Fed up with the high price and hassles of travel, businessman Ken Hawk made a radical decision a few months ago. On his next trip, he would take the road less traveled–in a Winnebago.
Now, looking back, he says the trip was a great success. So what if it took seven hours of driving through the desert to get to the trade show in Las Vegas? So what if he had to park in a campground on the outskirts of the city while colleagues prowled the glittering strip? So what if some sneered at the thought of bunking down in a place called Circusland RV Park?
“Some might think using a motor home was cheesy,” says Hawk, who owns a small electronics concern in Reno, Nev., “but it was a lot more convenient than flying.”
Hawk is part of a quirky but independent breed of business traveler: the corporate Kerouac. While some executives ride the low road because of an intense fear of flying, among them sports broadcaster John Madden, these folks are simply fed up with the inconveniences of jet-age travel–flight delays, lost luggage, long lines at the car-rental counter. RV riders aren’t exactly roughing it, though. Their big rigs are decked out with all the comforts of home and office, from leather recliners, barbecue grills and marble bathrooms to fax machines, computers and satellite dishes.
Comfy doesn’t come cheap, though. High-end motor homes cost $150,000 to $800,000. Then there are campground fees, tolls and hefty insurance bills, which can run several thousand dollars a year. Delays from everything from breakdowns to traffic jams are a part of this life, too.
Leasing is an option. Hawk rented his 30-foot Winnebago for a week for about $1,200. Fuel cost him an additional $300. (Large motor homes get 6 to 10 miles per gallon.) But Hawk and others say the experience is worth it.
“It sure beats eating peanuts in the middle seat in coach at 30,000 feet, wondering about your bags,” says Paul Dailey of New Braunfels, Texas, a corporate trainer who uses a motor home to call on clients around the country.
Hotel and airline officials needn’t worry about a major loss of revenue; only a tiny percentage of business travelers want to feel the wind in their hair. But the development might give them pause.
“This trend may be a small one,” says Norman Sherlock, executive director of the National Business Travel Association in Alexandria, Va., which represents corporate travel managers. “But it’s indicative of how cumbersome traditional forms of corporate travel have become.”
But the real reason business travelers go for these big rigs usually goes unspoken: Motor homes allow them to indulge their quirks. Germ phobias? An RV means you never need sleep on a strange mattress. Fluffy won’t stay in a kennel? Take the feline along. For those who just can’t travel light, a motor home means never having to smash a suitcase shut again. Or leave behind that special pillow.
Consider Gary and Laurie Goldstein of Chicago, equity-research analysts who travel by motor home to visit mining, mineral and paper companies. Their 37-foot RV is stuffed with five high-performance computers, 400 movies on video, three televisions, three VCRs and an original painting by Joan Miro. The exterior bristles with three satellite dishes that allow them to download market information. Hitched to the back is their Saab.
“We have no friends, we have no life–except for our work,” Goldstein says. “Why should we do without any of our possessions?”
Other RVers are workaholics who can’t bear the thought of a misspent moment. A rolling office lets them work around the clock. Restaurateur Aaron Fechter has a home in Orlando but says he spends most of his time roaming around Florida in his RV visiting proposed sites for a new restaurant venture featuring karaoke for kids.
Even in his hometown, Fechter says he prefers to sack out in the RV. “Go home just to sleep?” he says. “A waste of time.” He isn’t fussy about where he pulls over for the night–as long as it isn’t a campground for RVs. “Too confining,” he says. So most nights will find him in a parking lot, preferably in front of a video store so he can shuttle back and forth, renting videos all night to view on the big-screen TV in his RV.
Then, when the sun comes up, he begins anew the search for the perfect restaurant site. “If you live and breathe your work,” he says, “a motor home is the way to go.”
Lumbering down the interstate in a land yacht may not be life in the fast lane, but it suits Paul and Kathleen Dailey, corporate trainers from Texas, who bought a purple-carpeted 34-foot RV a few years ago for $70,000. Tired of rooms reeking of stale smoke and other nasty surprises they would encounter in budget hotels, the couple decided a few years ago to make their motor home their office while doing work in Detroit for such clients as Ford Motor Co. and Cadillac, a division of General Motors Corp.
Now, the couple uses the motor home to whisk clients away from the factories to conduct meetings at nearby parks. While burgers sizzle on the grill and beverages chill in the cooler, the Daileys and their clients pore over projects at a picnic table.
On a particularly hot day last summer, auto-industry executives rolled up their pants and waded in a stream before buckling down to work. The Daileys’ RV isn’t roomy enough for big groups to meet, but some clients see that as a plus. “Conducting business in the RV forces you to keep the group smaller for better focus,” says Ron Caponey, an engineer at Cadillac.
There are drawbacks, of course. Some motor homes are barred from using certain highways because of their weight, forcing drivers to take time-consuming detours. Breakdowns can be expensive. Finding a tow truck that can haul a motor home may be difficult, and local garages usually aren’t equipped to repair RVs. So owners may have to have their big rigs towed long distances to shops that service trucks. RV owners need to be pretty self-reliant and handy with a wrench.
“My wife says I’m the only Wall Street analyst she’s ever seen with mechanic’s hands,” Goldstein says.
Once, a section of the roof collapsed during a torrential rainstorm in the Minnesota backwoods. The Goldsteins plugged the leaks with their clothes until repairs could be made.
Another time, their motor home stalled on a busy highway because of a short in the electrical system. Goldstein fixed that with a metallic gum wrapper–but not before traffic had backed up two miles.
But even with the occasional problems, the Goldsteins say they wouldn’t trade their lifestyle for a more conventional one. “We like to travel,” Goldstein says, “but on our own terms.”
