by Brent Peterson Along the way, some folks simply got fed up with the mercurial ways of their diesel engines. For the majority of the year, things were good – powerful performance, superior mileage, and pleasingly low maintenance costs. But when the temperatures dipped, some diesel pushers used to take on the persona of my brother Bruce in the morning – sluggish. Sure, eventually he’ll move, but you gotta stay on him every minute, and he’ll definitely fight you every step of the way. These chronic slow starts cost my brother his senior year and a high school diploma. For RVers looking at dropping the nest egg on a diesel, there too is a lot at stake. Fortunately, the much-improved diesel engines of today don’t slouch and groan under the imposed rule of cold temps like their predecessors. Contemporary engines are designed for easy starts and smooth performance – even during a February joyride through Buffalo. And true, most of us own motorhomes to avoid any such perilous weather in the first place, so what does it matter? Well, we in the Midwest worry about such things as arctic conditions lasting until May. Considering our winters often last longer than the Cubs’ season, a frigid and snowy road test like the one I recently concluded of Monaco’s Knight offers a nice look at how far diesels have come. Although the winter season is just beginning here, the 36PBS unit chosen for the review already sat gray and wind-slapped. December in these parts has an uncanny way of making new vehicles—and their owners—look old. A week’s worth of single digit wind chills will do that to you. Luckily, a warm front had moved in – it was 12 degrees the day I camped in the Knight’s cockpit wondering how it would perform. A week’s worth of “light dustings,” (a.k.a., daily snows of less than three inches) had added up, so I’d be contending with slick conditions, too. And it didn’t take a genius to know that some of my beloved backroads would be haphazardly plowed. Let the games begin. The Knight broke the dark afternoon with a rather triumphant burst of diesel machismo. The engine started quickly – no sweet-talking required. I let it idle for a bit—an old diesel habit—before slipping out the gate at the Monaco plant. Watch for ice, I reminded myself. Take it slow, I cautioned. Shut up and drive, I finally countered. The diesel chewed the terrain like an August day. Turning was extremely sharp, uncomplicated by the miles of icy roads and the snug maneuverings required at the nearby state park. Jaunts through town were made easy, backing up the 36-footer a non-event. Even the obligatory Y-turn on a less-than-desirable country road went better than expected. Shifting was effortless, with no signs of uneasiness. I never heard even a single frozen gnarl out of the Knight that entire trip. Acceleration started a little lackadaisical, but quickly caught its groove and finished on an upnote. Braking was more than adequate. On a slick and frosty day like this, I was glad to be at the helm of 20,000 pounds of road-clinging vehicle. Now for a look at life onboard. The Knight starts off strong at the front and continues in that steady vein throughout the rest of the coach. Gone is the space-hogging center console one usually finds in Class A cockpits, good news for everyone, since it’s one less thing to contend with when entering the passenger-side door. In its place, a smaller, much more practical two-drawer setup, which economizes space and serves as a perfect spot for coins, sunglasses and other driving essentials. All-important maps go in either the entryway magazine rack (also outfitted with a handle to help folks inside), or inside storage pockets equipped on the back of each of the cockpit chairs. Yes, there’s still a set of drink holders. Don’t worry, the radio is still within reach. Another cockpit coup is the inconspicuous placement of the 25" television, perched overhead between the captain and co-pilot seats. Monaco designers did a nice job of installing a TV large enough to be viewed from the anywhere in the front half of the coach, yet without the heavy, monolithic (and not to mention potentially head-butting) presence such a lofty appliance can sometimes yield. The decked-out living room configuration is obviously more concerned with comfort than it is with padding the sleeping numbers, at least in the way this model was furnished. The pullout sofa is definitely the room’s major workhorse, cushy and spacious by day, stretching out into a very nice bed at night. It’s plenty big enough for two, lays perfectly flat, and long enough for any six-footers in your crew. The bed deploys easily, with removable armrests adding vital inches to an already sizable sleeping dimension. Well done here. The queen-size bed in the back is the only other place onboard to sleep – a bummer if you’ve got the Boy Scouts tagging along, but perfectly fine for a pair of full-timers or a small family. A terrific freestanding recliner substitutes for a traditional loveseat/small pullout bed typically (but listed as an option), and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The recliner is a great place to sit and fully movable if you should want out of the curbside corner where it resides. But I doubt you’ll be going anywhere. This nook is well lit, features a phone jack and wall outlets for a computer or whatever, as well as a small, fold-down table for an impromptu snack or place for papers. Monaco whimsically refers to it as a “party table,” which is a bit of a stretch, but it’s a useful addition. The freestanding dinette (option) and its four chairs won’t harbor sleepy kids no matter how you configure it. The tabletop isn’t quite wide enough for four people and—all told—things are a little cramped. I think the standard booth dinette/convertible bed is the way to go, particularly for those traveling with larger families always craving extra sleeping nooks. Otherwise, the main living space follows the Monaco doctrine to the letter: lots of storage compartments (there are 16 of them lining the front half of the coach), quality hardwoods, plush carpeting, ample lighting, big windows, and nice overall dimensions (see specs included). The room is further aided by a good-sized living room/kitchen slideout, which sprints to a quick and smooth expansion. Monaco has never had a problem with kitchens. It’s nearly always a slam-dunk in terms of storage, space, and appointments, as is the case here. I guess they feel cooking on the go is hard enough without complicating matters. A wide assortment of compartments, drawers, and pantries means a place for everything, everything in its place. Some manufacturers forget that cooking is not a one-size-fits-all undertaking, but Monaco doesn’t. You need large compartments for pots and pans; small drawers for silverware, cutlery, and culinary gadgets (garlic press, anyone?); a sizable compartment to stack plates and glasses. And where will the non-perishable food go? In the wardrobe? As the official camp cook, a haphazard approach to galley design ranks high among my pet peeves. But the Knight’s got it covered, with an impressive assortment of varied compartments for every culinary challenge. Even the long-neglected area underneath the sink, usually rendered virtually useless by scores of serpentine plumbing, is completely functional. I’ve been on this sink high-horse for years, chastising those who mar an otherwise quality storage compartment with less-than-thoughtful fixtures. That’s not the case here, with plenty of room for bulkier and infrequently-used items. Hey, maybe that wok that’s holding firewood back home? Activating the slideout is the only way to access any of the three slender pantries built directly into the wall. This committee approach to food storage works fairly well, with just enough width for canned goods and boxes of pasta – but don’t push it. Assuming you can forgo the Mac n’ Cheese for one night, one needn’t shut off the slideout room at all. The living and cooking area never struggles for space. The unit we tested more than dabbled into the Knight’s list of options. The four-door refrigerator with icemaker, for one, is an absolutely monster, probably bigger than the fridge found in those first couple of apartments you rented straight out of college. The spacious (and potentially space saving) convection/microwave oven is another tempting option, albeit made somewhat less important due to the fact that our model also included a decent-sized oven. Consider it a bonus, I guess. The double sink is very shallow. And what can you say about the culture marble countertop? Sharp looking? Oh, yeah. A weighty extravagance? Probably. But I’ll take it, although its slate color only adds to the interior’s lack of vivid color throughout the coach. There’s a lot of earth tones involved in this particular color scheme – the carpeting, furnishings, even the vinyl ceiling. The pullout couch tries to be a little different, but the patchwork design is slightly manic – but to each his or her own. Fortunately, there are four décor choices offered in the Knight series. Very few complaints in the coach-wide bathroom and shower. The street-side toilet is sequestered in its own room with—what else?—three huge storage compartments that somehow don’t interfere with the room’s peaceful dynamic. The bathroom is large and wide, made more-so by a lack of accouterments and a nice eye-level window. The same good vibrations are found in the shower. Again, size matters here, and latching the shower door won’t make you feel like you’re stuck in a watery tomb. There’s even a perch if you should need to sit. Go ahead, you’ve had a hard day. I particularly liked the natural skylight instead of the smoked-glass effect one usually finds here. (I know, privacy is paramount, but it’s probably optimistic to think that helicopters are flying overhead for a peak.) The sink is deeper than the one found in the galley, and overall, the countertop space is about average. Two hand towel racks dangle on the sidewall. A sizable medicine cabinet nicely averts another standard full-timer complaint of never any place for smaller bathroom items. Again, kudos for maximizing the space underneath the sink, with little imposition from the network of pipes. Before you saunter into the bedroom, take a moment and review the bathroom’s closet. Actually, it’s two closets in one – half wardrobe, half washer/dryer combo (option). One’s level of aversion to the campground’s laundry facilities probably dictates whether you want to sacrifice the full-size wardrobe, something lacking in the master bedroom. You can doll-up the bedroom any way you like. Add lots of little extras and accessories galore. Call it a “master sanctuary,” if that makes you feel better. But don’t skimp on the quality—or size—of the mattress. Nothing makes RVers pine for the comforts of the local Holiday Inn like getting shortchanged in the bedding department. Fortunately, one never has to worry about that with Monaco products. It’s unthinkable, something the company obviously figured out long before I ever got on the scene. The Knight is no exception, with one of the most comfortable beds in the business. From this point, I’m good and happy – and it gets better. But I’m not blind to the other happenings here. The Knight doesn’t have a knockout punch in terms of one large closet and dresser; it relies on approximately a dozen smaller drawers and slender his-and-her wardrobe closets to do the job. Need more? There is a huge area for bulkier items underneath the bed, which is shockingly easy to access – even with one arm tied behind your back. The dual nightstands are enormous, with a surface area large enough for several books, a late dinner, alarm clock, and a glass of vino after a long day. There’s several drawers, too. The nearly coach-wide mirror serves a useful purpose of making the room seem larger, but even without it, there’s little footwork required to get around the bed, open cabinets, or hunt for that misplaced watch (which seems to be a rite of RV passage for me). A bedroom slideout, offered in most of the Knight’s nine floorplans, wasn’t offered in the model we tested, but should be considered gravy. It’s far from essential. A small 13" TV (option) is found here, as well as ceiling speakers that carry the quality sound system into the back bedroom. I liked the Knight a lot, although I don’t think it breaks any significant new ground in the Class A field. Nor is it particularly flashy, particularly in the age of the 45', four slideout motorhome. It’s just a real solid coach, with predictable diesel power at a fairly tame price. One of the reasons for the reasonable price tag is a distinct lack of standards, which can be viewed one of two ways. Either the Knight skimps on extras, or it merely allows customers to pay for only what they want. View it how you like, but I do think a few more onboard bells and whistles is warranted. Aside from the rear monitor system and display, just about every noteworthy gadget found inside our rig was listed as an option, including a VCR and small bedroom TV. A properly loaded coach will up your initial investment somewhat, but it’s still a value. And when you consider how well Monaco executes such “standard” fare as a workable galley, a comfortable bedroom, tremendous storage both inside and out, and few—if any—real noticeable liabilities, you’re well ahead of the game. The new Knight is a trusted entry into a sometimes-volatile motorhome market. Brent Peterson is a veteran RV writer and editor, as well as an
avid camper and traveler. He is a former editor of RV View and the editor-at-large
for Woodall’s regional publications, and a regular contributor
to Coast to Coast, TrailerLife and Highways Magazines. Brent lives outside
of Chicago with his wife and co-pilot, Anne, and Daisy the beagle. |
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