What’s Next

In October 2016, my several-year-goal of moving into a van became reality. Prior to that, I’d been dedicating my time to a job that wasn’t fulfilling and daydreaming of life on the open road. It was easy to imagine getting trapped in that life – to find myself climbing the corporate ladder, only to wake up one day and realize a decade of my best years had somehow slipped away. While I still wasn’t quite sure what I wanted out of life, I knew it wasn’t that. So I did the only logical thing and packed my life into 60 square feet of Sprinter Van to explore the country.

And what a beautiful country it is.

The last few years of living in Little E have been some of the best of my life. I’ve had truly amazing experiences, met unbelievably friendly and interesting people, and appreciated life at a slower pace.

I’ve sat in the desert for days, watching the sun make its slow march across the sky. I’ve camped on the beaches of Mexico’s rugged and beautiful Baja peninsula. I’ve crisscrossed the country more times than I’d like to admit, enjoying the comfort of being at home regardless of where I happen to park. I’ve spent countless nights crowded around fires with other nomads, connecting on a level much deeper than is often found in everyday life.

But I’ve also felt cooped up in the reality of a home packed into such a small space. Sure, I have the entire outdoors to live in, but from a practical standpoint I end up spending a lot of time in the van. Working, cooking, sleeping… those things take up the bulk of the day. Besides, it’s often not nice enough to spend extended time outside; it gets cold!

Cozy. Sometimes too cozy.

People often ask what life on the road is like, and I always say there are positives and negatives. The nomadic lifestyle can be phenomenal, but it’s definitely not for everyone. The challenges of seemingly simple things – water, power, heat, worrying about where to sleep – all add up. It can wear on you after a while.

Well, over the three and a half years I’ve called Little E home, the negatives have become more noticeable, more front and center; the positives worn and tattered, no longer shiny and new. A bed that’s a little too small, not having quite enough space to entertain, worrying about having enough power to run the heater, the clutter of too many possessions being constantly shuffled around the van. Little pet peeves you endure every day, until finally you’ve had enough.

My plan was to live in the van for a year. That seemed like ample time to get settled into a new lifestyle, see the country, and figure out whether I wanted to do it much longer. Well, that year blew by. As did the next, and the one after that, until I realize I’ve somehow lived in this van coming up on four years.

I always knew I wouldn’t call Little E home forever. That sooner or later, it would be time to move on. Well, that time has finally come. That’s right, I will soon be saying goodbye to my beloved home on wheels and moving on to the next chapter in life.

Which is obviously to buy a school bus and turn it into my next rolling home.

Ok, I know what you’re thinking – isn’t a bus just an oversized van that gets worse gas mileage and can’t go as many places? Well, yes. But also so much more… at least I hope.

Carroll County School Bus Number 18, specifically. Look at that beauty (metiphorically speaking, obviously).

One of my chief complaints about Vanlife has been the lack of space. It’s not so much that I don’t have everything I really need (I mean, I have a shower and carry two bikes and a full size guitar; I definitely have more than I need), it’s more that the van just isn’t really a comfortable space to live in. While it’s great as a means to travel, when you spend a full day sitting in the same seat to drink coffee, listen to the news, work, eat, and stare at your phone too much, it starts to feel small pretty quickly.

The bus will very much be focused on creating a more comfortable living space, with the tradeoff of not being able to go quite as many places.

A new game I’ve been playing is “can I get a bus here”. This one is a hard no.

It will mean space to spread out and stay a while. To have dedicated areas for different aspects of life – a desk to work, a couch to lounge, a bathroom that isn’t also the kitchen and living room. To have enough room to carry a few indulgent toys (can you say dirtbike). To fit enough solar power to never worry about running out of juice or plugging in your friends when they’re low. To actually stretch and do yoga inside. A space to enjoy the finer things in life again, like an oven.

It may seem like the differences won’t be substantial, and I do ask myself if the benefits will be enough to justify the time and cost of this project. I mean, building the van was a ton of work, and the bus is going to be significantly more complicated (ooh, the plans I have). Will it really be worth it to just end up with a vehicle that can’t go all the places I can now?

There’s also a part of me that feels it’s a failure to want more space. Isn’t being happy with less a significant aspect of living in a van? In a world that seems ever moving toward more and more consumption, Vanlife and similar movements have served as a refreshing reminder that we can be happy with less. That it isn’t really the ‘things’ that make us happy in the end. What does it say that I’ve tried this minimal lifestyle and found I need more? I don’t have a good answer.

This wonderful spot in Baja on the other hand, definitely bus-able.

What I do know is that I’ve been feeling my time in the van coming to an end for a while. Over the past year I’ve thought a lot about what’s next. Thing is, I really do love this lifestyle. I love the freedom to be at home anywhere, the simplicity of having everything I really need with me, the connections and experiences found out on the road. I’m just ready for it to feel a little more comfortable.

The timing of this transition has been interesting as well. I’ve gone back and forth on whether doing a build in the middle of a global pandemic is a great idea, or something irresponsible that’s just going to cause more unnecessary interactions. I like to think that I’m able to plan well enough to minimize shopping trips (and let’s be honest, I order a ton of stuff online anyway), but I know there will ultimately be interactions and risks that are higher than they would otherwise be.

But I’ve been ready for something different, and since literally everything else is cancelled, it seems as good a time as any to take a break from traveling and jump into a project. Yes, I’m aware that I’m probably using the bus in part to distract myself from all the shit that’s going on in the world. What can I say, at least my coping mechanism is productive.

Do not pass go.

There’s no doubt my new 37 foot long home will necessitate some lifestyle changes. I’ll have to be much more careful about knowing the areas I’m heading into. With the bus, there will be no more haphazardly pointing my wheels down an unknown dirt road and just going for it. That’s what the motorcycle is for! I envision being much more stationary; setting up shop in a good spot and taking full advantage of the 14 day camping limits.

It will be a slower lifestyle. One that feels more like having a home which just happens to change locations every so often. And if I feel the need to make my home base a city for a while, I’ll be able to find a spot to park and have a stationary living space that really feels like a small apartment.

I fully expect the limitations to take some getting used to though. The compact size and off-road capability of the Sprinter has me accustomed to going just about anywhere. From rough mountain roads to dense cities, I rarely think twice about my rolling home handicapping my ability to explore. Learning and adapting to the limitations of a long, wide, and tall vehicle built for ferrying school children around will be a process requiring some patience.

Will it bus? Jury is still out on this one.

But I suspect the tradeoffs will be worth it. After all, the bus has 238 square feet of living space. That’s 4X what Little E has! Think how many possibilities can fit in there. How many adventures those massive (and expensive) tires will carry my life to. How much solar will fit on the roof. How many friends can pack inside those walls.

Yes, it will be a ton of work to build the bus. Yes, the limitations will take some getting used to. But it’s still safe to say I’m excited for the change.

Someday, this boring yellow box will be my home!