Let’s talk about everyone’s favorite part of camping… yep, the dreaded black tank. Now, I know, I know — if done right it’s “no big deal” and 99.9% of the time it all goes just as expected. This isn’t about the dump itself — this is about the circus of supplies it takes to get the job done.
If you own a 226RK, you already know the pain. Not only do you have to carry hoses for the grey and black tanks, but some engineer (who clearly designed this rig while sipping a soy, no-foam, double-pump, pumpkin spice, decaf latte at Starbucks) decided that it would be “fun” to give the 226RK a second grey tank valve. And where’s the handle for it? Oh, just hidden way up under the camper so the “happy camper” has to crawl around in the dirt to find it. Because, you know, putting it next to the other two handles in the pass-through would have been way too convenient.
So now instead of one hose and a sidewinder, we are blessed with the need for an extra set of hoses, sidewinders, elbows, and of course, the all-important Y connector. That’s right — because with two drain points, we now have to merge them like some kind of sewer DJ mixing tracks. And naturally, campsites seem to have a rule that one of those hoses will always need to defy gravity and flow uphill. So out comes your inner mechanical engineer, rigging up a sketchy support system to convince water (and other… “stuff”) to flow the right direction. Did I mention you’ll also need two 45-degree elbows just to start the hoses pointing the right way? Yep. By this point, you’re basically running a small wastewater treatment plant out of your campsite.
But hey, once you get everything hooked up, you’re a happy camper… for about 72 hours. Then it’s teardown time! Dump the black tank, watch the “show,” then dump the grey tank to flush out the rest. Oh wait, didn’t get it all? Better fill the black tank back up and do it again. Then comes the dance: disconnect the hose, blast it out, lift it over your shoulder like you’re carrying a python back to the zoo, and walk it to the end so every last drop makes its exit. Cap it, repeat with the second hose, then pack up your entire collection of sewer-themed Tinker Toys back into storage.
And let’s not forget gloves. Ever notice how the second you put them on and touch that first hose, your nose suddenly itches like crazy? Every. Single. Time.
Now remember — that’s all the fun when you’re at a full hookup site. If you’re doing this routine at a dump station… well, that’s a horror story for another day (aka the 0.01% of the time).
So until next time… happy camping — and may your hoses always flow downhill.
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