The dream of living full-time in a metal can on wheels started as early as 2015. Minimalism and the tiny home movements were becoming popular. The simplicity of both appealed to me.
But then, van life appeared.
I was in love immediately. Again, the simplicity was attractive. Being surrounded by nature all of the time drew me closer. The endless hours of exploring and adventuring captivated me. The perceived affordability and financial freedom peaked my interest. The absolute freedom spoke to my soul.
Having just put all of my possessions into storage and eager to put my nomadic desires to the test, I bought a used 2018 Airstream Basecamp. (I know it’s not a van but it was the quickest and easiest way to give the gypsy lifestyle a try.) It was the fall of 2020. COVID was in the air, literally. Working remotely was finally at my fingertips, pun intended. I was finally free to roam.
But first, I had to learn how to tow a travel trailer.
Before we picked up the Basecamp, my dad taught me the basics with his van and trailer. Then, we installed a brake controller and a hitch on my Honda Pilot. I still didn’t feel confident with my abilities when we picked up the trailer and drove it home. But we made it safely, and that’s all that mattered.
I had never owned a recreational vehicle before. All of the systems were new to me. Towing was new to me. Traveling solo wasn’t new to me – I’d been doing that for three years by the time I bought the Airstream. Thankfully, my parents have owned three RVs so they quickly brought me up-to-speed on the systems.
I went on a handful of short trips within a six-hour radius before putting my towing skills and nerves of steel to the test. I spent March–May of 2021 on the road with my cat Carmey. It was one of the greatest adventures of my life. I learned a ton — I absolutely hated towing.
The set up. The tear down. The hitching and unhitching. The dumping of the gray/black tank. The constant feeling of swaying like you’re on a boat. The fear that the main door would fly open any minute while driving down the highway (it happened twice before an RV technician “fixed it.”) The water leak in the front windshield. The realization nothing was secured when you opened the door after parking it somewhere. The fear that I had forgotten to cross the chains that secured the trailer to the hitch on my Pilot.
I think you get the point. It was too much for me. I sold it immediately upon my return. Then, I looked for my next rig.
I spoke with friends who have a Tacoma and a roof top tent. That sounded like a good fit. I couldn’t afford a Tacoma so I bought a Subaru Forester instead. I bought a RoofNest roof top tent the week of Christmas. My mom and I drove all the way to KY or TN to pick it up (I can’t remember the specific state).
I never used that damn tent. Not once. It wasn’t until March the next year that I even opened it up. It was finally getting warm enough to go camping again without sleeping in endless layers, wool socks, and a puffy. I drove an hour to my parents house and asked them to help me.
The RoofNest popped up so easily. I was extremely excited by the idea of it all. But then, I couldn’t get the darn tent closed by myself. I draped my entire torso over the hood of my Forester. But, I struggled to get enough leverage to tug on the strap that encouraged that side of the tent to close.
We called in reinforcements — my parents’ neighbor. Between the four of us and multiple attempts, we quickly determined there was no way that I could close the tent all by myself. As a solo female traveler, that was completely unacceptable. Plus, I had just adopted Blaze who was going to be about 55lbs. There was no way I was going to lug her up the ladder.
I put the roof top tent up for sale the next day. It was gone shortly thereafter. Onto finding my next rig, again.
In July 2023, Blaze and I drove and camped our way to Acadia National Park in Maine to meet my parents for a week-long vacation. I so badly wanted to stay and explore the area. I wanted to go into Canada. But I didn’t. Instead, I made the long trek home and stayed in hotels along the way. It was then that I decided I was going to go for it — I was finally going to buy a van.
I bought a gently used 2021 Ford Transit 350 over Labor Day weekend. I started on the van build the following weekend. It took me 8.5 months (and counting) to build the rig of my dreams.
Check out the van build series. It depicts the highs and lows, and the chaos of doing a van build yourself. Thankfully, I had a ton of help from my parents and friends. Without their knowledge, brute force, and resourcefulness, I wouldn’t be writing this from my fully converted van that’s parked at a free campsite right on the beach somewhere in Texas.
Michelle and Blaze 