Go Big or Go Home! That was the battle cry heard on the convention floor at the Florida RV SuperShow in Tampa this past weekend. Gargantuan displays by the major luxury motorcoach manufacturers were in no short supply. Names like Newmar, Phaeton, Prevost and others were out in full force.
Starting at $250,000 but rapidly climbing into the million-dollar stratosphere, I always thought these were the coaches that escorted the rock stars to the music festivals we attend. Apparently, they’re for some (very elite) fans, too.
With RV sales pushing up strongly in the last couple of years, we are seeing a surge in sales of high-end rigs. With the stock market is hitting new highs and the Donald having restructured corporate taxes and reduced the tax brackets for everyone across the board, it seems discretionary income is rising and trickling down to put a lot more RV within reach for many.
Regardless of whether these monster rigs are within your reach, people can dream. Marble floors, granite countertops, and rare hardwood finishes are certainly not something often seen in the campgrounds at most arts or music festivals.
Nor are they anything that I would add to my festival experience.
We saw plenty of large travel trailers accompanying the diesel pushers and other class A motorhomes at the SuperShow. Also bountiful were the enormous “fifth wheels.” These trailers are pulled, by pickup trucks, using a hitch in the pick-up’s bed. These behemoths were lined up tail to nose and seemed to go on endlessly.
Large is an understatement. They are some of the largest RVs made, and can stretch 45 feet and weigh in at over five tons.
Fifth wheels are often used for what RV peeps call “full-time living” or “full timing.” Many people will spend years in them, either travelling across the States sightseeing or in jobs that relocate often.
Prices can easily top $100,000 for standard models, and go much higher for top-of-the-line finishes or a custom rig.
Like some MacDaddy RVs, fifth wheels to many are overkill for festivals, but they’re always a part of the scene. Given the challenge of navigating Bertha around crowded campsites, larger fifth wheels could be darn-near impossible to get around smaller, crowded, and tree-lined fests. Though it often loses the allure of “camping,” large parking lot-style camping is less of an issue for massive rigs.
Also popular at the SuperShow were a newer class of RV called the “Super C.” This RV is basically a “Class C” motorhome on steroids. You’ve seen the typical Class C RV. It has a van front cab and its chassis has a larger fiberglass shell wider and taller than the actual cab front. (A smaller variation is the Class B or “Sprinter,” which typically retains the original van body). The Airstream Tommy Bahama signature version was truly magnificent, and priced around $127,000.
These Super Cs elevate the Class C concept by using a Freightliner (or similar make) truck cab, and a monster body that is wider than the truck cab itself. They look wholly more commercial than recreational RV. Fuel guzzling is complementary with these big rigs. As is the cost. Prices ranged from $250,000 to upward of $1 million.
Talk about not fitting the festival ethos. I don’t think we’ll be pulling into Okeechobee Festival, Peach, or Lockn in one of these rigs. Just doesn’t seem to fit the bill for us. I remember when a huge Freightliner cab pulled a fifth wheel into Lockn a few years back. It caught everyone’s eye, but was so big it had to be parked on the end of a row to fit.
We’ve already written – and will write more – about smaller options for “glamping,” or glamorous camping. They seemed to be in the minority at the SuperShow. But they were there for the observant eye. There were a few very small tear-drop trailers and pop-ups on display, perhaps the least costly rigs to be had. Tiny tear-drops presented by American Teardrop were on sale for around $2,000 and rising to a eye opening $30,000 for top of the line models; entry-level pop-ups can be had for around $5,000 – even less, if you shop used or online.
Hey, to each his own. We’ve seen hippies step out of a MacDaddy diesel pusher and late model Audis drive up with a teardrop in tow. While we prefer the trailers our pick-ups can pull, it’s not about the size or panache of the accommodations (though you’d be well advised to make sure the festival grounds can serve up the power and space you’ll need to glamp in comfort). It’s where you want to lay your head at the end of a long day – and night – of festival fun.