Low Stakes, High Drama!

Why reversing a camper trailer can feel like the ultimate pressure test.

I'm taking you right out of the office for the next few minutes, into the great outdoors, the big sky and starry nights. Trust me, if you can pass this pressure test, you can take these tips into any high-stakes scenario.

If you've ever towed a caravan or camper trailer, you've probably already faced this ultimate test of pressure and communication. Regardless, I bet there’s hundreds of low stakes, high drama scenarios that play out just like this.

After a day on the road, dodging road trains and kangaroos, you pull into the campground, usually hungry and tired. You've either been allocated a site or need to choose your own. Either way, you never quite know what you're getting until you pull up to the spot.

For the next 10 minutes or so, you’re put to the test.

We have a driver, a passenger, maybe some kids, a trailer, and a patch of grass or dirt. We need everyone happy with the end result. And we have an audience: other campers, already set up, feet up, fire roaring, beer in hand. They’re watching on and judging your reversing prowess and communication skills.

For at least 20 years, my husband and I have been semi-regular campers. We generally communicate pretty well day-to-day. But in the hundreds of setups and pack-downs, our communication completely breaks down. We argue. We yell. We embarrass ourselves.

Planning our most recent trip, I found myself dreading the arguments we had ahead of us.

I run workshops on communication and self-awareness, and yet all that I know and all that I teach goes right out the window in those moments.

I thought - I've got to crack this!

Before we packed the car, I decided it was time to do something groundbreaking. Something that most of my clients hear me recommend time after time. We had a conversation!

We talked about outcomes: I even borrowed the phrase "paint done" from Brené Brown's Strong Ground. Paint done for our camp setup looked like this: a level bed, no overhanging dead branches; the trailer lined up just right, and enough space around it.

Swap the camp spot for a work scenario, and paint done could be: clear roles and priorities, clarity on what to start, stop and continue, resourcing in place, no mission drift.

We talked about barriers: if I'm standing outside and my husband is reversing, or vice versa, we're often out of each other's line of sight and hearing range. We talked about what frustrates us in those moments (not sharing this 😆). And we came up with a plan together.

At each new spot, we pause. We both get out and walk around the car, trailer, and site. We survey it, the big picture and the micro. The view and the elements, then exactly where we want the corner of the trailer to end up. We remove communication barriers where we can. A plan to jump on our phones to talk to each other through the process. If we're unsure, we pause and check in. Once the setup's done, the fire's going and the wine's poured, we talk about the wins and what we'd do differently.

Feeling excited about the trip (and with me nerding out about the new plan) we took off and headed west.

At the first stop, we got out, walked around, and worked out the setup. Then I grabbed my phone. Of course there was no signal! We'd already hit a barrier to removing our barriers. We paused and worked out a few simple hand signals instead.

This is what person-centred systems look like: adjusting the process because the driver can't hear the passenger.

Over the following two weeks, we had seven stops. Seven chances to fall back into old habits and high drama. It only happened once. On the last night.

We arrived at a gorgeous camp spot on a farm near Cowra, NSW. The owners showed us where to set up, and it wasn't quite as advertised. I admit, I was slightly dysregulated – and hungry. To get into the site, we had to reverse the trailer uphill, around a bend, on muddy ground. Our good systems fell apart. The wheels were spinning, we were yelling, the farm dogs were circling.

With some damage to egos, the ground, and even the trailer, we set up in grumpy silence. But as with most camp spots, the mood shifts once the chairs are out and the kettle’s on. Plus, with no one else around, you soon find yourself talking again.

Overall, the trip was a success. We identified the issue, talked it through, worked out what we both wanted, spotted the barriers, and made a plan. We adjusted it as we went, and in the end, the wins from the first six sites made number seven easier to recover from.

So, is reversing a camper trailer the ultimate pressure test? Honestly, no. Apart from avoiding falling branches and slippery slopes, the main risk was to our egos. But that's why it's useful. When the stakes are this low, it can be easy to see the framework that's needed. And to then apply it to high stakes scenarios.

Outcome → barriers → plan → adjust → reflect.

It's not complicated. But it's easy to skip a step when you're under pressure, whether that pressure is a muddy hill or a missed deadline. The teams that recover fastest aren't the ones who never fall apart. They're the ones who pause, work through the problem together, and figure out the hand signals before they need them.

Sometimes you still end up in the mud. If so - boil the kettle and have a chat.