What I’d Change If I Built Out a New Camper Van

Good times in Leavenworth! (Pic: Kristen @bearfoottheory)

It appears this van life trend is sticking around. We’re sucking up wifi bandwidth at your library and stealth camping in your neighborhood…watch out! At most trailheads these days, I count the number of vehicles that aren’t vans. I’m certainly not innocent. In fact, since I think all humans (and some dogs) need a van, let’s talk about how to make them Super Awesome Sauce. I’ve talked about my initial build, but never said “this still works” or “I’d change this.” While I currently don’t plan to buy a new van, reader feedback and many weeks of van travel this year prompted me to make a list of:
  • Things I still love about our van
  • Things I’d reconsider, modify or do differently if I endured…err, engaged in a new buildout project.
My aim is to help your quest to design the ultimate adventure mobile to retain the comforts of home while exploring places like this.
Sunrise on the Alvord Desert.

Sunrise on the Alvord Desert.

Why Should I Listen to You?

Hold on: why the heck does your opinion matter, Dakota? Do you even USE Snapchat? (Got me…) Here’s all I’ve got: due to my writing about vans, I’m constantly awash in questions, comments, and thoughts about van life. Since 2013, my Adventure Mobile post has received hundreds of thousands of visitors and dozens of comments. (I’ve updated that article over 100 times with new info.) I’m also lucky to have met many readers around the country during our travels. “Hey, I know your van…are you Dakota from Trapezing, Tripping, er Thrashing About?” (The name doesn’t matter, right? Next blog I’m using a word people know.) Trailheads, libraries, laundromats, grocery stores: Sprinter vans and their cool occupants are everywhere.
Desert Sprinter van views

Van lifers everywhere except this empty trailhead in Utah. There’s still solitude to be found!

Keep in mind that my goal for the van was a low-stress, relatively low-cost buildout that wouldn’t consume months of my life. I aimed for a practical, simple, cost-effective design doable with basic power tools and a bit of chutzpah (over-confidence). Five years into our relationship with the Sprinter, I still love the van travel experience. First off, things I’d do again! —– By the way, dig these kinds of posts? Sign up for the free 2x/month Traipsing About newsletter for more tales from the mountains and creative challenges like drawing and piano when I’m off the bike or not van tripping.

I’d Do This Again If I Built Out Another Van

Buy the 144” high-roof Sprinter: I’m sticking to my guns on this one. The longer vans I’ve seen often leave more (wasted) interior space and are tougher to maneuver on the bumpy fire roads that I frequent. Throw in easier driving around cities and I vote for going shorter if you’re a couple with the standard van life hobbies of ride, run, ski, climb. (Caveat: if you have kids or travel with gear – e.g. dirt bikes – that need a separate gear garage, then a longer van may make sense.) Bike racks on sliders: No better way to maximize space for vans that are hauling bikes. It also makes managing other gear easier. I vote for 2-3 slide-out drawers/storage to handle the entire gear compartment! Big side windows on both sides: we love having the light and visibility from the CR Lawrence windows. Extra bonus is that the crank-out small windows allow great airflow when the vent fan is turned on.

Lunch break with a view on the Oregon Coast.

Cabinet in sliding door space: I’ve heard the arguments here: space for yoga, you can sit on the stoop… Meh, sorry… The extra storage and counter space, plus the ability to have a sweet drop-down table for post-activity snacking with friends or easy food prep, beats the piss out of your downward dog pose. I vote for folding chairs and a mat outside the van for sitting and stretching. But that’s just me… Large fridge: I’m sticking with a big, side-entry fridge (4.6 cubic feet). Having space for a ton of food is key for travel over a few days; for a weekender rig, maybe not so much. Swivel seats: must-have for the passenger seat, but maybe not for driver. I traded my driver swivel to a friend for a bike rack, in fact, and haven’t missed it at all.

One swivel is fine! Mr. Money Mustache approves. (This shot’s for you, Jules.)

Alternator wired to charge house batteries while driving: a must-have! Solar often isn’t enough to keep things fully charged, and just an hour of driving will top off most battery systems. Update April 2021: things work slightly differently now, so check out my post on upgrading to Ohmmu lithium iron phosphate batteries and a Renogy DC-DC charger. Diesel heater: unless you only travel in the summer at low elevation, this is a key component of any van build. I still stick by what I said in my install post: “With 20/20 hindsight and many sub-freezing nights logged, it is officially one of our favorite things in the van.” Given feedback from others, it seems worth it to get the high-altitude kit, though our heater has worked fine. Door-stop for sliding door: years into having this on our van, we still love it! My brother-in-law Jesse continues to manufacture and ship these and has a ton of satisfied customers. Drop-down side table: as I said in my favorite upgrades post, this is so handy for cooking or food prep, putting out snacks post-ride for friends, and general staging area for all activities.

Breakfast a la side table!

Solar: not mandatory if your batteries charge while driving, but still handy. Given how cheap they are now, putting solar panels on a van is practically a no-brainer these days! WeBoost wifi extender: if you work while you travel, this handy device is destined to be your best buddy. It’s not a magic device that turns No Service into LTE bars, but often allows me to stay parked way out in nature and still get enough of a signal to check email without driving somewhere. We have the WeBoost Drive 4G-X, which ain’t cheap, but it’s worth it for us! Propane hot water shower: I wish I’d done this earlier! For $100 and two hours of plumbing, a hot water shower off the back of the van is an easy upgrade totally worth doing. I bought an Eccotemp L5 heater as an open-box deal, but they’re on Amazon also if none are available.
Propane shower camper van

Hot water rinse after a long, awesome ride in Oakridge (full ATCA, no shuttle!).

Things I’d Do Differently

There’s all the stuff I’d keep. What would I change? With the benefit of many months traveling in the van, both for short and long trips, I’d make these modifications: No rear windows: The way our design evolved, only the top section of our rear windows are usable. (Most designs with bikes or outdoor gear under the bed will end up like this.) If I did it again, I’d skip the rear windows and install a small port window above the bed. More power: related to the next item, instead of ~200 amp-hours of battery power, I’d double it to 400 amp-hours via lithium-ion batteries. Update April 2021: 300 Ah is plenty of power given lithium’s ability to drain to 10%. Full upgrade post here. This provides a week of power with zero driving or solar, which is when a) I’ve eaten all the food and we need to restock or b) it’s time for new horizons (because we’re moving on, not due to police suggestion). No shore (plug-in) power: In four years of ownership, we’ve only used the shore power a handful of times. I wouldn’t bother next time. With 400 amp-hours of power, you definitely won’t need it unless you’re planning to pay for electrical hookups and run A/C in a KOA campground…which is antithetical to van life, so you may need to just buy an RV or risk community shunning!
Campground Hell's Canyon.

No shore power in the free waterfront campgrounds in Hell’s Canyon. Rock climbing just steps away in those hills!

Easily washable floor: Due to time constraints before our trip, we kept the stock floor that came with our van. It’s served us well. Still, I wish we’d had the time to put in a swath of colorful Marmoleum to create a durable, fun, more easily washable floor. Less sound deadening: The stock Sprinters, ProMasters and Transits suffer from vibration and sound transfer. Bare metal walls create an echo chamber worse than my nephew destroying his drum kit. (Ok, maybe that isn’t possible.) I’m glad I used sound-absorbent material below the floor to limit road noise. I’m less sure about the vibration damping for the walls and ceiling – after insulation and interior paneling, half as much is probably fine. Thanks to the heavy damping in our sliding door, it is a shoulder-breaker on slight uphills. If I did it again, I’d put pieces of vibration damping in there, but not coat the entire door.

Going wayyy back on Route 66.

Modular storage tray: We don’t always carry four bikes, which means one tray isn’t used or is under-used, especially for shorter trips of 1-4 weeks. I’m planning to make a modular/removable rack for carrying climbing gear, skis, paddles, or whaaatever. Design for fitting skis: We weren’t skiers in 2013, so the separation wall between the storage and the living area doesn’t allow for long skis. Some simple mods to cabinets would allow this. Wire/plumb initially: Not knowing exactly how we’d use our van, we didn’t plumb or wire before most of the interior was installed. I put in overhead lights halfway down the CA coast, and sink plumbing didn’t happen until 2.5 years of traveling in our van. (Chelsea is tough!) If you have the time and confidence in how you’ll use your van, map out as much of this stuff as possible. Given the in-depth resources, floor plans, and designs now kicking around the ‘nets, this is way easier now.
Sprinter van Mojave Desert

Good to have extra water when you’re in the Mojave!

Backup camera: I can parallel park the van like a boss. However, the visibility is limited and stress levels are lower in crowded parking lots or kids playgrounds if you’ve got a backup camera. I’ve only bumped a stealth motorcycle behind us once (it didn’t tip over). Update fall 2019: I bought a cheap license plate surround backup camera and it’s been great! Insulated blackout curtain: New desire: an insulated curtain that snaps up to seal off the cab from the main living compartment for insulation and easy light blocking. It’s also a good way to look innocent while stealth camping, if we ever did that… Skip the awning: This one came as a surprise. I pictured sunny afternoons lounging under an awning, fizzy water from the Sodastream in one hand and a book in the other. It rarely worked out that way. Usually, there was a tree for shade, or gusting wind turned the awning into a large kite, or we weren’t in one place long enough to set it up. Plus it’s worse for gas mileage. Geez, I might go put it on Craigslist now!

No awning needed during a lunch break in Washington Pass.

Maybe I’d Add These

Here are a few items I’d consider if I was feeling flush with skrilla and planned on living in a van long term: Flares: One downside to the Sprinter vs. other vans (ProMasters, Transits) is that they taper toward the roof. This results in a width that isn’t sufficient to sleep crosswise. Flares, while still expensive ($2k/each installed), free up space in the van and (maybe) are worth it. Buy a 4×4: everyone wants a 4×4 these days. While I think this is at least 30-80% because they look bold and badass, there is certainly utility in owning a 4×4 if you spend a lot of time skiing. However, I know tons of folks that ski all over in 2WD rigs with no issues. All in all, I think vans are not meant for rallying and that 4x4s just get you stuck further out.

The rough roads on the way to the start of the Oregon Timber Trail were no problemo in my 2WD mobster van!

Cabinet over our sink: We have tons of storage space in the cabin, but an overhead cabinet would spread things out. The con is that it feels tighter/borderline claustrophobic and Chelsea is a big thumbs down on upper cabinets. Van lifers often comment how open our van feels. Trade-offs! For the shorter trips we’re doing now, upper cabinets don’t feel necessary. For four-season, full-time travel, probably worth it. Hydronic hot water: I’d give this some serious consideration next time around. From what I’ve heard, the aftermarket hydronic systems are excellent. Still, it’s an expensive, fairly complicated system, and our hot water boiler and propane on-demand shower work great. Maybe someday… Diesel or induction cooktop: The magic of flipping on a burner without having to setup the stove is not overrated. (Weird, it’s like amenities from home are nice to have in a van!) However, it’s great to have the flexibility to cook inside, on the slider door dropdown table, or on a picnic table.

What it’s all about! (Well, other than the outdoor adventures, exploring awesome places, meeting new people…)

No Matter What You Do, Vans Are Awesome

All that said, if there’s anything I’ve learned in five years involved in the world of van life, it’s this: a basic setup is all you need. Put a bed (or sleeping pad!, plastic lantern, cooler and outdoor gear in ANY vehicle and you’re equipped to experience all the stuff folks in $100k van builds do. Case in point: Today an employee at a local bike shop told me she spent $72 on zipties and crates for her van build. Then she went dreamy-eyed and talked about a recent, amazing five-month trip. This past weekend at a van meetup, a dude named Andrew showed me his basic setup that allows him to roam the United States working as an artist. Don’t feel like an expensive build is the only way to go; there are many ways to explore the world. Power in simplicity! All you van owners out there – what would you add to this list? Every van and its use are different, so it’s always fun to hear what folks think. Drop a line in the comments!

Van life meetup last week in Bend with a big crew. Always fun hanging with blog readers!

Any old vehicle works as an adventure rig… Suspension is a bit rough on this beast, but it gets the job done.

Downshifting from Van Life

I’ve aimed to write this post for over eight months. (All photos in this post are from that time frame too!) It’s for anyone dreaming of traveling long-term, and also for those living that dream wondering, “Will we do this forever?” *** As long-time readers know, Chelsea and I launched our van trip in fall 2013 for a four-month jaunt down the coast of California. “FOUR MONTHS IS SO LONG!” our friends opined. “Don’t forget Oliver,” said Chelsea’s parents as we dropped our fuzzy companion off for cat-sitting. Little did we (and my unsuspecting in-laws) know we’d live the van life for three years, not four months.

Backpacking with Chelsea’s parents in the Jefferson Wilderness last July.

The Magic of Full-Time Travel

The excitement of travel pulled like a large planet’s gravity. We easily fell into an orbit that took us to 18 countries by van, bike, and plane. I freed up time and mental space by hiring more people for my business, extracting myself from day-to-day client work. It was a scary leap with a real chance of disintegrating into a broken heap. (At least we had the van!) Things worked out.

Patrick rappelling off a route at Smith Rock.

So we traveled. It was relaxing, simple in many ways (open calendar, every day!), creatively inspiring, a sabbatical from many of the responsibilities of “adult” existence. I dove into photography and writing and built this blog. My random musings somehow attracted a million visitors and allowed us to meet many adventurous people who eschew the (typical) American Dream. Many readers are in our shoes, professionals tired of living someone else’s narrative of “success.” They’re flipping the bird at the 9-to-5 and proverbial picket fence and heading out to find open space where the wind sings through trees or roars over the desert landscape.

I met Rich and Esther at a trailhead in 2016. “Hey, I know your van!” Here’s Rich a year later zipping down Xanadu, a sweeeet trail with sweeter views near Leavenworth, WA.

We chewed up mountain bike trails, then 7,000 miles of roads while cycle touring the U.S. and Europe. New York and Santa Cruz each distracted us for a month, as did studying Spanish in Mexico, roadtripping Iceland, and volunteering at a farm sanctuary. Our travels also strongly focused on people. We spent quality time with our families and developed friendships all over the globe. I regularly stay in touch with buddies from our travels and see them around the states. By the way, dig these kinds of posts? Sign up for the free Traipsing About newsletter!

Making a snowman with my nephew, Sam. He then crushed me at a snowball fight.

 On the Road…Forever?

At one point, Chelsea asked me, “I wonder if we’ll always be nomads?” At the time, the answer felt like a resounding yes. And yet, like any frequent activity, the shiny luster faded from full-time travel. What started as a sort of sabbatical turned into a repetitive daily orbit of logistics. Traveling went from stimulating immersion in new places to shallow dips into too many places, voyeurism without involvement. Even a few multi-week stays and volunteering felt too short.

Paul dives into Waldo Lake on a chilly October day. Yes, that water is as cold as it looks.

We missed community and tired of constantly saying goodbye. We met adventurous and stoked people, but interactions were short-lived. Was it possible to create a traveling caravan of friends who rolled around together, we wondered…? Instead, we dug deep in a short time period with people, talking life, traveling, unconventional choices. Then travel inertia – gotta keep moving! – or common courtesy to not overstay our welcome would grab hold. We’d exchange hugs, talk about plans to meet in the future, and point our wheels toward the distant horizon.

Enjoying the views off NW chair with my buddy Robert on Mt. Bachelor. That’s Sparks Lake and South Sister in the distance.

The Travel Pull

When I questioned why I wanted to keep traveling, I unearthed four primary reasons: 1) Daily access to the outdoors 2) Momentum (we’re moving and therefore must keep moving) 3) Positive reinforcement feeding my ego (people saying “wow, I’ve always wanted to do that!” or “you’re living the dream!”) 4) That we COULD travel full-time, so we should (right?). Not if it no longer fed what we sought to do or how we wanted to grow. Of those four aspects, only daily outdoor access made sense anymore. Chelsea felt this earlier than I did and was ready to land in one place.

There’s a metaphor here about hanging onto something…

I’ve seen this shift in dozens of travelers. Friends with big social media followings or a popular blog often hit a point where another new place didn’t ring their bell anymore. Posting online starts to feel forced, a job rather than a joy. Their social media profiles blinked out, blog posts shifted to every few weeks, then quarterly, then gone. I was no exception.

A magic, strenuous day on Angel’s Staircase in the N. Cascades.

Figuring out where to park the van was the hard part. When we’d return to Portland for visits, I felt trapped by the big city. The combination of gray days and no quick access to nature dragged on me. I was depressed and irritable, frustrated with concrete and traffic. During our travels, we eyed mountain towns in the west as potential places to pop out landing gear and stick around for awhile. Santa Cruz, Boulder, San Luis Obispo, Bozeman. There was always a reason a place didn’t feel right. Enter Bend, Oregon, the seat of Lifestyle Awesomeness. We’d visited the surrounding area a fair amount, but never dug into the city. After traveling Iceland and Canada in 2016, we rolled the van into Bend to rent a friend’s place and see how things shook out.

Sunset at Old Mill on the Deschutes River in Bend.

How It Feels to Be In One Place

Over a year later, our new homebase is Bend! We sold our Portland home and bought a house in Bend in a quirky, connected neighborhood. People don’t randomly wind up in Bend. Most work hard and create the opportunity to live here. We’ve discovered new friends are available and prioritize investing in friendship and family, time outside, health, travel and giving back to the community. We’re loving the strong community of active, positive, engaged friends and the easily accessible outdoor magic.

Cookbook club! Get a bunch of friends together and cook amazing food from one vegan cookbook per month. It’s that easy!

Thanks to prioritizing access to and preservation of public lands, Bend is an outdoor playground with miles of singletrack for mountain biking and running, skiing on Mt. Bachelor and world-class rock climbing at Smith Rock. If there’s a downside to the town, it’s minor growing pains as it goes from small to medium size. Sometimes there’s a 3 min wait at a roundabout! (NOOOO.) What makes Bend resonate for us isn’t solely the outdoor wonderland. For a mountain town, there’s a lot going on. Music, coffee shops, kombucha makers and breweries galore (not that I drink beer!), unlimited festivals in the summer, all the running and biking events you’d ever want, and a growing business hub are just a sampler. The open space we created for traveling shifted easily to other arenas. A natural organizer, Chelsea spearheaded things. She joined the board of a local vegan nonprofit, started a plant-powered running group and cookbook club, and filled our calendars with marches, fundraisers, and political events. In a year, we’re more involved in Bend than we ever were in Portland.

Plant-Powered Runners! This crew is awesome.

Rallying friends at our house for the Jan 2018 Women’s March in Bend.

On top of that, I’m finding myself more active in Bend. This is thanks to the strong outdoors scene and access to everything I love to do so close to our door. I spent 2017 in a mix of physical activity (perhaps too much!), joining events with Chelsea, and investing energy into my business. This year, I’m aiming for less work and more creative time and travel, plus weekly Plant-Powered Runners outings, big dinner parties, and community events. I’m surprised how easily time traveling is filled with other satisfying pursuits.

How can you not get outside with this 30 minutes away?

So What’s the Plan, Yo?

This city is a stellar fit for us and we’ve decided Bend is our home for the foreseeable future. We’re rooting, but we will still step off into sweet adventures. “Are you selling the van!?” people have asked. No. Freaking. Way. Too many climbing areas the van needs to visit! I also need it to scope out the trails around Crested Butte, c’mon! A trip to Wyoming and Idaho is already slated for May.

My shredder friend Jeremy launching off Trail #3 at Cline Butte with the Cascades in the background.

We’re kicking around an idea for another bike tour; the idea of long climbing trips to Greece, Spain, or Mexico makes me salivate. These travel boots aren’t even close to done walking! This is a shift to a lifestyle we talked about for the past few years. We’ll dig deep into community and still water the seeds of travel when we feel the itch. By spending months in Bend mixed with trips near and far, we’ll polish both sides of the travel and home coin.

A snowy Crater Lake during a week-long mountain biking van trip to Southern Oregon.

Van Life as a Mindset

The social media tag #vanlife represents freedom from a staid, boring existence. There’s a reason Millennials are flocking to it. We’re repeating the paths of anti-establishment parents back in the 1960s. This time around, though, people can work remotely, freelancing from Yosemite, writing software code from Moab, or editing science papers in a ski resort parking lot. Even if Chelsea and I aren’t traveling in a van full-time, #vanlife carries into the way we live. For me, it’s a mentality as much as a way of life, encompassing adventure, minimalism, and an open-minded, flexible approach to travel. It’s an examined, intentional approach.

About to examine the downhill on Fuji Mountain near Waldo Lake!

This is a new phase, and not the last. I expect continuing shifts filled with moments for play and exploring, time for growth and building, space to give back, and occasionally the chance to do it all. There’s no playbook for this version of the American Dream, just an evolving patchwork quilt called life. A stitch here and there adding new experiences, a rearranging of the patterns as needed. It’s about the adventure of living a balanced, exciting life of play, community and contribution. Full-time travel no longer lit us up, so it was time for a shift. We all need to weave together pleasure, purpose, and pride. Done correctly, it creates a strong rope to hoist away toward a happy, satisfied life. That’s our aim in this next stage. The ever-evolving book of our lives continues. The Bend chapter continues with rip-roaring satisfaction and fun. Instead of “going places to be moved,” as Pico Iyer describes travel, we’ve landed and sunk both feet in deep, toes gripping, arms wide. It feels great.

We’re still having fun!

*** Have you traveled long-term and felt the pull to land somewhere? I’d love to hear how you handled the shift from full-time travel to a rooted existence.

Living the Van Life Adventure at Home

Mountain biking Syncline WA Scott Rokis photography

Enjoying a perfect day in the Columbia Gorge at Syncline Trail. (Photo:

**This post first appeared here on MindBodyGreen**

It started as a four-month trip to get out of the rainy Portland winter. Just a camper van jaunt down the coast from Portland to San Diego, Chelsea and I declared. We had no idea we’d end up traveling for 2.5 years.

During this adventure-filled time, we mountain biked all over the western U.S., parked the van and bicycle toured unsupported 7,000 miles through 14 countries, lived in New York City for a month, volunteered for a month at a farm animal sanctuary and studied Spanish in Mexico. Yet all those things followed a simple decision to leave on a journey and break out of the usual.

Beyond that, 30 months away created the mental space for other major life adjustments. We morphed my business to allow unlimited travel as digital nomads, shifted to a plant-based diet, met countless amazing people, and completely changed our perspective on life.

Hard to avoid being a dork and doing tree pose in a tree FARM!

When you find a tree farm, you have to find a matching yoga pose.

We’re not the only ones jumping into van travel. If Instagram hashtags are any indicator of the temperature of #vanlife is right now, it’s a flaming rocket. Whether it’s a return to the 60s Vanagon culture or a completely new way to live, people young and old are jumping into the freedom and openness of traveling in a van.

Tens of thousands of people are nomadic in a van or RV in the U.S. It’s not all retirees in giant motor homes either. Some travel on the cheap and live on savings; others take their work mobile like I did, or find jobs along the way to fund their travel. Vans are the ultimate freedom mobiles.

Getting ready to ride a favorite trail (JEM) outside Zion National Park.

Getting ready to ride a favorite trail (JEM) outside Zion National Park.

There’s just one problem: many people can’t or don’t want to live in a van full-time. (“I’d choke my husband in such a small space,” we’ve heard a few times.) Constraints like family and work also preclude traveling long-term. Is there a way to embrace the van life mentality and bring the adventure into an otherwise “normal” existence at home?

It’s all about the mindset. While I think many people can (and do) thrive on a long van trip, we can also rack up brilliant experiences while rooted in one place. It just takes looking at things through a different lens. Van Life Goggles, if you will.

Embracing the Van Life Mentality

Downsize your space and stuff to minimize daily maintenance. Camper vans are small, and so is the time to keep one tidy. Take that mindset into your home! Check out The Minimalists blog for tips. Smart design of small spaces (the tiny home movement) is packed full of inspiration – Pinterest is a great resource.

Say yes to invitations to new experiences. Most days exploring in a camper van featured somewhere, something, or someone new. If someone invites you somewhere, go! Design life on your home turf around daily exploring, whether it’s a new class, day hike, or event you’d usually never attend. It’s easy to get stuck in the grind of the same commute, same restaurants, and routine – break it up.

New experiences make me happy!

New experiences make me happy. (Photo:

Say no to the busy trap. Immerse yourself in things you enjoy as much as possible and deliberately cut out the rest. The freedom of not being heavily scheduled opened my eyes to leaving open space for free time. In return, my creativity blossomed as I started writing, playing music, and studying photography.

Get outside every day. Our van delivered us to nature’s gateway on a daily basis, something that’s possible at home as well. Even if it’s just a short walk through a city park, seek nature every day. Your body will thrive and your energy levels will soar.

Connect with other travelers on social media. During bike tours, we stayed with dozens of strangers through Warmshowers (a cycle touring site). Our blog and Instagram have generated many invites from complete strangers to meet for a bike ride or a meal, not to mention offers of guest bedrooms. Bring the energy home by reaching out to other travelers or offering space.

New friends from our blog and Instagram!

New friends in the past month from our blog and Instagram.

Design your downsized, streamlined life for frequent short trips. Once your systems are in place, it’s easy to be packed and heading for the hills in an hour. It’s like putting your running shoes by your bedroom door: if you remove the little blockades, you’ll find it easier to make it happen. Keep camping gear organized in containers and ready to go so you can seek an adventure in no time.

Never stop dreaming! Three years ago, the idea of building out a DIY camper van, renting out our house and hitting the road for four months was intimidating. Now that we downsized to less stuff and our systems are efficient, it’s easy to consider new trips and ponder fresh adventures.

Even at home, looking at life through Van Life Goggles keeps me open to serendipity and flexible. I’m still seeking fun people and activities – in a month back in Portland, I’ve already done four trips to new locations close to home and met up with multiple travelers coming through town. It keeps things fresh while we scheme the next big adventure…which isn’t far off.

Thinking of the future...

Road Trippin’ With My Pa (Video)

To share the latest happenings, in the future I’ll occasionally start blog posts with italic notes like this. This week’s announcement is an interview we did with Bicycling Magazine. Check it out!

Father Son Road Trip

For years, my dad and I talked about doing a road trip. We made it happen this October, carving out 10 days to drive the Sprinter van through the mountains and plains of Idaho, Montana, and Wyoming.

The journey was a mix of goofing around (as you’ll see), long talks about art, and exploring beautiful places by bike and on foot. The video is one of my favorites so far. Enjoy!

Exploring the east side of Glacier National Park.

Exploring the east side of Glacier National Park.

Lake McDonald on the west side of Glacier National Park.

Hiking on the Continental Divide on the east side of Glacier National Park.

Hiking on the Continental Divide on the east side of Glacier National Park.

Our route, clockwise starting and finishing in Moscow, Idaho.

Our route, clockwise starting and finishing in Moscow, Idaho. A solid 1,800 miles through some stunning landscapes.