The staff is uber-friendly, again KOA-style, not only providing us with ample information about the park itself, but loads of info on the local attractions, including a state park you can get out and paddleboat on and the very nearby Carlsbad Caverns National Park. In fact, aside from White City (which looked very cool but unfortunately we didn’t see it until the next day), it’s about as close as you can get to Carlsbad Caverns, one of the rare national parks you can’t stay overnight in.

The bathrooms are nice a clean, they have an indoor, heated swimming pool (though staying in August, there was no need for any additional heat) and plenty of tent spaces, grills, picnic tables and even a few trees. A petting zoo, a turtle pond, a very well stocked store… I would most definitely recommend this place to anyone staying in Carlsbad or planning to visit the nearby National Park.

The park staff are incredibly inviting, one of them being from Pittsburgh and welcoming us right in, the other a somewhat portly gentleman dressed in a red shirt and overalls. If he’d only had a mustache he could have easily passed for Super Mario’s older brother. Very clean, spacious bathrooms and laundry, as well as a very small store with some snacks, water and coffee, round out this park’s amenities. There is a rather large playground just outside the park, which is actually part of the Pecos Zoo. Quite the spectacle on its own, the zoo seems more like someone’s farm with semi-exotic animals, ranging from common farm inhabitants such as a donkey and some sheep, to the more surreal bison, peacock and even an ostrich. In fact, my first encounter with the zoo was as I rode my bicycle up to the closest gas station, about a half mile from the RV park itself. Minding my own business, riding a stretch of side road that parallels I-20, I suddenly noticed the silhouette of a large, wobbly dinosaur-like creature against the setting sun. A second look revealed it to be Pecos’ resident ostrich, it’s head towering over the barbed wire fence that served as its likely final home. When I moved closer to the beast it crouched down, fanned out its wings to double its body size, and scrunched up its neck, swaying back and forth in what I couldn’t be sure as to whether it was a defensive, offensive, or mating position. I’d like to think the latter, flattery by bird being one of my weaknesses.

All in all this park is a great place for an overnight (cheap, too, we got it for $19 and only the next morning did I realize that the place very well may have been a Passport America park — they’re definitely an Escapees park, though). Wifi access is available for $3 / night and was a little slow but got the job done. Pecos itself seemed like a quaint little town (the staff even informed me that the local Walmart was a “small” one, which I thought certainly would be an oxymoron but apparently the town likes to keep itself as authentic as possible).

Our time at Grand Canyon National Park, with Tristan’s brother Ryan, RVing at Trailer Village, exploring the rim, hiking the canyon and so much more!

As for Trailer Village, well it automatically gets points from me simply for having the word “trailer” in it. Anything that alludes to the reality that while we may like to think of ourselves as living nomads, traveling bards, gypsy ambassadors to the hip crusade, in all reality, we are two pieces of American trailer trash (with deep roots to prove it) rolling around on an ever-breaking box on wheels. In fact, were it not for Tristan and I’s successful attempt at snagging us a cosmopolitan African woman, we would probably not even know how to type let alone operate a website.

Just looking at the stats you can see that this is likely the most highly rated park I’ve ever reviewed here, and to be honest, if it were anywhere else in the world it would probably be just another average place. But the fact that it cost us $32 / night to stay next to one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World, and that every basic necessity was met: from the giant grocery store and cafe with WiFi not half a mile away to the free shuttle service Grand Canyon National Park provides all over the park to the fact that the Steelers shlamboozled the Cardinals in their first (preseason) game while we were here all made this park highly worth the stay.

Oh, and shooting stars beamed down over our heads on a nightly basis. Seriously, I started to wonder if Disney bought the rights to Grand Canyon and was adding a little extra movie magic.

I don’t have much to say about the park itself, it’s small, the arrangement of RVs is sort of in a horseshoe behind the large office, which has a kitchy little garden out front complete with friendly skinny black cat and suspicious fat black cat, and it’s right on US 60, which is fast becoming one of my favorite highways, at least the stretch from Phoenix and leading clear into New Mexico. A curving, mountainous climb of a two laner that stretches through Tonto National Forest, Apache land, and barters any hope of cell phone service in exchange for continually changing gorgeous forest mount scenery.

I might also mention that we somewhat successfully managed to access Terminal 4 of the Phoenix Skyharbor Airport in our 29 foot + 4 feet of bike rack RV, finding a small spec of extra parking lot far back in the corner (they call it the Gecko zone). I must mention that “success” is relative, as I did manage to hop a curb or two and bust off a rear reflector, though to no great damage. Anyway, such details are again, only provided in the small hope they might find fellow familial RVers with a need to visit Phoenix for reasons more airborne some help.

We could see tiny slivers of the Colorado boasting through from our vantage at Yavapai Point, the mightiest river in the world, or at least theist determined, having been determined so many eons ago to make its way through the sedimentary, the igneous, the metamorphic, every golden, maroon and black layer history of this flailing space rock of Earth.

We walked the rim a few miles, every corner a new color, new distant view, the feeling of suspended fear of heights pushing up on us all, even as the youngest or bravest of us ventured step by inchworm step closer to the edge, precipitous, frightening and inviting. To run amd jump from this Paul Bunyon Trail into the depths of Mother Gaia would easily be the most fulfilling way to die.

Later, as the sum wore itself out, our grill’s charcoals losing their glow and belly’s filled with tuna steaks and golden sweet cobbed corn, we would celebrate a birthday as we watched meteors shower down through a black sky, the Milky Way their eternally distant backdrop.

The boys and Olivia would make wishes on each one, some instant flecks of speeding light, others blessed with a comet’s tail as they slowly fizzled into our atmosphere. Myself, I didn’t wish upon a single star, not out of waste or misguided notions of the frivalty or child’s play of such an endeavor, but simply because I have so little left to wish for. I’m happy thankful for everything I’ve lucked upon, and if it all had to end tomorrow, perhaps over that Grand Canyon of a cliffside, I would be satisfied enough for three lifetimes.

The park itself is a true campground, with plenty of giant Ponderosa Pines and dirt-lined roads. The showers are small, the toilets much more so, in fact I had to leave the door open just to sit down, but they’re clean enough, as far as RV parks go.

There is free WiFi in and around the office only, but there are three areas that you can sit down and plugin: an inside room with a small table that is open 24/7, a picnic table out front where you’re sure to be able to strike up plenty of conversation with the management and other parkgoers, and a little gazebo area with two tables in the back which was always empty and provided some privacy to get some work done or just browse in solitude.

The management here were very nice, the husband part of the duo had a great life story, having been a logger and machinist in the Idaho backcountry, boondocking in his RV for over 40 years before moving to Flagstaff to get his working hands out of the frigid weather. My biggest gripe about this park is that for some reason beyond the understanding of any mortal man, you aren’t allowed to ride your bicycle around the park. I mean, it’s practically a forest, and somehow they don’t allow two silent wheels to roll around the dirt paths. Ridiculous.

All in all though, given it’s proximity to downtown Flagstaff, I would definitely rate this park a winner.

A lot of reviews online state RVers distaste for this park because of the longterm element who live here, and there do seem to be quite a few people living here fulltime, and they are the type who have long beards, leather vests and ride old Harleys. Personally, I don’t find that offputting, but less able campers might prefer to avoid these types of people. Might I suggest to those folks that they try the Super 8 Motel down the street?

We would have loved to have stayed longer at this park and much preferred it to the funeral home that is Pine Lawn Ranch, but unfortunately we had to work and we could neither get cell phone reception or WiFi in the park, so despite it’s charms and the fact that it’s one of Arizona’s few parks where they don’t mind the sound of a beer bottle opening or children laughing, we moved on after only staying a single night.

There ends the appeal of this park for anyone who isn’t on their deathbed. It is one of Arizona’s infamous 55+ parks, though the website will tell you different. While the site clearly states that anyone wishing to live in the park fulltime (and these are people who live in “trailers” so large they compete with most houses in more populated states) must be 55 years or more ancient, it also plainly explains that this age restriction does not apply to nightly or weekly RVers.

We were coming from another RV park just outside of town early in the morning, but had to make a quick stop at the local grocery store first. I called the office at Pine Lawn Ranch and mentioned we were coming, asking if they had space for us. We were assured that their was plenty of space and a reservation would not be necessary. So imagine my surprise when we showed up and the woman told us their was no room at the inn, so to speak.

I informed her that we called ahead only a few hours ago and were told we could get a spot for a week, to which we exchanged several long, awkward moments of silence, until finally she gave in and said we could stay. I guess a spot suddenly opened up while we were waiting. We paid the fee and were given the last overnighter spot in the park, which was literally 2 inches wider than our RV. It took us around 35 minutes to somehow wedge ourselves into the 45 degree spot between some beautiful trees. The spot itself was gorgeous, with plenty of shade from the beating Southwestern sun, and an ample little cement porch surrounded by a low stone fence, but an RV spot is pushing it. The spot is likely better suited for a camper van at best.

The owner’s wife, the dodgy woman who admitted us in the first place, so sweet of her, kindly informed us that children are not allowed to leave our spot, and certainly no bicycle riding was permitted in the park. This last bit was particularly interesting as two days later the owner’s own grandchildren were riding their bikes around the park, largely unsupervised.

The park has no bathrooms or showers, so bring your own bathtub, and their is no store, but you’re so close to town it’s really not necessary for them to have one. There is no WiFi access either.

All in all, the location is the prime benefit of this park, and if you’re older than 55 or have no children, it’s a great way to go. But if you prefer to not feel like your parents are always looking over your shoulder, you may want to try out one of the parks outside of town.