Skip to main content

← All posts

Release Notes

What You Cannot See: One Alarm Engine, Three Screens

· 10 min read

You hit a frost heave on a forest road and a cabinet door pops open behind you in the trailer. Or the rig is in winter storage at home and somebody walking the lot at two in the morning finds the storage door you forgot to latch and starts helping themselves. Or you are asleep at a campsite and a raccoon noses open the rear storage hatch you forgot to latch and starts helping itself. You will not know about any of these until something is on the floor, missing, or eaten. That is how this has worked in RVs for about fifty years. We have been chipping away at it for a while. As of today the watching is finally in all three of the places you might be when it happens: in the driver's seat, on the wall of the rig, and on the web dashboard on your phone.

One alarm engine, three places to hear it

Three TrailCurrent screens share the same alarm system. Spotter rides in the driver's seat. Fireside or Milepost hangs on the wall inside the RV, depending on which wall display you went with. The web dashboard lives on your phone, served by the gateway in the rig. Each one watches the same sensors and the same device states. Each one has its own arm switches, its own labels, and its own volume. None of them know about each other. They are each making their own call about whether to interrupt you. Today's release wires both Spotter and Fireside into that alarm side, joining a phone dashboard that has been quietly doing this for a while.

That sounds like a small detail. It is actually the most important thing on this page. Driving, camping, and storing your rig are three completely different situations, and TrailCurrent treats them that way. The platform knows the difference. The same sensor signal carries a completely different meaning in each one, and the system applies that understanding so what counts as "alarm worthy" depends on which mode you are in.

A cabinet inside the rig cracking open while you are driving is something you need to know about right now. The same cabinet cracking open in the middle of the night while you are asleep at a campsite is not. Waking you up over a pantry door is worse than the pantry door. The same cabinet cracking open while the rig is in winter storage is barely interesting at all, because the rig is empty and the door is interior.

Now take a different sensor entirely. The exterior storage door you forgot to latch on the way out. That one matters in both camping and storage, just for completely different reasons. At a campsite, an open exterior compartment at 2 a.m. is a raccoon problem, and the wall display chimes loud enough to get you on your feet before they find the snacks. With the rig sitting in storage at home, that same open door at 2 a.m. is an opportunist problem. Somebody walking the storage lot, trying handles, looking for quick things to lift out of an unlocked compartment. The phone notification lands at the loudest setting you allow. Two completely different threats. One sensor signal. The system handles both because TrailCurrent already understands what camping and storing are. You just set how that one door should behave in each mode.

One sensor signal. A completely different meaning every time. The shared alarm engine across three screens already knows the difference between driving, camping, and storing. You set the per-sensor preferences once, and then forget about them. The system stops bothering you when it should not, and stops missing things when it should not. That is the reason this is worth caring about.

Why not just use your phone?

Fair question. Your phone is already in the cupholder. Why a dedicated cab screen at all?

Because while you are driving, your phone is busy. It is running navigation. It is playing the road trip playlist. It is taking a call to the campground about your arrival time. A full-screen alarm popping over Google Maps at 65 mph is the wrong tradeoff, and a notification you might miss is the worse one. Spotter takes the alerts in the cab so the phone keeps doing the things the phone is for.

And Spotter is watching all the things you cannot see in the mirror or with a quick glance over your shoulder. The cabinets behind you. The basement compartments. The stabilizer jacks below the rig. The ramp door at the very back. The fridge somewhere behind a wall. The things that, without a system like this one, you would only find out about by hearing them fail or by paying for them after the fact.

Inside the rig is a different conversation. The wall display, whether you went with Fireside or Milepost, is there for the moments when an alert needs to be visible to everyone in the rig and not buried in a notification list on someone's phone. Most of the time, reaching for the phone is just as good, and that is fine. They are not competing. They are different tools for slightly different moments. Today's release adds the alarms to Fireside. Milepost gets the same alarms in an upcoming release. The hard part was building the alarm engine itself. Wiring it into another screen is much smaller work.

And if you do not want a dedicated cab screen at all, that is a supported answer too. The same Driving, Camping, and Storing modes are coming to the phone dashboard itself in the next stretch of work. If you would rather just flip your own phone between navigation, music, and TrailCurrent, the modes will be right there. Same per-sensor decisions. Same alarm engine. Same alerts. Just running on the phone you already own.

This is the design choice running through all of TrailCurrent. Same features, same unified experience, whether the screen on your wall is a Fireside, a Milepost, or a tablet propped in a mount. Whether the screen up front is a Spotter or the phone in your cupholder. Dedicated hardware if you want it. The phone and tablet you already own if you do not. Same system, same data, your call.

Same sensor, different problem, different response

Driving down the highway. A cabinet behind you, the one you cannot see from the driver's seat, shakes open on a rough stretch. Spotter fills the cab screen with a full-screen alert and chimes hard. You pull off before the contents redecorate the floor or, in a motorhome, before they slide forward into the cockpit. Fireside back in the living space also knows, but nobody is back there to hear it. The phone in the cupholder also knows, but Spotter is the right tool for the moment.

A week later you are at a campsite. The same pantry door swings open inside the rig because the latch did not fully engage when you closed it on the way out to the picnic table. Spotter is asleep up front. Fireside is on, but you set the pantry to stay quiet there during camping. The phone lights a small badge on the bell. You glance, you see "Pantry," and you close it whenever it is convenient. Same sensor as the highway alert. A completely different response, because the stakes are different.

Same campsite, different door. The rear storage hatch you forgot to latch on the back of the rig is hanging just loose enough for a curious nose to get under it. At 2 a.m. a raccoon noses the edge, gets a paw under, and the door swings up. A phone badge alone is not enough this time. Fireside chimes audibly inside the trailer, points at "Rear Storage," and you get out there and shoo the animal off before it finds the snacks.

Months later, the rig is in winter storage at home. Same rear storage hatch, same forgotten latch. This time it is not a raccoon discovering it. It is somebody walking the storage lot in the middle of the night, trying handles, finding the one that gives because the latch was never engaged. Your phone gets the push at the loudest setting you allow. Same physical door, same physical sensor, but the threat at the other end of it is now a two-legged one. The sensor never changed. Your context did.

Four moments, one sensor each, four different alarms. You decide, per sensor, on each screen, what "appropriate" looks like.

Alarms run the other way too

So far the trigger has been "open." The same engine watches the opposite direction, and that matters more than it sounds.

You are loading up the rig on a Friday and flipping off the interior lights on your way out the door. Somewhere in that sequence you bump the wrong switch and turn off the fridge instead of the bunk light next to it. You do not notice. You drive away. Sunday morning you roll into camp to warm chicken, soft butter, and the smell of room-temperature milk. Nothing about the trip told you it happened.

That is an alarm. Not because something turned on that should not have. Because something turned off that was supposed to stay on. TrailCurrent already knows which switch feeds the fridge, because that relay lives on the platform. The moment that switch flips off and the fridge is armed to stay running, the alert is queued. You climb in to leave, Spotter wakes up, and it tells you the fridge is off before you ever pull out of the driveway. You flip it back on. The food survives the trip.

The same idea catches the boring stuff. Lights still on when you walked away from the campsite. The water pump you forgot to switch off. The vent fan still running because somebody bumped it earlier. The water heater you flipped off when you meant to hit the bunk light next door. Each one is the same shape of problem. A switch is in a state you did not expect, and the longer it stays there the worse it gets.

The alarm engine does not care whether you are watching a sensor or a switch. A magnetic sensor on a cabinet door and a relay feeding the fridge look the same to it. You tell it what state is normal for each one. It tells you when that changes.

A pre-trip check that runs itself

There is one more shape of alarm worth describing, and it shows up at the most useful possible moment. Right before you put the rig in gear.

You wrap up a long weekend at the campsite. You stowed the awning. You think you stowed the awning. You also raised the stabilizer jacks, closed every drawer, and turned off the outside lights. You think. After three nights of unwinding around a campfire, the checklist in your head is hazy.

You climb up front to pull out, and Spotter wakes up. Before it shows you the dashboard, it shows you what is still out of position. Stabilizer Jack Three is down. The front driver's drawer is open. The awning is still extended. Three rows on the screen, each one a thing you have to deal with right now, before you put the rig in drive.

Or you own a toy hauler. You spent Sunday morning sweeping out the garage and forgot to raise the ramp door. There is no friendly tap on the shoulder for that one. By the time you hear the scrape of steel on pavement, the damage is already done. Spotter sees the ramp sensor is still down and tells you in the cab before you ever put it in gear.

Most of the time that screen will be empty when you climb in and you just drive away. The first time it catches a stabilizer jack you would have driven away on and ripped out from under the rig, the system pays for itself again. The first time it catches a ramp door before the pavement does, it pays for itself twice over.

This works because Spotter is the only screen that knows you are about to move. Fireside is sitting on a wall and has no idea whether you are pulling out or making coffee. The phone could be charging on the counter. The moment you settle into the driver's seat and Spotter lights up, the system has a strong signal that you are preparing to leave. That is exactly the moment for a "ready to leave" check.

Your rig, not the average one

Different rigs have different normal. You might drive with the roof vent cracked open because you like the airflow through the cabin. That should not be an alarm. The roof vent open during driving mode is fine, and you tell the system so. Your neighbor with a different floorplan might want the roof vent triggering an alarm if it ever opens above 5 mph. Same sensor. Same platform. Different decision, because different rig and different driver.

The platform does not pretend to know your rig. You know your rig. It gives you the controls to tell it which sensors are connected to what, what their normal states look like, and what should and should not interrupt you. The list of what matters is the one you build.

That list is also still growing. A few more inputs are being wired into the same alarm engine right now. Tire pressure across every wheel in your setup. Blind spot monitoring up front. Integration with the standard 7-pin trailer lighting harness so a turn signal that has died or a brake light that is out gets you the same kind of alert as anything else. None of those ship today. All of them use the same alarm engine, the same per-screen treatment, the same context-aware decisions. The pattern is set. New sensors plug into it.

What you will actually notice

Spend ten minutes naming the things that matter to you. The pantry. The propane locker. The bathroom hatch. The bunk window. The basement storage bays. The rear storage hatch. The stabilizer jacks. The awning. The garage ramp door if you have a toy hauler. The fridge being on. The water pump being quiet at 3 a.m. The lights being off when nobody is home. Pick the ones that, if they slipped into the wrong state at the wrong moment, you would want to know about before it became a problem.

Then spend another ten minutes deciding which of those get to be loud and on which screen. Loud on Spotter for the cabinets that throw things at the road and the fridge that holds the weekend's food. Visible on Spotter the moment you climb in, for the jacks and the awning that need to be stowed before you move. Loud on Fireside for the outside hatches that invite wildlife in. Quiet on the phone for the everyday in-and-out doors. You only have to do it once.

Then go somewhere. The first time the road shakes a cabinet open and the cab screen tells you about it, the system pays for itself in one trip. The first time Spotter tells you the fridge is off when you climb in to leave, because you bumped a switch on the way out, it pays for itself again. The first time you climb in and Spotter quietly tells you that stabilizer three is still down, it pays for itself a third time.