Living in a 5th wheel, IMHO (yeah, don’t be embarrassed I had to google it too–it stands for In My Humble Opinion), is freaking awesome. It’s been a year now, and I have zero regrets. The simplicity is downright sublime. Who knows what the future holds, but I’ll say this, life in 306 ft² has prepared me for all sorts of eventualities. My teeny tiny kitchen has honed my skills to the point that I would find myself right at home in a food truck. And all these overhead storage bins, well, let’s just say, I’d make a damn fine flight attendant. That said, life in a small portable box does come with its share of challenges.

One in particular has vexed me from the start: wastewater. Standard protocol in a park with full hook-ups is this: grey water lines stay open; black water line is closed. Kitchen and bath water flow out freely and everything that goes into the toilet gets collected. The idea being that if left open, solids will likely get stuck in the line and trust me, no one wants that. Typically I empty my black water about every two weeks, but that varies from trailer to trailer depending on frequency, output, capacity, etc. When it’s time to empty (you’ll know), close the grey water lines for a day or two. This serves as the rinse water. Once you’ve got at least a shower’s worth of water built up, you’re good to go. Release the Kraken, ahem, the black water and follow up with the grey. Usually once a month or so I’ll go a step further, close my black water line back up, drag a hose inside, fill the tank with fresh water, and then empty it again. I have no idea if this really helps, but it makes me feel better.

Problem is, as the black water collects, it doesn’t really smell all that great. Fact is, shit stinks. Nothing remotely reminiscent of rose petals occurs in the loo. And now you’ve got a foul tank of crap festering underneath your home.

Various products exist to combat this issue. For simplicity’s sake, let’s break them down into with formaldehyde and without formaldehyde. Not being a huge fan of known carcinogens, I have opted for the products without. One in particular was recommended to me by my trusty RV repair guy (who, incidentally, shows up in a badass converted ambulance!).

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It’s called Pure Power Blue and works by way of enzymes and active bacteria to essentially digest the offending waste. I honestly can’t say I’m sold, but it definitely works better than some other products I tried at the beginning. That said, if something out there exists that truly eliminates the stench, please, I’m all ears. Anyway, once you pick your particular additive, and after you’ve emptied the black water and closed up the valve, add the recommended amount, a few gallons of water, and voila. In theory this should keep the odors at bay until the next purge.

Key words: in theory. Even with regular maintenance and proper treatments, my home quite often was less than inviting. Especially in ye ol’ water closet. After researching “why does my RV smell like my black water tank” I realized I wasn’t alone, and I came across the Cyclone Sewer Vent. It’s a specialized vent cap designed to pull the repugnant fumes up, up and away rather than allow them to seep inside and stew throughout my humble abode. There are a number of versions of this type of cap, some upwards of $75, but this one got great reviews and was way friendlier on my pocketbook.

Now, as things sometimes go, life stepped in and my fancy new vent spent the next four months on my kitchen table. There were leaks to contend with, jobs to hunt down, and well, plenty of other matters that at the time seemed far more pressing than climbing onto my roof in 100º weather to replace a vent cap.


Pro-tip: If you one day find yourself on the verge of vomiting while in your RV, take it from me, go straight to the shower. Or grab a trash can. Whatever you do, do NOT hurl into the toilet. The reservoir is entirely too small. In no time flat you’ll be faced with a revolting bowl full of puke and forced to open the portal. Mark my words, there is nothing so vile as hovering directly over the pits of hell. Unless of course you’ve been writhing in nauseous agony for hour upon wretched hour and need something to tip the scales. I guaran-damn-tee you this’ll do the trick.  


Anywho, back to the fumes, and the new cap. The day finally arrived and it was high time to get ‘er done. Fortunately I’ve got a large tree to my east and my roof stays shaded until close to noon. This time of year that equates to a temperature of roughly 95º in the shade as opposed to somewhere in the realm of 140º in the full sun. Having been out of work for the better part of two months, I’ve become accustomed to getting plenty of beauty rest. By the time I rolled out of bed, sipped my coffee, ate breakfast, and got caught up on the presidential debacle du jour, it was closing in on 11am. Armed with my trusty bag of tricks, I climbed on the roof.

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First, a look at the vent with the old cap. Well, relatively old. A year, in fact. There wasn’t a cap at all when I bought my 5th wheel. God only knows what may have tried to make its home down that pipe prior to my purchase, but suffice it to say, I didn’t check and it’s entirely possible I have a family of dead rodents in my holding tank. Which, in all fairness, would explain the horrific stench, but I still have no intention of inspecting the matter further and that is pretty much that.

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According to the video on the Camco website, the next few steps involved scraping the old caulk (careful not to gouge the roof), removing the base of the vent thus exposing the PVC pipe, cleaning away any old putty and/or caulk, sliding the new vent over the PVC pipe, screwing it down, and re-caulking the whole dang thing.

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Cap removed. Um, the scraping looked waaaaaay easier on the video.
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F*** the scraping, get these screws out.
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Ta-dah!!! The pipe to the pits of hell. And a bunch of holes in my roof.

At this point I made two executive decisions. First, I turned on my flashlight and cautiously peered down the pipe to hell. Aside from a spiderweb (of all the places, and you chose here?!?), all I could ascertain was that the pipe curved dramatically within the first five inches and whatever skeletons might lay beyond were going to stay there. Next I calculated that any attempt to scrape away all the old putty and caulk was 97% likely to end in a new hole in my roof and surely the new caulk would stick just fine to the old. I made one half-ass effort to clean the area and barreled on.

My bag of tricks contained one tube of silicone and one tube of Dicor self-leveling caulk, which according to my research was the end all be all of RV roof sealants. Running with the idea that two caulks are better than one, I first applied silicone to the screw holes. Given that the base of the Cyclone cap was smaller than the old one and the holes would be exposed, I wanted to make damn sure they were plugged and covered.

Time to slide on the new cap and screw it to the pipe. I didn’t get any pics of this process because I only have two hands and seem to always be lacking an assistant/videographer for these home improvement projects. I suppose I should consider a Go-Pro if I want to get serious about this tutorial business, but nah, I’ll stick to writing about it. Suffice it to say, my handy dandy Fiskars hand cranked drill worked wonders. Laugh all you want. It is without a doubt my very favorite tool.

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With the new cap screwed in place, it was time for the caulk. This was actually my first time using a caulk gun, and I admit I won’t be winning any awards for neatness, but I think I did a fine job. It does, however, beg the question: Is it possible to have too much caulk?

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And now, for the moment of truth, drumroll please… The shitter doesn’t stink! Well, sure, it still stinks if you stick your face in it, but the fumes are doing just what they are supposed to be doing: wafting up, up, and away! Halle-freaking-lujah! Mind you, it’s still August in Texas and short of a hurricane in the Gulf I won’t know if I’m worth my salt with a caulk gun any time soon, but given how many other leaks I’ve had to contend with lately, I’m more than willing to wait on that verdict. In the meantime I can now confidently invite company over without feeling compelled to offer gas masks at the door.

UPDATE (9/01/2017): Careful what you wish for, because you see, remember that August hurricane in the Gulf I mentioned? Well, we got it. His name was Harvey, and he’s not one we’re gonna forget anytime soon. That said, I’m happy to report my caulking job appears to have been successful. Mind you, two of my windows are duct taped shut to prevent leaks, and I’ve got a snazzy blue tarp over my kitchen slide out, but my home is in tact and I’m not surrounded by flood waters. It may be getting a little whiskey tango around here, but things could be way worse.