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RV LIVING - It was a bright, sunny morning when I decided to take my RV for a drive along the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) in Malibu. I had always dreamed of parking my rig by the ocean, with the waves crashing just a stone’s throw away, the salty breeze drifting through my windows. It seemed like the perfect way to spend the weekend—just me, the open road, and the sea.
I found what looked like the perfect spot, right on the shoulder of PCH. The view was breathtaking, with the sun sparkling off the water and the mountains rising behind me. I could see why so many others had parked their RVs along this stretch of highway. It felt like my own little slice of paradise.
But paradise didn’t last long.
As I settled in, I started noticing the cars speeding by, just feet away from where I was parked. The narrowness of the road became glaringly obvious, and it wasn’t long before I realized just how dangerous my chosen spot was. Every time a truck or a larger vehicle passed, my RV shook slightly, and I began to worry about the possibility of an accident. The thought of someone not seeing me in time, or losing control and crashing into my RV, crept into my mind and wouldn’t leave.
My concerns grew when I overheard some of the other RVers talking about accidents that had happened on this very stretch of road. It turns out, I wasn’t the only one who had second thoughts after parking. One of them mentioned how a parked RV had been sideswiped by a car late at night, causing a serious accident that left both vehicles in ruins. The idea of that happening to me was terrifying.
Then there was the environmental aspect. I’d always considered myself to be respectful of nature, but as I looked around, I noticed the trash that had accumulated near some of the other RVs. Worse, I learned that not everyone was disposing of their waste properly. Some were dumping sewage directly onto the ground or into nearby drains, which led straight to the ocean. The thought of contributing to the pollution of this beautiful place made me feel guilty.
I also hadn’t considered the impact on the local community. As the day went on, I saw more and more cars driving up and down PCH, searching for a place to park so their occupants could access the beach. My RV, along with the others, was taking up prime real estate, making it harder for them to find a spot. I could see the frustration on their faces as they drove by, and it hit me that my idyllic weekend getaway might be causing more harm than good.
The final straw came when a police officer knocked on my door. He was polite but firm as he explained that parking an RV on PCH was not allowed in many areas due to the safety risks and environmental concerns. He warned me that I could be fined or towed if I stayed. I didn’t need any more convincing. The last thing I wanted was to cause trouble or end up in a dangerous situation.
I packed up my things and started driving, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. My dream of a perfect Malibu weekend had turned into a lesson in reality. As I drove away from the coast, I realized that some places are just too special, too fragile, to be treated casually. PCH in Malibu is one of those places—a stunning stretch of highway that deserves respect and care.
Looking back, I’m glad I left when I did. I found a proper RV park not too far away, where I could enjoy the beauty of the area without the risks and consequences of parking on PCH. I still love the idea of waking up by the ocean, but now I know there’s a right way to do it—a way that keeps me safe, respects the environment, and doesn’t infringe on the local community.
Sometimes, the most important part of a journey is learning when to move on. And that’s exactly what I did.
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