my count, this is maybe the fifth or sixth time the trailer’s been slept in since my parents bought it. So, it’s not even really broken in. Or, maybe that’s the wrong phrase to use since it’s definitely still broken.
The dealer spent the winter fixing as many complaints as it could. The water heater had to be replaced due to an internal failure and the new one doesn’t leak. The refrigerator now has working handles, shoddy wiring was fixed and now the kitchen LEDs do work, the random staples have been removed, crooked fixtures straightened up, water leaks vanquished, and the outdoor refrigerator secured again. By the dealer’s own admission, they effectively spent the winter fixing what the factory failed to do two years ago.
Well, the dealer’s going to be back at it again this year. Unfortunately, the trailer’s bumper-to-bumper warranty has expired, so these fixes will be coming out of my parents’ pockets.
My dad says this weekend’s headache began before the trailer even reached its campsite at Yogi Bear’s Jellystone Park resort just south of Milwaukee. Dad reports that first, the cap for the tanks blew off on the highway. Ok, that’s stupid, but something that does sometimes happen with campers. Then he made me laugh immediately after when he said “Then, the handle for the black tank blew off.”
Alright, that one is new to me and I still cannot stop laughing. Look, it’s a small issue because you can still pull on the rod with your hand or a pair of pliers, but still, that’s silly.
Then there’s the glob of foam around the tank exit, which is supposed to protect the wiring underneath and keep wildlife out of the trailer’s underbody. Well, some animals have been trying to get their way through the seal.
Sheryl and I arrived at the camper on Saturday and we found that my parents filled the interior refrigerator to the brim with steaks and such, so Sheryl’s drinks had to go outside. That’s the great thing about having more than one refrigerator! Upon opening the hatch, I found more of the particle board “sawdust” material sprayed around the outdoor kitchen. The shifting wall problem has not been resolved.
Unfortunately, my parents have been told by the dealer there isn’t really a fix for this. The trailer’s frame and living unit are going to flex, which is going to cause these walls to move a little. I understand that, but it’s still janky as heck that you have to clean up what’s basically wall snow every time you camp.
This flexing thing is also occurring inside. I’m not sure the bathroom in this camper is deserving of being called a room. The walls of the bathroom are these outrageously thin pieces of board, and I’m talking thinner than cardboard. These boards are so thin that just trying to adjust the temperature on the thermostat causes the entire wall to flex. The walls are so thin that if you drunkenly stumbled into one you’ll end up in the bathtub.
The walls are also secured with this black piece of trim. Unfortunately, the trim dislodged during travel, which means everything is even looser than usual over there. Later, the trim finally liberated itself from the wall, hitting my mom in the face on its journey down to the floor.
With the trim completely removed, you can see and feel the absolute garbage quality of the materials used in the trailer’s interior and how they were put together. I get that the Mallard is supposed to be lightweight, but this is just bad.
It’s not just there, either. Trim pieces are buckling and falling off all over the trailer’s interior from the primary bedroom to the living room. The bathtub’s wall is also ripping itself from the paper-thin wall.
I also had to take a gander at the rust. Thankfully, most of it is still of the surface variety, but some parts are legitimately crusty like you’d expect from a Midwestern car after over a decade.
Again, this trailer is just two years old, yet it’s falling apart and rusting faster than the Adirondack, which is edging closer to 20 years of age.
Weird Design Decisions
When I wasn’t laughing about the broken tank handles or the walls separating, I began to notice some interesting design decisions.
Let’s start with the primary bedroom. Heartland boasts about the unit’s queen bed and truth be told, it’s a nice bed to sleep in. However, the bed also takes up the entirety of the primary bedroom, leaving no room to get dressed in, you know, the bedroom.
Then there’s really not much for privacy here. The Mallard has a hefty sliding door that blocks off the primary bedroom from the rest of the trailer. However, this whole deal is sort of stupid. First, the sliding door doesn’t lock, so there’s no real privacy. Second, the door scrapes the wall as it slides, leading to permanent scratches being put into the door. I think I can solve this with a bunch of felt pads, but again, it’s just another example of the manufacturer’s lack of detail.
There’s also little ventilation in the room. You get two HVAC vents, one tiny window, and the emergency exit window. That seems like enough until you put two people in the room.
The body heat of those two people is enough to make everything hot and stuffy. Opening the windows does nothing for this if there isn’t a breeze, so you’re left using the trailer’s HVAC system. However, you’ll find that the primary bedroom feels blazing hot while the rest of the trailer feels fine, so the other people in the trailer might not want you turning the temps down on the thermostat.
The smaller Adirondack has a solution for this with a bedroom roof fan. Sheryl and I have found that using the Adirondack’s roof fan keeps the primary bedroom in that trailer at about the same temps as the rest of the trailer. The easy fix for the Mallard was bringing my own fan and putting it in the window, but again, that’s a detail that could have been done at the factory.
Ok, my phone’s camera makes this look better than it really is:
Finally, the last oddity is that the Mallard has little side lighting despite having LEDs basically everywhere else. The awning has a dim LED strip and there’s a light for the outdoor kitchen, but that’s it. If you want to eat outside at night you’ll have to bring your own light.
Not All Bad
So, this trailer has found a way to break every time we take it out. Boat owners joke that “Boat” is an acronym for “bust out another thousand,” but this travel trailer is trying its hardest to be like one of those boats. The problems have gotten to the point where my parents don’t even want the trailer anymore, but there’s no chance they’ll ever make their money back on resale. So, they’re just shaking their heads and are sticking with it.
Despite everything that’s given my parents a headache, I do see some genuine good ideas at play here. The primary bedroom’s bed is legitimately comfortable, which I couldn’t say about the bed in the Adirondack or most travel trailers built in the 2000s.
I also like the open concept, which makes the Mallard feel a bit closer to a home and not an RV. Other high marks include the cool lighting, the trailer’s composite front cap, and generous storage. I also like how the unit tows with confidence and doesn’t entirely feel like you’re trying to ram a brick through wind.
There was some clever thinking with this trailer. There’s no way to access the rear of the trailer when the slides are closed, yet there’s a second entrance door right there to the bathroom. So, you could read the Morning Dump in a parking lot with the slides closed if you need to.
I also love how the main entry stair touches the ground. All RVs should have stairs like this. You no longer get the feeling of instability while climbing the stairs. Also, stairs that rip out of the trailer’s body, which is something that has happened to my family in decades past, are now a thing of the past. That’s genius!
If only the rest of the trailer were built like the stairway is.
As always, I want to end this with some advice. Never buy a camper sight unseen. I don’t care how good it looks in an ad or what the salesperson says. Go hook your own peepers on it before exchanging a dollar or agreeing to anything. Even better? Get a pre-purchase inspection. This is good advice for buying a car, too. Find someone who knows what to look for and have them take a look.
Speaking of cars, don’t think that RVs are built like cars or like houses because, usually, they aren’t. Don’t get blinded by flashy features or a cute design. Keep your eyes peeled for problems. If a brand-new unit is rusting only a month out of the factory, you might want to reconsider.
I do have some good news. While there’s so much bad in the RV world right now, you don’t have to settle for something poorly built. There are brands with a reputation for quality, even if you have to pay more to get it. Brands like inTech, Happier Camper, and Scamp have their own issues here and there, but a lot of happy campers. It’s why I try to highlight some of the cooler RVs out there when I find them.
No matter what you do, have fun. That’s what this whole camping thing is all about. Regardless if you’re in a tent or in a bus, just get out there and have fun.
I’ve been wondering why your folks got that thing. Thor has had a bad reputation since long before the pandemic. People get upset when Thor acquires another RV manufacturer because they know the quality is about to take a nosedive. I’m surprised seasoned RV owners would even look at something under the Thor umbrella.
Thor bought Livin’Lite, then killed the brand completely, and they were one of the “good” ones. I don’t like to be conspiratorial and all, but, it really begged the question of why they bought them in the first place.
Usually it’s to eliminate a competitor to funnel more customers to the main brands.
Are the Elkhart RV assembly workers unionized?
Yeah, it’s called the Methamphetamine Union
Mercedes, you’ve pretty much turned me off on RVs forever. I could stay in a lot of hotels for 58 grand. And if I want to camp, a tent is more appropriate.
You made me want to do the math. I watched a video and this guy stayed in a cozy cabin in a National Park and said it cost 200-300 a night and I gasped. But $58,000 gets you 193 nights in that cabin which is 27 weeks. ????
This.
There are so many parks near me where you can rent a cabin for reasonable rates—and you still have a vehicle to explore/see the sights in.
I feel for your parents, and kudos that they’ve accepted that it will need repairs every winter and will tough it out.
When the partner and I go camping, we are pretty much always in a place that has rental cabins. Bring your own bedding and all that. They are not fancy, but it’s a roof, a bed, and electricity. We could do 600 nights in even the worst of cabins for the price of this.
Trailers have one advantage over boats:
They both will be money pits, but at least the trailer won’t sink.
My dealer mentioned that during the last few years, 2/3rds of his service work is warranty.
You think trailers won’t sink? Mercedes’ parents are permanently underwater with their trailer!
It may not sink, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be water inside it (at least until the floor rots out and creates it’s own drain holes).
I decided to get a tiny Aliner. Yeah, cramped is being generous in describing the amount of space it has. That said, it’s built decently for an RV. It still has issues but thankfully they’ve been minor because there’s just not much to go wrong.
Aliners and Chalets are wonderful. Watch for leaks along the seams and they will last for decades.
I purchased one of the larger Aliners new. Roomy enough for my family of three and a dog. A few minor issues on the first trip, water leaks from fittings not tighten, leaky hot water tank relief value and a few other loose items. The quality of the materials is far better than other similarly priced trailers. We’re happy with our purchase so far.
Then there’s me overbuilding the hell out of a simple utility trailer. I really don’t know how people could run a company like that and have any sense of pride.
I keep looking at building off my own utility trailer.
1. because it couldn’t possibly be worse quality than these things and
2. because the cost is already wild for utility trailers.
As these things go, it ended up costing me no less to make it, but I got to make it my way, which is a bit overbuilt, really, but better over than under and allows me to dial some strength back for more utility later. Like, I built it with a half drop down tailgate (on double hinges so it folds over and around the 2x4s that secure the fixed lower section) and gusseted the fixed section to the sides as I thought it might need that to resist torsional loads with kayaks on the crossbars, but it’s plenty strong enough to make a full drop tailgate, which would make unloading lawn/driveway waste a lot easier. For all the aggravation and some lessons learned, it was worth it for the experience and knowing I built it and got to choose which items to cut costs on (less important things, like pine over maple because holy Athena did the cost of maple get outrageous! or simple boat trailer bunk brackets on 2x4s over extruded aluminum to allow the kayak crossbars to adjust the angle as they sit angled up towards the front to avoid hitting the car) than some manufacturer who would probably cut the more expensive things that aren’t obvious.
My dad wanted to slap tandem axles under his 5×7 that was lengthened to a 5×12. Found a guy in Michigan selling what ended up being a pair of 7000 pound Dexter Torflex axles, with wheels and tires, for something crazy like $200 because he didn’t know what he had. A coworker of mine also worked at Dexter and confirmed for us. Asked the guy if he was still okay with selling at that price and he was. We had to replace the brakes and a couple of the hubs, but ended up building a 24-foot trailer for a few thousand dollars total since those felt like overkill for a 5×12.
You can definitely build something nice for less, but much like Cerberus said, it’s easy to overbuild them and make your perfect trailer and it won’t come out any cheaper. You’ll probably be happier with it though.
We bought our Casita after your parents did and have spent over 100 nights in it and towed it over 15,000 miles and have only had some very minor issues, none of which required professional attention. The only other trailers we would consider buying are another molded fiberglass trailer or an Airstream. I think your parents’ unit is typical of the stick built trailers. I’m constantly amazed people pay that price for them.
The Casita / Scout / Oliver trailers seem to have a longevity that puts the rest of the industry to shame. My inlaws have lived in their Casita 50% of the time for the last 5 years, and the only required work was a failed Dometic fridge. It sounds like you made a great decision.
I haven’t heard of Scout, so you must mean Scamp. I’ve owned two. My previous 16-footer was 30 years old when I sold it on, for a little more than I paid ten years before. It never leaked, and the frame and shell maintained perfect integrity. The axle was worn out and needed replacing, but they sue the same Dexter torsion axles as any other trailer.
Think of all the separate parts that make up a stick-built RV shell. Now imagine the dozens of yards of gaskets and caulking that are used to seal it from the weather. Shake well, like a house in a hurricane. Typical RVs are built like houses. Fiberglass RVs are built more like the septic tank under the back yard. They are simple, two-piece structures that are very durable.
Thor owns Airstream now and quality is not what it once was. They are riding on the name……
Yeah I was about to post about Airstream, my friend got a new one and it had a lot of issues to fix.
Yeesh, that’s a shame to have so many problems on something so new. My 2002 motorhome I bought last year has some problems due to age and deferred maintenance that I’m working through but I think it might actually be a shorter list and I have a drivetrain to deal with.
One thing though, mine is drastically less fancy. No slides, only one very small kitchen, one bathroom door, smaller, less trimwork, etc. I’ve noticed this a lot on new ones I see that it seems the RV people are trying really hard (too hard) to cram as much fancy stuff in there as possible and I’d bet any semblance of quality they once had is going right out the window to maintain a profit margin.
Trimflation corollary, I guess. Works for cars and houses, so it should work for something that is both.
Meh, leaks are just water off a duck’s back. And you have to flex a little to be able to waddle.
Good thing ducks aren’t made of particle board.
I always say I like to do my camping with access to hot water, a flushing toilet and a comfy bed. By which I mean a hotel. A trailer may check all those boxes, but I could stay in nice hotels for much less, then just drive to nature. As a bonus, I wouldn’t have to deal with all these issues. That is, if I wanted anything to do with nature. I prefer concrete and glass, I’m not allergic to that.
My wife agrees with you. Her idea of camping is a Motel 6.
Lucky. My wife’s idea of roughing it is a Holiday Inn.
A coworker many years ago said her idea of roughing it was no room service
We exclusively boondock in our Airstream, and there are really only two big advantages vs. a hotel room. The first is access to nature that comes with being directly next to the water / hunting / mountain you travelled to get to right out your front door. The second is being able to bring along dogs and being able to let them romp.
If its a choice between a campground, and a nice hotel room, I’d choose hotel every time. When it comes to getting out to a space on BLM / NF land that’s “ours” the trailer makes a good case for itself.
Am finally ready to sell my 1988 25′ 5th wheel, bought 20 years ago for 4K, after spending something over 100 nights in with the wife and kids over time and making many happy memories and miles. Trim’s getting kinda rotten and it has a water leak under the sink now, but that’s been about it.
Mercedes, the obvious solution here is for your parents to offer the unit to David Tracy, watch him fall in love with it as he revels in some of the unique design features while assuming the challenge of repairing it all. Yes, he might have trouble finding an EV to pull it, but ultimately, I think it could be a win for your parents. And, since DT could write for years about his travails with such a beast, it could be a win for the content needs of The Autopian as well…
You mean give it to DT to turn it into a cat shelter and turn this site into catopian.
Yeah, he could add a spaghetti dispenser to the shower and a dishwasher to wash car parts!
“This is the kind of stuff from a comedy movie, but a dumb one like an Adam Sandler flick.”
The movie you’re thinking of is “The Money Pit” with Tom Hanks and Shelly Long. A really good movie. At least you’re getting stuff covered under warranty, unlike in the movie.
It was a good movie, but was it Gudenov?
Now I have a machine gun. Ho Ho Ho
If the movie took place on flag day, it would make no difference.
Thems fightin’ words.
Please say it don’t make any difference, Aunt Belle! Please!
For heaven’s sake, tell him!
Did you see it? The way he went sailing right out there?
My favorite is Billy Madison, and who doesn’t love Happy Gilmore? Also, the Water Boy
The headline was enough. I haven’t even read the article yet.
$62k?!?!?!?! For that?! OMFG! Just, NO.
Yeah that’s like two year’s worth of Motel 6
And at least at a Motel 6 you get a free cup of bad coffee and a stale Danish.
I prefer a year-old tiny box of Special K.
It only starts with the cost of the trailer. You have to tow it somewhere, at 16 mpg or less, and you have to pay for a place to park it. Western KOA sites start around $70 a night, more for the big rigs. National Forest campsites have been jammed since the COVID camping boom. Reserved sites book months ahead in the summer, so first-come, first-serve is often your only opportunity. And who wants to head out in an RV wondering if you’ll find a spot? Yes, I own an RV…
It’s kind of sad that this is very common across US made travel trailers. However, think of all the things going wrong at home. Now put that home on wheels and bounce it down a road.
In my experience the off road trailers (many imported but the US does have a small market for these now as well) tend to be more durable, reliable, and less problematic, even for road use.
I prefer to do my travel accommodation using a cell phone,, credit card an airbnb or an upscale hotel chain.
We’re planning on a cross country road trip in 2 years to visit national parks. Our current 2022 17ft Bullet is a bit smaller than we’d like, but everything works the way it should, and there aren’t many problems with its construction that can’t be easily fixed with a free weekend and a trip to Home Depot. I’m worried that if we get something bigger, we run the risk of getting a POS like what your family is dealing with.
On a side note, it doesn’t have to be like this. My family in Germany have a gorgeous trailer that is built very well. It’s light, the fit and finish is top notch, and any issues they’ve had with it have been dealt with in a timely manner. And no, it wasn’t any more expensive then what you would pay for a similar size with similar features in the states.
I would also say that American RVs seem to be somehow always ridiculously heavy vs European ones, even comparing size for size and feature for feature, I don’t know where all the weight goes, but it seems like there’s absolutely no consideration to even trying to keep it down.
An American company will build a 16ft trailer that somehow still weighs 5,000lbs empty, then stick a decal on the side that says “Featherlyte 2.0” or something and act like they did something revolutionary, because, hey, it doesn’t weigh 5,500lbs, does it?
In the meantime, the British will built a 19ft camper with two beds, a kitchen,and a shower and somehow keep the weight under 2,000lbs.
Brits by and large aren’t looking for an excuse to buy an F350. They see giant trucks for the obnoxious PITAs they are. Americans like heavy campers in part because it gives them an excuse to get that giant truck they’ve been lusting after.
“This is the kind of stuff from a comedy movie, but a dumb one like an Adam Sandler flick.”
Hey, don’t you be diss’n’ Adam Sandler flicks.
Okay, maybe Jack and Jill, if you really to. And maybe a few others…
Oh, nevermind. You can do it.
Two words: Little Nicky.
Yes, that one also came to mind, but I know people who think it’s a great film. (Why, I have no idea.)
50 First Dates, Click and Spanglish are about the only ones I’ll actually watch. Haven’t caught the new one with the space spider, but I like SciFi so maybe this winter I’ll check that one out.
I’d love to be getting the actor Rob Schneider’s residual checks on all the Adam Sandler movies he’s done, though.
A barely watchable Adam Sandler movie does not exist.
Change my mind.
Can I get you to consider The Hanukkah Song video a “movie”?
Username checks out.
Do lemon laws apply to RVs? Might be worth a look.
Also, I still don’t get why designers put slide outs under the awning.
My guess is that they have the same opinion of the water-resistance of the slide out that I do, and under the awning it might leak a little less.
My understanding is most RVs are not covered by lemon laws at all.
Steve Lehto (referenced in the article) goes into detail but basically when you buy a camper you’re getting the warranty equivalent of a shipped pallet of parts.
Depends on the state, but, typically no.
I was wondering that too, but it seems like lemon laws do not apply. Still, it seems like there should be some sort of consumer protection something or other that would apply right? These products are not as advertised and are at best, shitty, and at worst dangerous. Shit’s flying off just driving down the road!
Thanks for this article, as I’m currently in the market for a camper very much like your parents. It’s dizzying how many brands there all although I’m come to learn that many fall under a parent company like Forest River. My wife & I have a seasonal site now so our 2017 24′ camper is smaller than I’d like but I’m terrified to drop $50k on a new one based on everything I keep reading. I appreciate that you listed a few brands to look into but those are pretty small & niche brands that don’t make the type of trailer your parents have. Do you have recommendations for that size?
Yeah, the vast majority of RVs built in America fall under the Forest River or Thor Industries umbrellas. The brand spread between Forest River and Thor is insane and covers everything from Heartland and Coleman to legends like Airstream.
How silly is it? Forest River and Thor will sell the same trailers under different brands with the only differences being names and colors.
Admittedly, I do not currently have recommendations for a new trailer roughly the size of my parents’ unit. If you asked this sometime in the recent past, I would have said something like a Grand Design, but even those are suffering from some quality issues lately. So, that’s why I recommend getting an inspection.
I am pretty impressed by what Oliver is doing, but its biggest trailer is a 23-footer that’s more expensive than the Mallard was.
Edit: Actually, come to think of it, I thought the Forest River No Boundaries RV Suite was pretty cool. It’s 32 feet and has a funky porch thing going on. It doesn’t have any slides, but I see that as a good thing. I haven’t spent a ton of time with one, but there wasn’t anything obviously broken in the RV show unit I toured.
I recommend you save your money and rent one instead. Let these problems stay someone else’s problems.
And the stories of failures are a lot funnier when they’re on someone else’s dime and can make for stronger memories in a good way instead of frustration of having dropped so much cash on a wheeled landfill mound potentially marring the trip.
Cut and paste- boat
I would add getting a used Airstream to the mix. They have the reputation they do for a reason. They still have some of the annoying pitfalls of any other trailer, but they genuinely seem to be built to a higher standard.
I usually suggest the molded fiberglass trailers for quality, but the biggest option there is a Bigfoot 25′ with no slides. So, probably smaller than you’d like. The price on Bigfoots is also probably only worth it if you’re winter camping or full-timing.
Definitely steer clear of anything from a Thor brand (about 60% of them) and be wary of Forest River (another 20-30%). Winnebago/Grand Design is built the same basic way, but they at least put a little effort into QC before they send it off to the dealer. Lance or Northwood (Arctic Fox) are also a notch above the big two.
Also, steer clear of pandemic-ish years. Pre-2020 will be better, but probably a 2024 or 2025 will at least be better than 2020-2023 were.
Our 2016 RV may be a total by insurance due to reasons out of my control.
I have been looking at new RVs as the wife & I both work from home and we use the RV anywhere from 30-90 nights a year. Usually close to 60 nights…..
Stay away from the big 2….Thor and Forest River. Everyone we have looked at has issues right on the sales lot.
2020-2023 used units are COVID crap.
That said, as far as bigger brands go that are available nation wide, I like what I see with Northwoods/Artic Fox, Lance, Brinkley and Alliance. I am giving them all a hard look.
All use some standard RV components, but all are better built than the big 2……all are also…..at least for now…..independent companies….
What a mess. Those rigs built during the pandemic RV boom are just awful. I wouldn’t buy an Elkhart built RV unless you really know what you’re doing and can fix things yourself without relying on the dealer. Still that’s tough if you need any replacement parts. Your parents dealer sounds pretty awful (stealing cushions!?) but still better than most considering they eventually got some repairs completed. Your parents are going to lose a bunch of money either way, from taking a huge hit on resale, or sinking about of money into repairs. Personally, I’d rip off the bandaid and be done with it.
Sounds like ripping off the bandaid will save money in the long run.
There needs to be a lemon law for these if there isn’t already, that will go a long way towards solving this issue.
Also, while the warranty has expired, isn’t anything documented prior to the expiration still covered? So your parents may not have to pay for everything out of pocket.
This reaffirms my belief that if you really want an RV or trailer, it’s best to DIY. Used RVs and trailers have horrible resale value anyway, so as long as depreciation isn’t a factor, you may as well build it to your own tastes and standards.
I would never buy into someone else’s RV project, but I wouldn’t be opposed to building my own trailer. It does suck to so much innovation and seemingly great quality coming out of the European, Asian, and Australian RV markets, but such trash for the US markets.
Steve Lehto! There’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time!
Also, my offer to turn this thing into considerably-more-valuable scrap still stands.