Mice, Mud, and Meetings: The Stuff Nobody Tells You About Working From an RV

Let me paint you a picture.

It’s 8:47 AM on a Tuesday. I’m logged into a a a large enterprise team meeting, camera off because I’m in a Thor Compass 23TW parked in a field in Tennessee. My AI agent is running through a stack of tasks in the background. My wife is in the back bedroom with the door closed, transcribing a deposition.

And there’s a cardinal attacking my driver’s side mirror.

Not once. Not twice. Every single morning for three weeks straight. He sees his reflection, decides it’s a rival, and beats the absolute daylights out of the mirror. At 6 AM. While I’m trying to sleep.

This is the part of RV life the YouTube channels don’t show you.

The Mouse That Changed My Morning Routine

The first week we parked in our Tennessee boondocking spot, I heard scratching under the kitchen cabinet at 2 AM. Not the “maybe it’s the wind” kind of scratching. The “something alive is definitely in here” kind.

By morning, I’d confirmed it. Mouse droppings on the counter. In the RV. Where I eat, sleep, and run an enterprise IT operation for a a large enterprise.

Here’s what I learned fast: when you’re parked in an open field, you’re in their house. You’re the guest. And no matter how many YouTube videos tell you to stuff dryer sheets in your compartments, a motivated field mouse doesn’t care about your Bounce.

What actually worked:

• Lights wrapped underneath the RV, mice don’t like light. Wrapped LED string lights around the undercarriage and it’s kept them away so far.
• No food left out, ever, this includes crumbs in the toaster and that granola bar wrapper you forgot on the counter.
• Seal every gap you can find, around plumbing, slide-outs, and where wiring enters. They’ll find any opening.

It took about a week to seal everything up. Haven’t had one since. But that first morning, finding mouse droppings on your keyboard, knowing you have a 9 AM stand-up in 20 minutes, that’s a reality check no RV lifestyle blog prepares you for.

Mud Season Is a Whole Different Problem

We’re camped on grass in an open field. Tennessee in spring means rain. Rain on grass means mud. And mud on a 9,500-pound Class B RV means you learn a whole new vocabulary about traction.

I’ve had mornings where I walked to the generator in boots, sinking three inches with every step, just to start the morning power-up so she can log into her court reporting software.

The mud isn’t just inconvenient, it’s a logistics problem. Your generator needs level ground. Your leveling jacks need solid surface. Your outdoor storage compartments become inaccessible when there’s three inches of standing water around the base.

What we figured out:

• Leveling blocks under everything, jacks, generator feet, outdoor mats.
• A pair of dedicated “mud boots” that live outside the door. We don’t wear them inside. Ever.
• Tire traction mats stored under the RV. If it rains three days straight, you’re going to need them to get out.
• Check generator placement after rain, water pools change. What was flat ground yesterday is a puddle today.

None of this shows up in anybody’s “best RV for remote work” listicle. But it’s the difference between a productive Tuesday and calling in to a meeting from your phone because your generator is sitting in a puddle.

The Wildlife Highlight Reel

In six weeks of Tennessee boondocking, here’s what’s visited:

• The cardinal, mirror attacks, daily, 6 AM. Solution: cover the mirrors at night with socks. Yes, socks. It works.
• Field mice, covered above. One was enough.
• A snake skin, spotted about 10 yards out in the grass. I got rid of it, but knowing it was that close to the RV is a different kind of morning wake-up.
• Flies, the second you open a window in spring, they find you. We bought a USB-powered fly trap from Amazon. It works disturbingly well.
• Something large walking around the RV at 3 AM, probably a deer, possibly a coyote. We didn’t investigate. Some things are better as mysteries.

So Why Do We Do This?

I know what you’re thinking. Mice, mud, cardinals, mystery animals at 3 AM, why would anyone choose this?

Because at 5:30 PM, when I close my laptop, I’m sitting in a camp chair in a field in the Tennessee foothills. The air is 65 degrees. The mountains are turning purple. She’s done with her transcripts and we’re grilling something on the portable Weber.

I’m not stuck in traffic on I-25 in Colorado Springs. I’m not looking at the same four walls I’ve looked at for 30 years. I’m watching the sun set over the Appalachian foothills, and my AI agent is running overnight research while I sleep.

The mice are gone. The mud dries. The cardinal will eventually figure out that mirror isn’t another bird.

But this, this evening, this view, this life, this is worth every single inconvenience.

The Real Point

If you’re thinking about RV life, especially if you’re working remotely, don’t let anyone sell you a fantasy. It’s not #vanlife Instagram. It’s real life, with real problems, in a really small space.

But it’s also the most alive I’ve felt in years.

I’m 62. I manage an enterprise IT operation for a a large enterprise. My wife runs a court reporting business. And we do it all from a Thor Compass in a Tennessee field, powered by a Westinghouse generator and Starlink.

The mice, the mud, and the morning cardinal, that’s the cost of admission. And honestly? I’d pay it again tomorrow.

I’m Dominic Ferrara. I write about AI, RV life, health, and what it’s really like to work off-grid after 50. If this made you laugh or think, share it with someone who’s considering the RV life. And subscribe to AI After 50 for weekly stories from the intersection of technology and real life.

Next in the Working From the Road series: Running AI Agents Over Satellite Internet, can Claude Code actually work on Starlink? Spoiler: yes, and here’s exactly how.

More From Working From the Road

This is part of an ongoing series about working from an RV. If you liked this one, check out:

• Working Off-Grid From an RV, the full reality of boondocking while running AI agents
• Your AC Will Kill Your Starlink, the power surge problem nobody warns you about
• Generator Math, what boondocking actually costs in fuel
• The 72-Hour Clock, water, waste, and work interruptions
• How to Use AI to Plan an RV Road Trip, real prompts, real routes

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