Category Archives: vandwelling

The Wayfarer Weekend-Vanlife

Retirement brings both familiarity and surprises.  Routines and novel experiences.  It is no more static than working life, it is just different. And so I decided to go to a van dweller meet up, and here I sit outside of Bozeman, Montana in a barn, typing this post.

I decided to come here because I wanted to have the experience of meeting other van dwellers.  I wanted to talk to them, and I wanted to see their van creations.  I also wanted to challenge myself.

All of us at the meet-up had a basic buildout from Wayfarer Vans in Colorado Springs.  My Violet was born there in 2018, while most of the other vans at the get-together had a newer lineage and thereby fancier additions.  However, Violet was more than PVC walls and hand sewed colored cushions. Every year my friend Tom and I would tweak her, add to her abilities, and increase her functionality. Violet may not be the newest Wayfarer van, but I absolutely believe that she was the most beautiful of them all.

Today’s post goes beyond paint colors and cushion choices.  Going to the meetup at the Star M ranch in Bozeman, Montana presented to me new challenges and surprising introspections that started well before I packed my travel snacks and filled my gas tank.

Despite my strong desire to attend I also had a sense of dread.  I had asked Julie to accompany me but, understandably, she wasn’t interested in a 1400 mile trip to a dusty field.  To go alone would mean that I would have to face any and all challenges of the journey by myself.  To go alone would mean that I would have to put on my functional extrovert face,  a performance that I am skilled in donning, but still an energy-draining experience.

As a professional interviewer, I have no problem engaging others when I am invited to do so.  However, I have never quite gotten over my childhood expectation of being seen and not heard.  It is immensely difficult for me to walk up to a stranger and start a conversation.  My upbringing taught me that my thoughts and opinions were of interest to no one.  

Intellectually, I have long known that this is not the case.  Most people are happy, even eager to engage in casual conversation.  However, old tapes run deep.  Many years ago I decided to challenge those beliefs, and I did so in my usual manner of study, brute force, and repetition.  My teacher was my friend, Tom.

Tom and I are very similar in our interests and temperament.  However, we come to the table with different skill sets, and so we tend to utilize each other to compensate for those areas where we need shoring up.  Our friendship has a practical side in that we constantly help each other to be “better.”

Tom has superior social skills and has an effortless ability to engage with strangers.  I have witnessed him on dozens of occasions extracting personal information from a person that he has just met.  “So how much money does a cement truck driver make?”  Would be typical of a question that he would have no difficulty asking, and one apparently that most people have no problem answering.

I have the knowledge of how to engage with people, but watching Tom taught me that it was OK to engage with them.  This may sound like a trivial distinction, but it is not.  I have successfully adopted his techniques many times over the years, but I have never done so in an environment where I would be interacting with dozens of strangers, alone and without the benefit of an event that I was in charge of.  The thought of doing so added to my anxiety, but it was insufficient to stop me. I have not gotten as far as I have in life by yielding to my anxieties.  Fear is a barrier that I will climb over or burst through if necessary.  I lived an early life being told that I was worthless.  I was not about to live an adult life when I subconsciously told myself the same thing.  I have value.  I can contribute.  I will only be limited by my true limitations and not by remnant ghosts from the distant past.

I usually deal with my anxiety by planning and problem solving, which is what I did for this trip.  I wrote out a grocery list and made sure that my 12 volt Dometic fridge was sanitized and clean.  I charged my USB flashlight and Bluetooth speaker.  I checked the local weather and explored several plotted courses on Google Maps.  I still had some residual anxiety, but that was to be expected.

What I didn’t expect was what happened to me several days before I started my trip. On Saturday I cleaned out and washed Violet, and I reorganized her storage. I also gathered nonperishables from our pantry.  On Sunday I was supposed to go to a cousin reunion, but I had tickets for a Paramount production of “Kinky Boots.”  I had purchased the tickets before the pandemic, but the play was on hold once shelter-in-place was instituted.  This would be the first time that I would attend a public performance in almost 18 months.  Sadly, this would mean that I would miss the reunion.

The play was a bit of fluff with a dash of “message.”  The premise was ridiculous, a business is saved from bankruptcy by a drag queen who helps a straight-laced shoe factory owner make kinky boots designed to support drag queen feet. However, another message was folded into the fluff. Two men, very different, each dealing with the demons from their past help each other.  I left the play feeling that my time was well spent, but I also acknowledged that the overall experience would be quickly forgotten.

On Monday I was to help my friend Tom.  He was remodeling a bathroom for a Naperville client.  He wanted me to take some before photos of the space as it would soon be demolished. These photos would serve as a counterpoint to photos that I would take of the finished job.  The latter laboriously photographed and carefully edited to make the bathroom appear beautiful enough for a spread in “House Beautiful.”  

I take these jobs very seriously and I approach them as such.  On Sunday night I pulled out my professional gear, a Canon 5D Mark IV, and charged its battery.  I selected and mounted a wide-angle lens on the camera body, and I made sure that my flash was in working order.  As I said above, Tom helps me, and I help Tom.

On Monday I felt off.  I drove to Tom’s place and got into his Flex.  We arrived at the remodel site and were greeted by the client.  Tom looked over his shoulder at me and told her, “This is Mike he is an amateur photographer and he will be taking some photos for me of the bathroom.   That simple statement caused me to snap out loud, “I’m a professional photographer.”  It also caused something to snap inside of me.  It is clear that the client and her husband picked up on my comment as they continued the line of conversation in a joking way, but with a slight air of classism. With a chuckle, the husband asked me where my gallery was, and if I was planning on submitting my photos to “Home and Garden.”  It was not the right thing to say to me at that moment.  I bit my lip, weakly smiled, and offered a comment designed to end his line of questioning.  He quieted and left the room. There was no way that I was going to jeopardize my friend Tom’s job.  However, I was now boiling inside.

Dear readers, I am almost always a very calm and deliberate person.  It is extremely unusual for me to raise my voice, and even more unusual for me to do so without a thoughtful and logical delivery.  However, as soon as his clients were out of earshot I let loose on poor Tom.  My rage was palpable as I told him in no uncertain terms that telling a client that I was an amateur inhibited me from doing my job to the best of my ability.  I reminded him that I was doing professional work for him, despite the fact that I was doing it for free.  I highlighted to him the time spent before and after a shoot, and the effort involved during those periods.  Tom’s tendency is to interrupt and explain, but I was having none of this.  With my finger pointed at him, I told him in no uncertain terms that I didn’t give a shit about his excuses.  It was as if I was possessed by an outside entity.  My rage dumped on him, but there was no sense of relief, rather I was consumed by a sense of confusion.  What just happened, and why did it happen?  I had no answer.

I helped Tom with a few menial tasks, but I did so quietly.  I made small conversation, but it was stilted and awkward.  Finally, he drove me back home, but he didn’t take me there, and instead he took me to his Devonshire property.  “Aren’t you going to take me home,” I asked? “Mike, you drove your car here,” he replied.  I was so upset that I completely had forgotten that I had done so.  I got into Violet and drove the 5 minutes back to my house and promptly went upstairs and laid down on my bed as I tried to process what had just happened. One of the reasons was apparent.  Like many men, I value respect above other values.  In my mind, Tom was disrespectful of me by calling me an amateur when I have done many professional-level jobs for him.  His actions were further amplified by the clients’ comments that seemed to imply that my attestation that I was a professional photographer was subject to ridicule.  Still, my out-of-control retort to Tom seemed well beyond a simple case of a bruised ego.

After a bit, I forced myself out of my bed and went downstairs.  I was still feeling surly and felt obligated to warn both Julie and Kathryn that I was very crabby, but not angry at them.  However, I emphasized that my anger was generalized and that they should stay clear of me.  As the day progressed I continued to feel a general dissatisfaction towards everyone, especially myself.  I was completely baffled why I was being so reactive.  Yes, I had some anxiety about driving to Bozeman, but that hardly could be the nidus for my volcanic rage. I just don’t feel that level of anger.

As the day went on I started to feel progressively more guilty about the morning’s events.  I shot Tom a few friendly text messages. In turn, he did the same and mentioned that he wanted to formally secure Violet’s Wabasto heater. Tom had helped me install the heater a few months earlier and mentioned doing this final step at that time.  However, this was not necessary for the trip. My sour mood continued.

I’m usually good at identifying behavioral triggers, but I was coming up dry.  As the evening progressed I called my sister, Nancy, and voiced my concerns.  Nancy is a professional therapist and offered me both support and insight.  Unfortunately, I had already examined and discounted the behavioral causes and effects that she suggested.  Yet, I was ever grateful for her support and kind ear.

Julie was in the room folding laundry as I pondered my anger with Nancy.  Julie asked, “Would you like to hear my thoughts?”   “Of course,” I replied.  Her first thought was that she had recently gained some accolades and she wondered if I was feeling upstaged by her.  I replied, “No, I’m happy when you succeed.  I like basking in the glow of your successes.”  She paused for a moment, almost to second guess what she was about to say.  “Maybe it was the play?”  I responded, “The play, why would that silly play have such an impact on me?” “Well, it involved men who were a disappointment to their fathers who didn’t believe in them. Fathers who wanted their sons to conform to their wishes while ignoring their dreams and aspirations.  Sort of like your childhood.”  Click… 

Who would have thought that a simple play would have such a profound impact on me.

I instantly felt a release as the anger that I was feeling washed away from me.  I hadn’t been able to figure out my reaction because it was too primitive, too dangerous, too risky to bring into my conscious self.  Julie could see my internal conflict and her Ph.D. training gave her the ability to articulate it in a clear and therapeutic way for me.  I was very grateful. Later that day I talked to my sister, Carol.  Just like my sister Nancy, she was completely supportive of me and completely accepting.  Like Nancy, she had no reservation to tell me that I was special, good, and loved.

I now realized that on the morning of the incident Tom represented my father and thereby served as a lightning rod for the anger that I was feeling on a subconscious level.  In my primitive mind, he was rejecting me and my talents.  I felt like he was saying that I was not good enough. This feeling was exacerbated by Tom’s client’s comments that humorously mocked the idea that I could consider myself a professional. 

When I turned 18 I decided to take control of my life and I used the rage that I felt as a tool to propel me forward.  I was going to allow myself to be who I was, do what I thought was in my best interest, and not allow anyone to be disrespectful of me or my abilities.  No one had to agree with me, but no one was allowed to make fun of me.  Doing so would result in the full force of my abilities to put them back in their place.  Thankfully, I almost never had to do the above as most people were both respectful and considerate towards me, and this only increased as I amassed ever more degrees and titles.  However, the play opened up a wound that I thought was long healed, and anger that I felt I had conquered decades earlier.

The next day I met with Tom, who was quiet and a bit standoffish.  He had driven to a different suburb to buy a specialty tool to affix the Wabasto heater for me and refused when I offered to pay for the part.  After he secured the unit I asked him if he had a minute because I needed to talk to him.  To the best of my ability, I made sincere amends to him for my actions from the previous morning.  My tough-guy sailor mouth friend was genuinely hurt by my prior eruption, and he let me know that.  I felt relieved to say that I was sorry but genuinely upset that I hurt his feelings.  I hoped that my bad actions had not irreparably damaged our friendship.  However, that was all that I could do.

Despite the relief of understanding my outburst, I still had the stress of the upcoming trip.  Tom signaled that we were good by offering to meet up for coffee on the morning of my departure.  Julie did an extra load of laundry for me so I would have enough shorts and shirts for my adventure.  Kathryn checked in with me several times to ask if I was feeling better, and both of my sisters continued to offer their unending support and love.  

There is something powerful about real love, and each of these individuals showed me this before my journey.  I am ever grateful.  They were there for me despite my crankiness.  I knew that I could get people to connect with me if I was brilliant, funny, interesting, or thoughtful.  Here were 5 people who loved me at a time when I was none of the above.  I was good enough just being me.  How many people don’t have a single person who truly loves them?  Here, I had five.  I felt blessed beyond belief.  

I still had to deal with my internal anxiety, but at least I was in a position to do so without the burden of past demons.  At 9:30 AM I boarded Violet to start my journey.  She was packed with clothes and groceries.  Next to me was my snack bag, hydro flask, coffee thermos, and Motrin.  I was as ready as I could be and feeling significantly calmer about the task ahead.

I had a fridge full of perishables and a “pantry” full of can goods. My sister suggested that I try packing my clothes in a laundry basket, which turned out to be a great idea.
Next to me was a bag of snacks, a hydro flask with ice water, a thermos full of coffee, and a bottle of Motrin.

I pulled out of my driveway while listening to mechanical directions from Google Maps.  Off I went.

The initial part of my journey was familiar and comforting as I drove past Rockford and into Wisconsin.  I had taken that path many times driving to Julie’s Minnesota family.  Beyond Minneapolis I would be heading to Fargo, North Dakota, then Bozeman, Montana.

Despite road construction driving conditions were good.  I entertained myself by scanning local radio stations, listening to Sirius radio feeds, and talking on the phone.  The trip was long, but I was feeling calm.  I decided to drive until I felt tired as opposed to driving a certain distance.  That feeling happened in Northern Minnesota.  I found myself forcing my eyes open and I knew that it was time to call it a day.  I searched for a campground but found none.  I found respite in a Minnesota rest area.  I pulled into a far corner of the parking lot, covered my windows with my homemade Reflectix shades, and crawled into bed.

My first overnight was at a rest stop in northern Minnesota.

The next morning I made a quick breakfast using my induction cooktop.  Pour-over coffee with cream, and oatmeal with dried cranberries.  After a quick cleanup, I was once again on the road.  This time I wanted to drive until I was about 3 hours away from my destination, the Star M Ranch which was outside of Bozeman.  I drove west and watched the foliage change from a lush green, to a duller green, then to a scrubby brown-green. I scanned a couple of apps to find a campground but could locate none.  It appeared that I was traveling in a vast zone of nothingness. Each exit proclaiming “No Services,” every one punctuated by expanses of rocks, dirt, scrub, and nothing more. Finally, I saw, “Rest Area Next Exit.”  I had found my next sleeping spot. 

A simple breakfast of pour-over coffee (made directly into my thermos) and oatmeal with dried cranberries.

The site was empty and isolated.  Housing only a small brown building with facilities and a parking lot.  It was perched over a valley with the meandering Yellowstone River cursing below.  Like the night before I quietly moved in and selected a distant, but not a too distant parking spot.  That night I ate a roast beef sandwich that I dunked into some microwaved Progresso Tomato Basil soup.  I worried if the spot was safe, and I further pondered if parking overnight was legal.  However, I took my chances, changed into my bedclothes, climbed into bed, and fell asleep.

On my way I took a little side trip to the Theodore Roosevelt National Park.
The rest stop that I stayed in Montanna overlooked the Yellowstone river.
The next morning I looked at the window and saw what appeared to be a pair of men’s underpants outside my window. I don’t think it was there the night before.
When I woke up the entire valley below was enveloped in a thick fog.
The sign says it all.
This was right next to the Montanna rest stop. Beautiful!

I slept soundly, in fact too soundly.  I woke blurry, dull, and two hours later than my usual wake time.  I made some coffee, but I didn’t feel hungry.  I decided to wait until I could find a drive-through where I could grab a quick breakfast sandwich.  After washing my face and brushing my teeth I pulled myself into Violet’s driver seat and headed west down I-90 towards Bozeman.  My GPS signaled that I was three and a half hours away.

This was the only time that I ate in an actual restaurant on my trip.

Meetup-Day One

I drove down Stimson Lane and caught sight of a row of Ram Promasters in a field on my left.  A colorful “W” followed by the words, “Wayfarer Vans” highlighted the entrance to the venue.  I pulled in and was greeted by a cheerful staff member who handed me an envelope full of stickers and an itinerary.  Another staff person acted like an airport marshaller and slotted Violet between two other vans.  Once given the signal I placed her in park, turned off the key, and exited her confines.

Ten of the forty or so vans had already arrived.  Most people were sporting large 136 or 159 wheelbase Promasters,  but some were driving the much smaller Promaster City.  Wayfarer Vans had custom packages to convert all flavors of Promaster.  There was a size for every taste.

Some of the Promasters. Violet is the one with the red umbrella.
Another Promaster view. In all, there were three rows, and some random vans here and there.

To the left of me was a Promaster 159.  It was occupied by two ladies from Nevada, Joyce and Ellen.  They were both long-divorced who raised their respective children as single parents.  They were also long-time friends who eventually decided to live together.  One of them was in her 80s and they gained my respect with the knowledge that they had mutually bought the Promaster just last year so they could continue to explore the country.  They were instantly warm and welcoming.

On the other side of me was a man in a Promaster City.  Alan had a slight but wiry build that announced that he was a life-long athlete. He was gregarious in an effortless way, and he instantly engaged me in conversation.  After some time he moved to another group and acted similarly.  I could hear him laugh and joke with total strangers as if he had known them for years.  I was envious of his ability and felt a bit ashamed that I was lacking in that area.

Across me was a man who identified himself as a confirmed bachelor. Doug had moved from big LA to small St. George, Utah.  He said moved because he didn’t like what was happening in California.  I felt that it was best to not press for more information, but I made a mental note to keep my liberal leanings to myself.  Doug was a professional voice-over actor who could ply his trade anywhere that he had an internet connection. He was a friendly guy who was enjoyable to talk with.

Down the lane was another single man who had two immaculately groomed Schnauzers, a male, and a female wearing respective blue and pink harnesses. Vern was a retired IT professional who lived in LA and had a love of gadgets and a problem-solving mind that reminded me of myself. We got to talking and he revealed that he grew up in Chicago in the same neighborhood as I did.  However, he lived on the east side of Western Avenue, while I lived on the west side.  Another man entered our conversation and when he found out that we grew up in the same neighborhood he commented that we were probably playmates “in the day.”  Vern and I shot each other a glance as we both chucked and said, “probably not.”  Vern was black and I was white. Chicago was a racist town in the 1970s.  How grateful I was that this was 2021 and not 1971.  I think Vern and I could have been good friends in the day if not hampered by the limitation of our upbringing. 

I was making a strong and good effort to socialize, but I was doing so by putting on my functional extrovert persona. It was fun, but also exhausting.  I retreated to Violet for a supper of another roast beef sandwich, made expressly to use up my open package of cold cuts.  The remaining event for the day was a bonfire, and despite my exhaustion, I was committed to going. The bonfire was actually a lava rock filled circle outfitted with a number of Bunsen burner like jets.  It was an odd device likely designed to safely burn in arid and fire-prone Montana. I spotted a familiar face next to an open seat and approached the person asking if the adjacent spot was taken.  “I think so,” was the reply. I quickly moved to another spot and sat quietly as my level of awkwardness built.  I fumbled with my phone and tried to look occupied, but within short order, I knew that I wanted to leave.  I had pushed my envelope about as far as I could and there was nothing left in me that would allow me to once again start a conversation with a new stranger.  I was spent. I planed an exit strategy that I thought would be subtle.  I would go to the Port-a-Potty and then sneak off to Violet.  This was exactly what I did. Once inside I pushed in my Relfectix shade, popped in my Apple AirPods, and clicked on the audiobook that I was listening to, Becoming by Michelle Obama. I sat in the quiet with Violet’s cabin illuminated by 4 battery-operated faux candles that changed colors in a rhythmic and calming pattern.  The instant relief that I felt verified that I had made the right choice.  I’m an introvert and I can only do so much socializing.  Yet, despite all of my good efforts, I feared that I had failed.  I was judging myself based on a passing grade of being 100% perfect.  

I wondered if I had made the right choice by coming to the meet-up.  I was playing my comparison game.  Everyone seemed to have an easier time socially connecting.  I had done well enough, but I was play-acting.  I felt inadequate and slightly ashamed.  Yet, Violet’s safe and secure surroundings gave me the courage to go for day two.

1919 Barn turned into a party barn. This is where all of our meals were served.
Another photo that I took of the Star-M property.
Some of the Wayfarer employees camped out in tents.
Another property landscape. The clouds are rolling in, but so was the smoke from a forest fire.
This grain silo is now a water tank for the barn’s modern fire sprinkler system.

Meetup-Day Two

I woke up and ripped open a pudgy package of Epic XL shower wipes.  These one-by-two foot wipes have a slight eucalyptus fragrance and can serve as an emergency shower.  Since showers were not available at the ranch the Epic wipe would have to be an acceptable substitute.  As a dry camper, I am experienced using the wipes knowing that you start by cleaning your cleanest parts as you progressively scrub ever more needed regions.  Once hygienic I brushed my teeth, sprayed on a little cologne, and dressed.  

I exited Violet and immediately went over to the two ladies’ van as they were holding court with several other van dwellers.  They welcomed me and I felt at ease entering their circle.  The members of the group were no longer strangers, they were now, at least, acquaintances.  We all meandered to the barn for breakfast but we were greeted by a sign saying that it was delayed due to a catering mess up.  Our conversation continued in the barn and I revealed to them for the first time that I was a physician.  Perhaps oddly, I don’t like to tell people that I’m a doctor as it can sometimes set up an artificial barrier.   

Eventually, food arrived, an enormous selection that was quickly gathered from local stores by the Wayfarer staff.  We listened to a few talks after breakfast, and then the group broke up to go to various scheduled activities-mountain biking, a short hike, or free time. I thought about going on the scheduled hike, around two miles, and regarded as moderate.  I knew that this level of exercise was within my capabilities, but I held back.  I didn’t want to slow up more athletic hikers. This was another old tape from the past.  I never played team sports because I didn’t want to pull others down with my insufficiencies. Always being told how uncoordinated I was I believed that I would be a harm rather than a help to any team that I would join. I didn’t feel that I needed to challenge myself with this.   I elected to take my iPad back into the barn, now empty and quiet, and to start this post.  It was the right decision to make.

Something happened to the caterer, so the Wayfarer staff went out and bought an enormous amount of breakfast treats.
The smokey sky from forest fires led to some spectacular sunsets.
There were a number of talks. This one was on the history of the Star-M Barn and how it went from hay barn to party barn.

Eventually, I tired of writing and wandered back towards the campers and engaged in a number of conversations.  The staff videographer asked me if I wanted to do a video tour of Violet.  I agreed and the interview began. After the interview, we talked about cameras, editing software, and wireless microphone choices. Other van dwellers then came up to me with questions about Violet’s solar panels, microwave oven, organizational boxes, and Wabasto heater.  

I found that the empty barn was the perfect place to write this blog.

Jinny was a newbie who had questions about my induction cooktop. She was a bit unusual as she was an older Asian woman traveling solo. I made an honest effort to encapsulate useful information about induction cooking and how I monitored my electrical system to make sure that had enough power for my other devices, such as my Dometic fridge.

Later Jinny showed me her van, a completely tricked-out Promaster 159.  I got to know her a little better and it was clear that she had given a lot of thought to adopting this new lifestyle.  She had the book knowledge and it seemed like she was now hoping to gain the practical knowledge to successfully travel in a van.

Many van dwellers had cool toys, like this folding e-bike.

As in my conversations with other van dwellers, I didn’t want to assault her with my professional interviewing style.  The style where I can learn everything from a person’s favorite color to details about their sex lives in 45 minutes or less.  What I would learn about Jinny would be what she would choose to tell me.

She told me that she had a huge house in Seattle that she recently sold.  She purchased several acres of land outside of Seattle that already contained a 3 car garage and an RV garage.  She bought the land because of the RV garage and bought an RV without ever driving one. This was a mistake as the lumbering behemoth was stressful to drive.  She sold the RV and was much happier with her Wayfarer van.

She had a shed built on the land and had it converted into a tiny house. The residence didn’t have a kitchen but was reasonably close to the company that she owned.  When her employees went home in the evening she use her workplace kitchen to make Hello Fresh types meals, a portion which she brought back to her tiny house.  This seemed to work for her. Jinny was in the process of building a fourplex on the property, which she would rent out.  Once completed she would retire and use the rentals for her income.

Jinny showed me a photo of her beautiful daughter and her adorable grandchild.  They were living in Minnesota and I believe she was establishing her nomad lifestyle so she could spend more time with them.  I thought to myself, “What a fascinating person.”

Then it was time for another catered dinner.  This one consisted of a make-your-own taco bar but added the twist of pull pork and chicken mole fillings. Here I found Bill.  I had talked to Bill a few times before.  He was sitting alone and I asked him if I could join him.  Bill was a tallish man with a wild horseshoe style mustache. Bill retired from the airlines after working for them for over 40 years. He then converted his passion for woodcarving into a successful mail-order business but shuttered its doors when the company became so successful that it sucked the joy out of his hobby.  Bill said that he was always fascinated with trucks, so he then got his commercial license and became an 18 wheel truck driver for 10 years before he finally retired.  

Bill lost his wife 3 years prior to our meeting and it was clear that he still missed her terribly.  A former Chicagoan, he had moved to Mesa, Arizona decades earlier where he raised his two sons.  Bill was immensely proud of his two boys, one who lived in Colorado and the other in Arizona.  They came up in every conversation that I had with Bill.  I liked this about him.  Bill became my dining partner for the rest of the event.  I could imagine him as a next-door neighbor and friend who would stop by for coffee and chat.  That would be fun.

There were so many others that I talked to.  The couple originally from Glen Ellen, Illinois now living in Steamboat, Colorado after raising their kids.  They seemed the executive type, pleasant with ease with strangers that comes from years of neighborhood gatherings and business meetings.  They commented on how neat and organized Violet was.  I had to chuckle because they were right.  Three years of my obsessiveness combined with friend Tom’s carpentry skills had turned Violet into a well-oiled machine where there was a place for everything and everything had its place.  

There was Dana, a single woman in a 159 Promaster who was also fairly new to van travel. She had purchased some folding solar panels, but she was afraid to use them.  I helped her set them up as I tried to emphasize how easy the process was.  Dana was very social on day one but then seemed to disappear.  She left early noting that she wanted to beat the bad weather on her journey back to Colorado.  I felt that she had had enough of this adventure and wanted to return to the security of her basecamp. 

There was a couple from Indianapolis.  I met the first one during breakfast on day two and then her wife on day three.  They owned a coffee shop in Indie but were hoping to sell it so they could explore America in their camper van.  

There was the couple where the woman slept in her tiny converted Promaster City and the man slept in an adjoining orange tent.  I’m not sure what their status was.  Couple? Friends? Whatever their status it was clear that they genuinely liked each other.  

There was the guy with the giant German Shepard and the lady with the Golden Doodle and so many more.  When I saw someone I didn’t know I went up to them, introduced myself, and started a conversation.

The day ended back in Violet’s welcoming chamber, AirPods in, audiobook on.

Meetup-Day Three

I woke up to frigid temperatures and instantly turned on the Wabasto.  Like the day before I procedurally went through my hygiene and dressing ritual and then went outside to socialize.  Soon it was time for breakfast, sort of a Continental affair.  I grabbed a fruit cup, muffin, and a small parfait and balanced a cup of coffee on top of my plate as I made my way from the food line up the stairs to the dining tables. I sat with a group of familiar faces as I sipped my coffee and nibbled on my muffin. I smiled and occasionally offered comments as they talked about everything from the cold weather to Elon Musk.   

The frigid weather forced a number of van dwellers to pack up and leave as another number of them went off on various explorations.  I hunkered down in Violet, as the only jacket that I packed was a light hoody.  On occasion, I would wander out to re-engage with other dwellers to have pleasant conversations as I continued to reinforce my socialization skills.  However, after doing this for the two previous days I was also happy to have my alone time.  I wrote, read, and talked on the phone.  Prior to my journey, I had planned on taking a side trip back to Yellowstone, as it was only 90 minutes away from Bozeman.  However, my weather app said that the high in Yellowstone was going to be 42F on Monday, with a low of only 16F.  Some snow was also predicted.  I mentioned my change of plans while on the phone to my friend Tom, who was insistent that I should go anyway.  That was Tom, who was always interested in exploring and learning something new.  However, my short pants and thin hoodie suggested otherwise.  I told Tom, “We’ll see,” code to let him know that I wasn’t going to do it and that I didn’t want to debate my decision.  He understood, and we changed the subject.  

The weather report told me that a side-trip to Yellowstone was a no-go as all I had was a light hoodie to keep me warm.

I had now found my pace at the meetup.  Mixing socialization times with alone times gave me the balance that my introverted self required.  More conversations followed with Vern, Jinny, the camera guy, and others mixed with writing, reading, and thinking.  I was no longer exhausted, no longer mad at myself for not being the best “socializer” in the group.  I no longer criticize myself for not challenging myself further.  I was content.

One day it was so windy that this poor van dweller’s awning was torn to shreds.

Meetup-Last morning and the road.

Half of the 40 vans had already left the event.  I heard some people outside chatting, but many chose to avoid the bitter cold by staying inside their vehicles.  Eventually, it was time for breakfast.  This last meal was dubbed a “Grab and Go” meal.  However, most of us grabbed and sat down.  I found Bill and we both went down to the buffet line.  Balancing a biodegradable style plate I examined and placed items into it.  Some sort of egg dish, a small muffin, a little fruit.  At the end of the line was the coffee.  The cups were small, and so I filled two of them.  Now I had to figure out how to balance two cups and a floppy plate up the stairs to the dining hall. I didn’t do this gracefully, but I manage to get to the table without dropping everything.  

We sat and chatted and Bill invited me back to his van as I had expressed interest in how he liked a partition that he had purchased that isolated his van’s cabin from the front cab.  At the end of the demonstration, he offered me a few pre-soaped sheets that he said were great at removing van bug reside.  In my mind it was a gesture gift, suggesting a new friendship.   

I said a few more goodbyes, to Doug, the coffee ladies, even some random folks who I had never talked to.  I went back to Violet and made sure that her cabin was secure, lest everything wouldn’t go flying when I hit the road.

I wasn’t going to go to Yellowstone, but I wasn’t finished with exploring.  I set my GPS for downtown Bozeman and drove out of the ranch.  Bozeman is a town of around forty thousand and its downtown looks very similar to my hometown of Naperville.  Two and three-story buildings, many appeared that they were constructed during the first half of the last century. They were well maintained and the shops that they contained suggested that the town was doing well.  Sporting goods, coffee, bikes, spices and teas, the list went on.  I took a few photos, but I was chilled and didn’t linger.  

Downtown Bozeman is filled with cute shops and wide sidewalks.
A lot of the architecture had a 1900-1920s look.
I thought that this bike shop had an interesting sign.

I like visiting colleges and so my next stop was Montana State University, which was about six minutes away from downtown.  Here too, I got out and wandered.  The campus was spotless and pretty.  However, it was sized more like the small North Central College in my hometown rather than the behemoth state universities that I’m accustomed to in Illinois. Yet, it is the largest university in the state of Montana, with an enrollment of around fourteen thousand students.  I milled around with the students as they marched to their next classes and I was struck by how similar they looked to students that I had witnessed at other colleges that I had visited. Some were wearing heavy down vests, others in t-shirts and shorts.  Some with expensive clothes, others wearing Goodwill bargains.  Each bright face a potential future Elon Musk or Warren Buffett.  I looked at the grey hairs on my arms and then back to their eager faces and I became acutely aware of the different phases of our lives.  They were speeding towards expectation, I was lumbering towards acceptance.  We were both still moving, still growing.  However, I no longer felt the anxiety of urgency.  Rather, I was taking what I had and tweaking it to better fit who I wanted to be.

Like many colleges, Montanna State had a beautiful “Old Main” building.
However, there were also quite a few modern buildings.

I returned to the comfort of Violet and searched for a gas station, which I found on the edge of Bozeman’s downtown.  A tiny station with a small convenience type store.  I put the pump on automatic and went inside to grab a cup of coffee.  After filling a 16 oz styrofoam cup I wandered the store looking for a perfect snack.  There were rows of candy bars and protein bars.  Aisles of popcorn and beef jerky, end caps of snack cakes.  I took it all in, but nothing really appealed to me.  I approached the front counter and was greeted by a woman in her 40s.  She said, “Is that all?”  I could tell that she was sizing me up, and I must have looked a sight.  In front of her was an old man, somewhat disheveled, and with a full week’s growth of beard.  I saw her glance at me and then at Violet.  I could only assume that she thought I was homeless and I was concerned that she was passing judgment on me. She repeated, “Is that it?”  “Yep,” I said and reached for my wallet.  She said, “It’s only 99 cents and guess what?”   I replied, “What?”  She looked at me and gave me a big smile, “It’s on me.”  My eyes misted up and I returned the smile, “Really?  Thank you!”  This lady was likely making minimum wage yet she was reaching out with kindness to a stranger who she had never met and who she assumed needed a little TLC.  I felt lifted up by her random act of kindness.

The next days would be grueling as I wanted to return back home in two days, rather than the three that I allotted. Once again, I entertained myself with old radio shows, NPR, audiobooks, phone calls, local radio stations, and thinking. As I drove the miles I would cycle through these options.  As soon as one would become tiresome I would move to another.

I came across a National Monument, Pompey’s Pillar, a rock formation in central Montana.  The site is famous for many petroglyphs as well as the carved signature of William Clark of Lewis and Clark fame.  Apparently, his signature is the only remaining physical evidence of his journey with Meriwether Lewis. It felt good to gain free entry using my lifelong National Parks Senior Pass.  The ranger at the gate gave me a full history of the site and urged me to watch the park’s movie and to talk to the other rangers who were stationed on the rock itself.  Another nice person!

Pompey’s Piller National Monument is basically one big giant rock.
Climbing to the top of the rock provided some very pretty views.

There is only so much time that you can spend climbing a 200-foot rock, and it wasn’t long before I was once again sitting in Violet’s driver’s seat, heading east.  Driving in the western states of Montana and North Dakota is a lesson in isolation.  A thin ribbon of asphalt propels you forward, but much of the landscape remains the same.  Brownish green brush, endless rocks, the occasional buff or range of mountains.  It is all extremely beautiful, but disconcerting for an urban lad, such as myself.  I’m used to a certain degree of noise and congestion and I gain a level of comfort knowing that there are 5 gas stations, 3 grocery stores, and two hardware stores writhing a 5-minute drive from my house.  On I-90 I could drive 50 or even 100 miles without seeing a human-made structure.  I passed countless exits with signs that stated “No Services.”  With no connected town, these exits seemed to drop off the end of the earth into a zone of nothingness.  

The landscape was barren but breathtaking.

As I drove I sipped coffee, then Diet Pepsi, then water.  I rutted through my snack bag and munched on various trashy treats-Chex Mix, pretzels, Belvita bars.  The amount of non-nutritious foods that I was eating made me feel sick, and I longed for a salad.  However, that longing didn’t stop me from once again reaching into the bag to grab another crumb.

It was now around 6 PM and both Violet and I needed to fill up.  Google told me that there was a gas station 26 miles ahead, the only one-and so that would be my stop.  At the station, there was a man with snow-white hair and a bushy mustache who was fueling his Tahoe.  He was pulling a fishing boat and heading west to Washington state.  He too was a solo traveler and clearly feeling lonely.  In short order, he started to tell me his story, but I had to cut him short as I wanted to grab dinner from the Cenex store.  I entered the establishment and was greeted by the intoxicating aroma of gas station pizza.  However, when I wandered back to the food zone I was disappointed to only find three items on the warming shelf.  Two boxes of chicken strips and a breakfast burrito.  It appeared that they had been heated hours before and I couldn’t bear the thought of eating them.  I grabbed a bag of popcorn and a bottle of diet Mountain Dew-that would be my dinner for the evening.

Popcorn and diet Mountain Dew for dinner.

Yes, dear reader, I had a fridge and pantry full of things that I could have made.  Eggs, canned soup, lunch meat, and even some vegetables.  However, I just wanted to keep going.  I was missing my loved ones and wanted to get home.

I drove on until I could drive no further.  However, there was nowhere to stop.  No town, no hotel, no truck stop, nothing.  Now deep into North Dakota, I spied the blue and white sign of a rest stop.  At last!  My plan was to camp out there until the morning, but my heart sank when I drove in and saw a large black and white sign that said, “No Overnight Camping.”  I knew that it was best practice to move on, but I had nowhere to go.  I pulled into a slot and search for information on North Dakota’s DMV site.  They stated that it was illegal to park longer than three hours at their rest stops and that they considered that sleeping in a van was camping.  It couldn’t be any clearer.  Despite being exhausted I assessed my situation and came up with a plan.  Sleeping 3 hours would allow me to drive further to some other place, perhaps another rest stop or a truck stop.  There I could repeat the practice.  I set an alarm for three hours and crawled into Violet’s bunk.  This time I didn’t change into my sleeping shorts.  I wanted to be ready to move if an officer banged on my door and forced me to drive on.  Apparently, I turned off the alarm during the night because I woke at 6 AM-rested.  No one bothered me.  I meandered to the bathroom, which was completely empty.  I took a photo in there-a perfectly OK thing to do considering that I was alone, but somehow it felt a bit wrong. Then I was on the road again.

Taking a forbidden photo inside of an empty men’s room.
I was going to treat myself to a real breakfast on my last travel day, but the closest restaurant was almost 100 miles away!
I started my last drive with the sun directly in my eyes.

My last travel day was similar to the one before it.  However, as I went further east both the landscape and the population changed.  I drove on listening, thinking, snacking.  Julie was texting me and pressing me about my location and when I planned on returning to Naperville.  I was being deliberately vague as I wanted to surprise her by showing up a day early.  Dear reader, I’m not very good at deception, but I did my best.  She called me when I was driving through Aurora, about 15 minutes from home.  I tried to divert her direct questions and I could clearly hear the frustration in her voice.  When I arrived she was happy to see me but also peeved at me.  Later, Kathryn told me that Julie was worried about me because I was acting uncharacteristically confused.  She thought I could get lost or fall asleep on the road and she was concerned.  Apparently, her being miffed with me was based on this unnecessary worry. I apologized.

I finish this post from the comfort of my little study with its mullioned windows and overstuffed leather easy chair.  Despite its small size, it is larger than Violet’s living space by a magnitude.  My environment is now a controlled 72F and I have a bathroom only a few paces away.  Last night I took an endless shower, rubbing a thick bar of creamy soap over my body.  I shaved away a week’s worth of beard and felt the spacious wonderment of a king-size bed, silky sheets, and puffy pillows.  

I’m glad to be home, but I never felt deprived living out of Violet.  I planned her environment well and that planning has served me.

My out-or-proportion anger towards Tom surprised and shocked me.  The stress of the trip combined with the play and a few poorly chosen comments took calm and collected me and transformed me into a person that I felt that I had long left behind. Yet, it was still there.  Issues from the past still haunted me 50 years later.  It was a humbling experience.

I have taken long trips solo in the past, but that doesn’t mean that they are not stressful. I can fill hours of time alone, but it is more enjoyable to ride with a co-pilot.  Whether that is Julie or William sitting next to me, or Tom driving his own car.  

My biggest challenge was interacting with 75 strangers in a confined setting. Lessons from the past taught me that I should be seen but not heard and it has always been enormously difficult for me to initiate a conversation with a stranger. Over the years I have observed how my friend  Tom easily connects with others and I have modeled those observations to successfully break my inhibitions.  However, this would only involve a single person and for a short period of time.  I have never challenged myself to do so with 75 strangers in a venue that ran for days.

I was down on myself on day one.  Yes, I had started up multiple conversations with numerous people.  However, I was judging myself against another and clearly coming up short. His incredible ease of socializing made my efforts look paltry.  By the time that I was rejected at the bonfire, I was already exhausted and spent.  This amplified my feelings of inadequacy and I wondered why in the world did introverted me subject myself to this extroverted challenge.  I return back to Violet feeling defeated and exposed. Inside I felt a rush of relief and comfort. During that moment I gained a better understanding of myself. I am an introvert, I could expand my abilities and develop my social skills, but I would always be an introvert.  Extroverts, like Alan, are different creatures who gain energy from their interactions.  I enjoy people, but I need to recharge away from them which is why isolating in Violet felt so good.  

Indeed, I had made great progress.  Years ago I would have never approached a stranger to start a conversation.  Lately, I have had no problem doing this.  Now, I was on a trip that would force me to drive 3000 miles alone for the purpose of interacting with 75 strangers over an extended weekend.  I wasn’t Alan, but I was still doing pretty well.

As soon as I recognized what was going on I altered my approach.  I would still socialize.  I would still initiate.  However, I would give myself times to recharge in between.  Sometimes I would quietly think, or read, or write.  Any of these behaviors were enough to top off my battery and allow me to move forward and experience more.

The people that I met were all different, but they had a common thread-they were all incredibly nice and very interesting.  How fortunate I was to interact with them.  The hosting crew was also beyond pleasant.  I got to chat with Ian, the owner of Wayfarer Vans for a bit.  I asked, “Why didn’t you bring accessories to sell?” He replied, “I wanted this to be a family event, not a commercial one,” He succeeded.

I learned a little more about van life and a lot more about many interesting people.  Beyond the weekend warriors, there was the lady who bought me a 99 cent cup of coffee, the ranger who wanted to share the excitement of Pompeys Piller, and the man with the bushy mustache who just wanted to talk to someone. Each was kind, accepting, and generous in their own ways.

At 68 I still have much to learn.  Without realizing it I still am battling with demons from my past.  However, I continue to grow and advance.  I am who I am and some things will always be out of my reach.  With that said, I’m not a static creature locked into a persona created decades earlier.  I’m evolving in all ways.  My goal is to continue to grow but to also accept myself.  As an adult, I feel that I had pretty good ego strength.  However, it only took a few events to make me return to a past time.  I wasn’t able to shake off a minor blow to my self-respect.  I turned a molehill into a mountain.  Thankfully, with the help of others I was able to understand that process and (hopefully) use it to be a better person in the future.

I am so grateful to be me.  Living in my little town, touring in my little camper.  I will never be the most popular kid on the block, or the most famous, or the richest, or the most accomplished.  However, I feel that I am loved and I love others.  What more could I ask for?

Peace

Mike

The Complete Van Dweller’s Guide to Cooking in a Car, Van, Or Minivan.

In my last post, I wrote about creating a usable kitchen when lodging in a hotel. This post will be on a related topic: cooking in a car or van. I would also suggest that you read my previous hotel-cooking post as some of those ideas apply to vehicle cooking. However, there are enough differences to warrant a separate post.

In 2018 I bought a cargo van and started the process of converting it into a campervan. I have traveled all over the country in “Violet” and have slept in traditional campgrounds, National Park campgrounds, rest stops, BML land, on the side of rural roads, and in urban locations. Usually, I live in a “sticks and bricks” house; Violet is my retirement adventure vehicle. 

Violet the van makes camping easy.
I have stealth camped in urban settings.
I have camped in gorgeous National Parks.
Looking out of Violet’s side door.
Violet’s cabin as viewed from my loft bed.
Parking in a Nation Park campground is both inexpensive and beautiful.
Glad that we added a power port to the camper van, so I could use a little heater.
A big fire in a snowy campground.

Today I will be writing about individuals who live in non-RV-type vehicles. There is some fluidity between RVers and vehicle dwellers. However, RVs are built with fully functional kitchens, where other vehicles are not.   

Skip my philosophical rant and go directly to the article by clicking this link.

Several different groups live in vehicles. Some Generation X and Z individuals live in converted vans to buck societal norms. They have rejected the astronomical cost of a college education and are seeking a different path, others shun a 40 hour/week rat race job. They want to live their lives on their terms, focusing on being in the now instead of waiting for retirement 50 years in the future. 

Other van dwellers are adventurers whose passion for outdoor activities takes them to remote and sometimes primitive locations. 

However, one of the most prominent groups of vehicle dwellers are those who do so because it is the only option available for them. There is an old line that the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. Unfortunately, that saying is more accurate today than it was a few decades ago. The disparity between the rich and poor is growing. Prices for essential commodities are inflating. The cost of food, rent, gas, and medical care is rising.  

The last time the minimum wage was increased was in 2009, and it currently is only $7.25/hour. If you are working 40 hours a week and making minimum wage, your yearly income will be less than fifteen thousand dollars a year.  

Ten million people survive on Social Security Disability in the US, with the vast majority of those individuals being adults. The average monthly payment for SSD is between $800 and $1800. I worked with many patients on SSD when I was a doctor, and most of them were getting around $800/month. That is $9600/year.  

One in six US residents receive Social Security, that is about 64 million individuals. The Social Security Administration notes that Social Security is the primary source of income for most elderly. The average monthly payment for Social Security is around $1500, or approximately $18,000/year.  

Forty percent of ALL Americans are one paycheck away from poverty (Prosperity Now). These individuals cannot deal with any significant unforeseen expense. In addition, those who make the least amount of money are often the most vulnerable to losing their jobs or having their hours cut.

Some suddenly find poverty because of a late-in-life divorce. These people are often women who may have had a low-paying part-time job during their marriage and now have to live on a minimal Social Security Check.

At this point, you may be saying that there are other resources for the poor. That may be true, but as a person who has worked with hundreds of individuals with low incomes, I can tell you that the reality is that additional help is minimal. Some can get food stamps, which average a bit over $100/mo. Even fewer can get subsidized housing. For instance, the average wait time for housing via the Chicago Housing Authority is 1-5 years. In addition, if you have a history of legal issues, you may be banned from this option. Charitable programs like food pantries, shelters, and “soup kitchens” are unreliable, limited, and often only in urban settings. 

If you are fortunate to be financially solvent, it may be easy to blame the poor. You may want to scold them to “Get a better job” or “Go back and get an education.” However, in many cases, this is not practical. Those on disability can’t work a full-time job. Retired individuals on Social Security often can’t get work due to ageism, and when they find employment, the amount of income they make is low. With that said, I have known several individuals who worked a low-paying part-time job to try to make ends meet, and I can tell you that these jobs are frequently unstable.  

It is easy to tell someone to go back to school, but not everyone can do this due to time, intellectual ability, or money. The scandal of online for-profit colleges illustrated this point. Their high tuition/high acceptance rates often placed poor and struggling individuals in worse economic straights. Imagine the scenario where a poor single mother tries to improve her financial position by attending an online university. Initially, she is drawn in by the idea that she will get a better job and pull herself out of poverty. The online university “helps” her secure unforgivable student loans, and she starts her classes. However, it is tough to work a 40-hour manual labor job, take care of a child, and run a household while attending classes. In addition, her substandard high school education has not prepared her well for the rigors of college work.  

She struggles through two years of schooling before dropping out with nothing to show for her efforts but her unforgivable student loans, which could easily be $35,000 or more. This debt sets her back further as bill collectors garnish her meager salary. In addition, her damaged credit impacts many aspects of her life. It is now more challenging to buy a used car, rent an apartment, or get a better job.  

By now, everyone knows that the middle class in the US is disappearing and that the gap between the poor and the rich is multiplying. The largest income growth segment in the US is for those earning in the top 5%, while the aggregate wealth of the poor has fallen from 7% in 1983 to only 4% in 2016 (Pew Research Center).

In the town that I live in, the cost of a typical one-bedroom apartment is well over $1000, and that does not include utility costs. In addition, most landlords require a security deposit plus the last month’s rent in advance. Also, many landlords do a credit check and will reject applicants with poor credit scores.

Of course, there are places in the US where rent is lower, but there are many places where the rent is much higher than where I live. Unfortunately, most jobs are located in high-rent locations. It is nearly impossible to rent an apartment in places like New York City, Seattle, or San Francisco without a good credit score and a good income.

Beyond the cost of housing, there have also been increases in other basic living costs. Electricity costs are estimated to increase by almost 3% this year. CNBC says that utility costs, in general, will increase by 10% this summer. If you have gone to the grocery store recently, you are aware that grocery prices are up. The national average increase is 2.6%, but it is often higher than that in many regions. A March 2021 article in “Forbes” notes that gasoline prices are currently high and that they are on the rise. The internet was once a luxury, but it has become a necessity. Like other utilities, the cost of the internet is going up (“Comcast is raising rates”-ARSTechnica).  

The bottom line is that millions of individuals in the US live on extremely meager incomes, and it is nearly impossible for many of them to increase that income significantly. Additionally, millions of US citizens have no savings or emergency funds, leaving them utterly vulnerable if they have an unexpected expense or job loss. In addition, in many urban locations, it is impossible to afford housing on a low income. These factors make it extremely difficult for the poor and working poor to live an everyday life.

There have always been homeless people, and there have always been individuals who lived in their vehicles. However, with the advent of YouTube personalities like Bob Wells, there has been a greater acknowledgment that vehicle dwelling is an acceptable alternative to traditional “bricks and sticks” housing. With that said, there has also been an apparent backlash in communities that shout the mantra, “Not in my neighborhood.”  

Cooking In A Vehicle

It is imperative for both health and financial reasons to be able to prepare food when you are living in a vehicle. Most can’t afford to go to a restaurant three times a day, and even fast food drive-thrus are expensive when used regularly. 

On a recent winter camping trip my friend made us “slow cooked” stew in a Dutch Oven.

Some are happy to exist on a diet of protein bars and trail mix. Other dwellers choose only to eat raw and unprocessed foods. However, both of these groups are in the minority. Most need a way to cook food in or outside their vehicles. 

The more dedicated and permanent a kitchen space is, the easier and safer it is to use. If you cannot have a permanent kitchen space, you will need to re-create a safe area every time you cook. Don’t take shortcuts here, as to do so will result in eventual accidents or worse.

I like to think of dwelling vehicles in three general classes:

Van class.

This includes cargo vans and other larger habitats like box vans, cargo trailers, and school busses. Van class vehicles have adequate space to permanently install a kitchen, which can be configured in various ways. It is possible to create a fully functional kitchen when living in a van class vehicle.

Violet started her life as an empty van allowing me to build her out any way that I wanted.
My permanent kitchen set-up includes a sink, cooktop, microwave oven, and a 12-Volt Dometic fridge.

Minivan class.

This group includes minivans, as well as some SUVs. Minivan class kitchens can be set up similarly to van class ones, but any build will be inherently smaller and more crowded due to the vehicle’s smaller size. A typical style is to build a small kitchen at the rear of the vehicle. These “hatchback” type kitchens are designed for outdoor cooking, but they often offer some accessibility inside the van. This dual functionality is essential, as it is not always practical to cook outdoors. 

Sedan class.

Most passenger vehicles fall into this category, including sedans, hatchbacks, smaller SUVs, and compact cars. If you live in a sedan class vehicle, it is easiest and safest to cook outdoors. Some dwellers will set up an outdoor camping-style kitchen, while others will cook on a picnic table or tree stump. 

There will be times when a sedan class dweller will need to prepare food in their car. If this is an occasional occurrence, they can probably get by with no-cook options, like sandwiches. However, there are situations where it is necessary to cook in a car regularly. I have seen clever mini-kitchens built-in sedan class vehicles, but these are the exception. 

Most sedan class dwellers use the passenger seat, their bed, or the top of a cooler as their cooking zone. These options are potentially dangerous, and it is imperative to make these spaces as safe as possible. This can sometimes be accomplished using an electric cooking device, like a small rice cooker, instead of an open flame stove. However, many sedan dwellers chose to use small gas burners, like hiking-type stoves, as they are versatile and convenient. When cooking, it is essential to have a surface that is as level and fire-resistant as possible. For example, a metal cookie sheet can be placed on top of a cooler to provide fire and spill protection. It is crucial to minimize the clutter around the “kitchen.” Most sedan class dwellers will have to set up and tear down their kitchen every time they use it. There can be a tendency to become lax in this regard, but that could be a disastrous omission.

Sedan dwellers often use hiker’s stoves because they are convenient, small, and versatile. However, they are easy to tip over so great caution is advised.

Inside or outside.

The more dedicated your cooking space, the easier it is to cook inside. However, cooking outdoors can offer advantages. It is safer, as you have more space, and you are surrounded by less combustible materials. In addition, grease and smells are left in the environment, not in your home on wheels. With that said, always cooking outdoors is not practical for many. There are times when the weather is too inclement and other times when you need to be stealthy. Therefore, even if you plan on cooking outdoors, you will need some sort of backup plan to prepare meals inside your vehicle. 

Cooking outdoors can be safer and as a bonus grease and odors stay outside. I use a little butane stove for my outdoor cooking.
It is possible to easily put together a makeshift outdoor kitchen. Here I’m camping in a beautiful National Forest on a site without any amenities.

Permanent vs. temporary kitchen.

I am a strong advocate of having a permanent space for your kitchen, but this may not be possible in all situations.  

I have a permanent kitchen in my campervan, but I also carry a small countertop-style butane stove so I can cook outdoors when desired. For me, this is the best of both worlds.  

Ventilation.

People worry about carbon monoxide poisoning, but this problem can be eliminated by cracking a few windows when cooking. Open flames consume oxygen, which also warrants ventilation. 

Fire/spills.

A considerable risk when cooking in any vehicle is fire. Additional dangers include tipping over a boiling pot on yourself or melting parts of your car. You need to be extremely careful and vigilant when you cook in a vehicle. The smaller or more cluttered the space, the greater the inherent danger. Naturally, it would be best if you always had a fire extinguisher at the ready. 

What you will need.

Your cooking style will determine your needs. As a rule of thumb, the most minimal setup will require something to heat food with, something to cook food in (which also can be used to eat out of), a cup or mug, a can opener, and some simple utensils, such as a spoon, fork, and sharp knife.  

Common additions include plates and bowls, tongs, a pancake turner, a cutting board/mat, a strainer, hot pads/gloves, and possibly a small whisk. Specialty items like a corkscrew, a potato peeler, or a coffee system may be necessary for some. Others may want measuring cups, a potato masher, or a food thermometer. The options are up to you. I have items that I use all of the time (a pancake turner), and I have other things that I use very rarely (a potato peeler). I know that it would be sensible to dump the potato peeler, but I’m not ready to do so.

Making pour over coffee in Violet the van.

Some dwellers get by using a deep-sided fry pan to cook everything; others equip with both a saucepan (1-1 ½ quart is a good size) and a frying pan (8’-10″ is useful). Still, others have more elaborate cook kits that include several pots/pans and a kettle. If space is very tight, you may want to use a nested camping cookware system. However, I would avoid buying a cheap Boy Scout-style mess kit, as they are too small, too thin, and generally burn food. 

If space is very tight you may want to use a nested cook set. Some are reasonably priced while still offering acceptable quality.

Most vehicle dwellers use household pots and pans, as they are thicker and cook more evenly than camping gear. I always suggest using non-stick pots and pans when possible, as these are significantly easier to clean. Using a real plate and bowl can make van life seem more normal. Having service for one is OK, but service for two allows you to dine with a guest or use the extra items when preparing food. 

You can often stock your van-life kitchen using existing items from your kitchen. These are from my sticks and bricks kitchen where I mostly use stainless steel and cast iron cooking vessels.
When traveling in Violet I prefer to use non-stick pots and pans as they are much easier to clean.

Pro Tip:

I know that I just extolled the virtues of using a real plate and bowl, but I often find it more convenient to use paper ones when I’m vandwelling.

Storage and supplies.

It is a good idea to keep all of your cooking tools in bins for easy access. Likewise, most people keep their shelf-stable foods in one spot. Don’t forget that you will need some basic seasonings like salt and pepper. Many vehicle dwellers add a few more spices that fit their various tastes. Typical condiments include cinnamon, chili flakes, cumin, oregano, taco seasoning, and garlic/onion powders. Depending on the cooking you do, you may also need staple items like olive oil and flour. Grocery stores can be found everywhere, so don’t feel compelled to have a stockpiled kitchen immediately. Plastic bags from grocery purchases are perfect for your daily garbage. 

There are grocery stores everywhere, so don’t feel a need to immediately buy everything that you can think of. Remember that you will be limited by your available storage space.

Water.

The amount of water that you carry will be determined by your vehicle’s free space, as well as where you camp. Traveling in a van allows you to carry quite a bit of water while living in a car limits your quantities. Some folks camp in urban settings where it is easy to replenish their water supplies; others reside on remote BML sites and need to have enough water on hand for a week or more. Water can be carried in any food-safe waterproof container. Some use dedicated camping-style jugs, while others use gallon water containers from the grocer.

Some van dwellers use camping-style water containers. Water weighs 8 pounds a gallon, so buy a size that you can carry.
Some van dwellers store their water in gallon grocery store jugs.

Food.

Most vehicle dwellers purchase and eat regular food, as dehydrated hiker’s meals are both expensive and (with repetition) bland. The choices are endless and determined by your eating preference, storage space, and ability to keep your food cold. There are many single-serving type foods at the grocer. Some popular items include Knorr Sides, Idahoan instant potatoes, tuna packets, and much more. Canned items like soups require no refrigeration, and hearty bread, like bagels, are crush-proof and stay fresh for a long time. I like to have a jar of peanut butter on hand, and I usually pack some quick-cooking pasta and oats. Since I have refrigeration, I usually have eggs, milk, cheese, butter, and yogurt on hand.

There are many already cooked shelf-stable foods. You can further “doctor” them up by adding canned tuna and other things to make a one-pot meal.
Since I have a refrigerator I can carry perishable foods like milk and bacon.

Where to buy groceries.

This may be an obvious section. Many van dwellers choose stores like Walmart, Aldi, and dollar stores as they offer the best bang for the buck. Some dwellers know when certain items get reduced, and that is when they shop. Remember, your storage space is limited, so you will need to buy food in amounts and sizes appropriate to that limitation. This may not always be the most cost-effective option.

It is a good idea to keep all of your shelf-stable foods in the same place. For some, a Rubbermaid-type bin works. I like using these baskets which are easily accessible when I cook.

Cooling and refrigeration.

I grabbed these foods from my pantry to illustrate that there are many foods that don’t require refrigeration.

It is perfectly possible to live full time in a vehicle and not have refrigeration. Many fresh fruits and vegetables don’t need refrigeration, and there are dehydrated, canned, boxed, and pouched items that are shelf-stable. In addition, it is wholly possible to buy something perishable as long as you consume it within a reasonable amount of time. However, having a way to keep things cold can be a game-changer and morale booster. Here are some excellent and not-so-good options. 

Thermoelectric coolers.

These gadgets are relatively inexpensive and can cool and warm. Some truckers use them in their air-conditioned cabs. A thermoelectric cooler can cool to around 30F below the ambient temperature. If the temperature is 65F, the cooler will be at 35F. However, if the ambient temperature is at 80F, the lowest possible temperature of the cooler will be at an unsafe 50F. In addition, thermoelectric coolers are not very energy efficient. Most vehicle dwellers who try these devices quickly abandon them.

Thermoelectric coolers may seem like a good idea, but most van dwellers find they useless.

Standard ice chest.

These insulated boxes come in a variety of sizes and price points. You can buy a basic one for around $20 or spend over ten times that amount on a fancy Yeti cooler. In reviews the Yeti cooler often gets high marks for its ability to keep ice longer. I own one, and I would say that it is better than a cheap cooler, but certainly not ten times better. I don’t think that they are worth the money, and I would not recommend buying one. If you want a high-end cooler, consider one of the many Yeti copycats, as they often sell for 1/3rd the price of a Yeti.  

Many who use a cooler quickly get tired of the expense and inconvenience of buying ice. However, a cooler can still function as a place to keep fragile foods fresh a bit longer. You can keep an ice-free cooler in a shaded part of your vehicle and further insulate it by packing your pillows and blankets around it. Delicate items, like bag salad, will stay fresher longer when stored this way. 

Coolers come in all sizes and price points. You can turn your cheap cooler into a Yeti-like one by wrapping it in polystyrene insulating boards from the hardware store. Don’t want to do that? Just cover the cooler with your bedding. Blankets keep you warm and your cooler cold.

Chest-style 12-volt compressor refrigerators.

Companies like Dometic have been making these fridges for years. They work great, and they are very power efficient. Unfortunately, they are also costly to buy, which places them out of reach for many. Luckily, there are now a variety of no-name Chinese 12-volt fridges available on places like Amazon. These units work well, but their reliability is unknown. You can buy one in a reasonable $200-400 range, making them somewhat affordable.

Dometic 12-volt compressor fridges are reliable and energy efficient. However, they are expensive.
You can buy this small Alpicool fridge for less than $200 on Amazon.

To operate a refrigerator, you will need some sort of house battery and a way to recharge that battery. There are many videos and blog posts on this topic. Every situation is different, so please take the following recommendation with a grain of salt. In general, you will need a house battery of around 100 Ah that is correctly connected to a solar panel that is at least 100 watts. Bob Wells says that 100 watts of solar is the minimum, 200 watts is ideal, and 300 watts is an abundance. I have 400 watts of solar on my van’s roof, and I have never had a lack of power. 

Many vehicle dwellers have house battery systems to operate things like a fridge, a vent fan, and interior lights. Some build their systems, which can be more economical. Others use premade “Solar Generators.” These are boxes containing rechargeable batteries, a solar charge controller (which allows the batteries to be charged by solar panels), a DC to AC inverter, and 120v, 12v, and 5.5v (USB) outlets. Solar Generators come with an adapter, so you can also recharge the generator via regular mains power when available. Some will also slowly charge through the car’s cigarette lighter. Solar panels are not included and are an additional cost. Some panels are mountable on your vehicle’s roof; others fold up suitcase fashion and can be taken out of the car and placed in the sun when needed. 

Solar Generators come in all sizes. This one packs a full 2KW of battery power.

If you want to recharge your Solar Generator in the wild you will need solar panels. These panels from Renogy mount on your vehicle’s roof.
If you don’t want to drill holes in your roof you can use panels that fold up and store in your vehicle. Take them out when you need to charge your Solar Generator.

Ways to cook.

There are many ways to heat your food. I will list them by category.

Parlor trick cooking.

There are magazine articles that extol the virtue of cooking food on the car’s engine block. The instructions usually read like this: “Wrap chicken in heavy-duty foil and heat for 250 miles.” This is not a practical way to cook, and I can’t imagine eating something cooked in this fashion.

Open flame devices.

There are many ways to cook via an open flame.  

Camping stoves.

The standard two-burner camp stove is a popular choice among van dwellers, as are single burner propane units. Both of these types of stoves use green 1 lb bottles of propane which are readily available. Propane tends to vaporize better in colder temperatures compared to butane, which may be necessary for some. In addition, it is possible to buy a hose adapter to connect your stove to a larger, refillable propane bottle (like the ones BBQ grills use). Using propane via one of these larger bottles is very economical.  

A classic two burner camping stove can be your van dwelling cooker.
Some van dwellers like the stability of this Coleman single burner propane stove.
Single burner stoves like this one are inherently unstable due to their height to width ratio. Yet, some van dwellers like them.

Tabletop butane stoves.

These units have become very popular among vehicle dwellers because they are compact, have a stable base, and are very easy to set up. They are powered by butane which comes in an aerosol container that resembles a hairspray can. These units have excellent flame control, which allows for precision cooking. They are also inexpensive to buy. The downsides are that butane canisters are harder to find than propane ones (although that is changing), and butane canisters may be a bit more expensive to buy. Also, butane does not vaporize well in freezing temperatures. 

It is possible to buy dual fuel stoves that can use butane or propane. Thereby having the best of both worlds. 

When I have used a butane stove exclusively for all of my cooking needs, an 8 oz can of butane was enough for a 10-day solo adventure. I was only making simple foods like grilled cheese sandwiches and bacon and eggs during that time.

Butane stoves are very popular among van dwellers due to their ease of set-up and use.

Backpacking type stoves.

These little stoves use small cans of iso-butane or a butane/propane mixture. They are designed for hikers, so their size is at a minimum. Many of them regulate their flames poorly. They are either off or running at full blast. They are especially good at heating water for dehydrated foods, but many hikers have figured out ways to cook full meals on them (check YouTube). Some stoves only cost a few dollars; others can cost over $100. The Jetboil system is a backpacking stove that is designed to boil water very quickly. Some vehicle dwellers keep one of these around for the sole purpose of rapidly boiling water for their morning coffee. 

The Jetboil system boils water very quickly.

When assembled, backpacking stoves are taller than they are wide, making them more likely to tip. In addition, their pot support is weak, making it easier for a pot to fall over. Yet, these units are popular among sedan dwellers as they are small and compact.

Before I completely built out my kitchen I used a little backpacking stove and a nested cook set from Stanley.

Gel fuel stoves.

You can buy little stoves that burn gel fuels, like Sterno. They are slow to heat, but they do work. However, Sterno has gotten expensive, and there are better choices for van dwelling.

Some like gel fuel stoves, but there are better alternatives.

Spirit-type stoves.

These simple stoves use denatured alcohol or other spirits as their fuel. Hikers like them because they are tiny and lightweight. They work in colder temperatures, and it may be easier to find fuel as they can run on a variety of “spirits.” They cook more slowly than canister stoves. The combination of an open flame and a liquid fuel makes their use in a vehicle risky. Also, burning some types of fuel can be toxic, so superior ventilation is a must. If you are insistent on using one of these stoves, I would suggest a Trangia model 25 or 27, as they have a stable enclosed base.  

Backpackers like alcohol stoves because they are very small and lightweight. However, the combination of an open flame and liquid fuel makes them undesirable for van life.
If you insist on using an alcohol stove choose one of the Trangia models with a broad base as they are more stable and the open flame is somewhat contained.

Other stove types.

There are a few other stoves that campers use, but I would not recommend them for vehicle dwellers. Some stoves burn little fuel tablets, and others burn twigs. Both of these options are better for outdoor cooking and are not suitable for in-vehicle meal preparation. 

Wood burning stoves have no place in a vehicle.

Lastly, some van class dwellers have installed little wood stoves in their vehicles to provide both heat and a cooking surface. Naturally, you have to vent these stoves via an actual chimney on your roof. To use safely you would have to be highly conscientious. I would not recommend using one of these unless you were very skilled and knowledgeable in their use.  

Cooking with electricity.

Yes, it is possible to cook with electricity, but to do so successfully you have to understand a little science. I promise that I’ll make this section understandable, so please don’t skip it as it is crucial.

There are two different systems that you can use when cooking with electricity in a vehicle. You can use a 12-volt DC system or use a 120-volt AC system-which is similar to the power system you use in your home. Cooking with electricity can be safer than cooking with an open flame. There is no carbon monoxide produced, and there is no open flame fire hazard. Cooking with electricity is even more appealing in tight/makeshift cooking situations, such as cooking in a sedan class dwelling. 

12-volt cooking systems

If you go to any truck stop, you will find a section in the store that sells 12-volt cooking appliances. These devices are varied and can range from 12-volt slow cookers to 12-volt mini frying pans. One popular appliance is the RoadPro lunchbox (144 watts). This lunchbox-style cooker is capable of reaching 300F, which allows not only cooking but also a little bit of browning/crisping. Another popular 12-volt appliance is the RoadPro 12-volt hot water kettle (100 watts). The kettle heats 20 oz of water very slowly to a boil (20-60 minutes). Since hot water is used to cook and rehydrate many foods, these kettles have some utility.  

The RoadPro lunchbox can reach a temperature of 300F.
Some dwellers like to use 12-Volt kettles like this one from RoadPro. However, they heat water very slowly.
Experiment: Can I successfully cook raw chicken using a 12 volt house battery? Answer: Yes!

In general, 12-volt cooking appliances are small in capacity, slow to heat, relatively cheaply made, and have no adjustable temperature regulation. With that said, some of them, like the RoadPro lunchbox, have a devoted following, and the many types of foods that you can cook in the lunchbox are amazing. Cook times range from one to several hours.

12-Volt appliances are usually, small, heat slowly, and don’t have the ability to adjust the heat.

12-volt cooking devices plug into the vehicle’s cigarette lighter, and because of this, they are limited to the number of watts that they can draw. Cars with a 10 amp cigarette lighter fuse can supply 120 watts, and vehicles that use a 15 amp fuse can provide 180 watts. As a comparison, many home small electric appliances use between 600-1800 watts of power. 

These devices can drain your battery, and so they should only be used with the car running. It makes little sense to idle your car for two hours, so they are best used when driving from point A to point B. This is why they are popular with truckers who are always on the road.

Another gadget that many find useful is the Hot Logic Mini, which is a collapsable slow cooker. The Hot Logic comes in both a 120-volt and 12-volt version. It only draws 45 watts, but still, it should be used with the engine running. Like other low-wattage appliances, cook times run between one and several hours. The Mini can’t brown food, but it heats so gently that it can’t burn food. You can even cook a packaged meal directly in its cardboard box without the risk of fire. 

The Hot Logic Mini is a soft-sided slow cooker that comes in both a 12-Volt and 120-Volt version.
Here I am experimenting with a Hot Logic Mini. This little gadget works surprisingly well as a food heater and slow cooker.

You can also use 12-volt appliances with your house battery system. Most Solar Generators (battery boxes) have a 12-volt receptacle capable of powering one of these devices. You will need a moderately sized solar generator, as well as a way to recharge the solar generator’s battery (such as solar panels). 

Let’s use the Mini and a 400-watt solar generator as an example. You could cook for about 8 hours before you would completely exhaust your battery (400 watts/45 watts = 8). Naturally, you don’t want to run your battery to zero, but you certainly can run the Mini for a couple of hours without much worry. The advantage of using your Solar Generator/house battery is that you can cook without running your car’s engine.  

Pro Tip: in reality, when the car runs, the system voltage is increased to 13.6 volts (or beyond). Therefore, when a vehicle is running, a 10 amp fuse will support 136 watts, and a 15 amp fuse will support 204 watts of power draw before it blows.  

120-volt cooking systems

It is possible to use some home-type small electrics in a vehicle carefully. Let’s look at a couple of options.

Powering 120-volt appliances using the car’s 12-volt system.

You can convert 12-volt DC power into 120-volt AC power by using a device called an inverter. These devices vary in price and quality. Lower-cost units are called modified sine wave inverters. These units approximate the cyclic nature of the 120-volt AC power that you use at home. More expensive inverters are called pure sine wave inverters. These units replicate the cycling that regular AC power has.  

Modified sine wave inverters can be used for many things, and they usually work well with simple appliances (like a basic rice cooker) and gadgets. Most phone/computer chargers will tolerate power from a modified sine wave inverter. I have seen videos where a modified sine wave inverter was used to power a microwave. However, the oven was less efficient and ran hotter than if it had pure sine wave power. In addition, it took longer to heat foods. 

The more precise that an appliance is, and the more computer controls that it has, the more likely you will need a pure sine wave inverter. For example, you will likely need a pure sine wave inverter if you power a medical device, like a CPAP machine.  

DC to AC Inverters that can generate up to 400 watts of power are often supplied with a cigarette type 12-volt adapter to plug into your car. It is perfectly fine to plug them into your cigarette lighter, but you should only use them in this way if your appliance uses less than 200 watts of power. 

You can plug a smaller inverter directly into your car’s cigarette lighter receptacle. However, you need to keep your power draw under 200 watts or you will blow a fuse.

If your power requirements are more significant, you will need to connect the inverter directly to the car’s battery terminals. Larger wattage inverters won’t include a cigarette lighter plug, as it is expected that you will connect those units directly to the battery.  

When using an inverter connected to the car’s power system, it is essential to have the car’s engine running so that its alternator can replenish the power that you are removing. There are limits as to how much energy you can pull off, and it is possible to deaden your car’s battery even with the engine running if the load is too large or the run time is too great. Your car’s owner manual can give you more information on this, or you can ask your mechanic for their opinion as to your vehicle’s capacity. Also, old worn-out batteries are less tolerant of extra power loads.

When cooking using the car battery/inverter method, it is essential to use relatively low wattage appliances. One excellent choice is a basic 2-6 cup rice cooker. These units use from 200 to 400 watts of power, making it unlikely that they will deplete your battery if your engine is running. A rice cooker is an amazingly versatile device that can cook many things. It is relatively small, sits stably, and is relatively safe to use. To learn more about using a rice cooker in a car, search for the “Living In A Van” channel on YouTube.

A small rice cooker (2-6 cups cooked) is relatively energy efficient, stable, and versatile.
I just ordered this 12-Volt rice cooker for $29 on Amazon. I’m curious to see if it is a reasonable alternative to a regular rice cooker.

Powering AC appliances using a house battery system.

Many vehicle dwellers have a house battery system to power fans, a fridge, and interior lights. If the system is large enough, it can also power small appliances.  

Higher wattage home appliances can be adapted for vehicle use. However, these require a beefy solar-powered system with adequate solar panels and a powerful battery. My current system has 400 watts of solar panels. My Solar Generator has 1.7 kilowatts of lithium battery power and a 2000 watt pure sine wave inverter. With that said, careless use of my electric appliances would quickly deplete even this system. I try to cook large meals during the day (when my solar panels can charge my battery), and I tend to make quickly heated foods (like warming up soup) once the sun has gone down.  

My friend, Tom, helped me install 400 watts of solar panels on Violet’s roof.

Pro Tip: high wattage demands deplete batteries faster than the same total draw at a lower wattage.

Pro Tip: a house battery can show quite a hit when using a high wattage appliance. However, part of that loss is artificial, and some of the power will return to the battery after 15 minutes of rest. 

Here are some of the appliances that I use.

Induction Cooktop

I use an 1800 watt induction cooktop that is permanently mounted in my kitchen area. However, I never use it at a full1800 watts. I cook between 300 and 1000 watts. Additionally, my cooking times are short. I make grilled cheese sandwiches or eggs, or I’ll heat a can of soup. Induction cooktops are very efficient as most of the energy goes directly into heating the pan. They are significantly more efficient than a regular electric or gas cooktop. 

I have permanently mounted induction cooktop.

Electric pressure cooker/Instant Pot

I am experimenting with a 3-quart electric pressure cooker. This unit uses 600 watts when pressurizing and much less energy when cooking (as the pressure has already been achieved). I recently made pork chops and sauerkraut in the cooker. I had to saute bacon and onions, brown four pork chops, and then the cooker had to take an enormous volume of food and bring it to pressure, after which it cooked for 14 minutes. The total operating time was almost an hour, and I used less than 22% of my battery power. I made the dinner for my family, but it would have lasted for four full meals if I were the only one eating. Using an electric pressure cooker is surprisingly efficient!

Cooking with a small electric pressure cooker has proven to be surprisingly efficient.
I cooked (actually overcooked) stuffed peppers in an electric pressure cooker and it only used 14% of my battery capacity. I made the peppers for my family, but if I was solo and on the road, I would have enough food for three full meals.

Microwave oven

I have a small 600-watt (output power) microwave oven that uses about 950 watts of input power. Lower wattage microwave ovens not only heat slower, but their energy conversion is less efficient than larger units. However, using a larger microwave would be impractical for several reasons in my small van. Even this inefficient microwave is pretty efficient, as I only use it for minutes a day to heat or reheat things. If I use it for 10 minutes a day, I am only consuming 158 watts of my house battery power (950watts/60 min x 10 min = 158 watts). 

I use have a small microwave in Violet that is similar to this one. It uses 950 watts of input power to provide 600 watts of cooking power.

Although I don’t use them, it would be possible to run other small electrics with my system. However, I would always have to be cognizant of the amount of power that I’m using. Running any battery down to zero can shorten its life. In addition, I need to reserve battery power for other things like running my 12-volt fridge and fan, as well as charging my iPad and iPhone.

Some other small electrics that I could run on my house system would include a small electric coffee pot (550 watts), a basic 2-6 cup rice cooker (200-400 watts), and even a bullet-style blender (250 watts). It is not practical to use high wattage/long cook time items, like an air fryer, unless you have an enormously large house battery system.  

If it is important, you can even have smoothies when living in a van. Bullet type blenders are fairly energy efficient.

It is all about the number of watts needed to operate the appliance and the time required to cook your food. All appliances will list the maximum wattage that they use on the back or bottom of their cases.

Let’s say you use a 100-watt appliance for an hour. You will have (roughly) used 100 watts of your house battery’s power. If you only cook something for half an hour in that appliance, then that same appliance will have consumed only 50 watts of your battery power. Naturally, these numbers are estimated as the conversion from your battery’s 12-volt DC system to 120-volt AC also requires some energy. However, using the above simple method will give you a rough idea of what you can use with your house system.  

Pro Tip: Many modern appliances have computer boards and digital displays that use power even when the appliance is off. When possible, I use appliances with manual controls or unplug those with computerized controls when not in use. 

Bonus Tip One.

It is possible to bake things when you live in a vehicle.  

Naturally, you can use a Dutch Oven placed in a campfire’s coals, and many videos show you the proper ways to do this.

Some use their RoadPro lunchbox for baking, as it reaches 300F. You can find examples of people making biscuits, cookies, pizza, and cornbread in their RoadPro on YouTube.

You can also use the Dutch Oven method on a camp stove. When using this method, choose a deep pot with a lid. Isolate the bottom of your baking pan from the pot’s base by using a heat-proof trivet. Some cooks add a layer of clean sand or rocks in the bottom of the pan to even out the pot’s temperature. However, caution is advised as some rocks will explode when heated (they contain moisture), and some sand contains contaminants. 

I have successfully used two different devices to bake with in my van. A Coleman collapsible oven and an Omnia stove-top oven. Both worked well. My van baking adventures were mainly for fun; I usually buy already baked items when traveling.

A Coleman oven sits on your burner and acts like a regular oven. They fold flat for storage. I keep a little pizza stone in mine to even out the oven’s temperature.
My 20-year-old Coleman oven seated on my camp stove. Here I am running a baking experiment in my regular kitchen.
The Omnia oven is a well-built, but somewhat pricey oven. It heats by sitting on your camp stove burner.

Bonus Tip Two.

It is possible to wash dishes without water. When living in-vehicle, water becomes a precious commodity. I use a modified method that Bob Wells and others have promoted. First, I prefer to use non-stick pots and pans as they are much easier to clean. While the pans are still warm, I wipe them out with a paper towel. I scrape off any burnt-on food with a nylon food scraper. When I have removed as much gunk as possible, I spray the pans with 100% white vinegar and then wipe the vinegar off with another paper towel. This method works very well. Also, I tend to use paper plates and bowls when possible as this cuts down on the amount of washing that I have to do.

You can safely clean your dishes without water. I use paper towels, a nylon scraper, and a spray bottle filled with white vinegar with surprising success.

Bonus Tip Three.

One way to conserve cooking fuel is to use the cozy method. This is useful for many foods that require water to rehydrate them. One example is Knorr Pasta Sides. Usually, you bring the packet’s contents and water to a boil, and then you simmer the mixture for around 7 minutes. Instead, you can bring the contents to a boil and then place the cooking pot in a cozy (insulated sleeve) to let the residual heat cook the food. Typically, you would increase the cooking time when using a cozy. If the instructions said to simmer for 7 minutes, I would leave it in the cozy for 10-15 minutes. You will need to do some experimenting to find the right time for your particular food. I made a cozy out of Reflectix and duct tape for a small camping pot that I have. It works great and cost almost nothing to make.  

Before I had a permanent kitchen I used a nested camp-style cook set from Stanley.
I made a cozy for my Stanley pot using Reflectix and duct tape. It cost almost nothing and works great.

When I’m hiking, I like to make dehydrated meals that I portion out into Ziploc-style freezer bags. When it is time to eat, I boil water and pour it directly into the freezer bag, placed in an envelope-style cozy. After a stir, I let the mixture sit for about 10 minutes, and it is ready to eat. This not only saves fuel it also eliminates the need to clean up a dirty pot. I only use freezer bags as regular Ziploc bags can melt.  

If you are a part-time van dweller you can use your home base to make homemade Mountain House-style meals. I also use a dehydrator to make shelf-stable foods that range from vegetables to spaghetti sauce.

I use an inexpensive dehydrator to make shelf-stable foods that range from vegetables to spaghetti sauce.

Bonus Tip Four.

You can break the rules when making a packaged food. Let’s say the box says to add a tablespoon of butter. You can omit the butter and the food will still be edible. If you want to add some fat for flavor you can substitute a little shelf-stable cooking oil. Likewise, you can substitute water or water/powdered milk in instructions that call for milk. When making substitutions expect that the resulting product may not be quite as delicious as when made properly, but you can still eat it. Substituting is a great option when you are dwelling without refrigeration.

Conclusion.

I hope the above article illustrates that there are many ways to cook in your vehicle. It can be risky to cook in a confined space; the smaller the area, the greater the danger. You can minimize risks by using common sense. Set up a permanent kitchen or always create a temporary “kitchen” that is as fire-resistant as possible. Cook on a stable/level surface. Cooking with an open flame is possible but adds some additional danger. Ensure that you provide some ventilation when cooking with an open flame and keep a fire extinguisher handy. Cracking a window or two is usually sufficient when cooking. Avoid cooking with liquid fuels like alcohol unless you have a reliable, stable system (like a marine stove). 

Cooking in a vehicle requires your complete attention. Don’t surf on your phone or do other distracting activities while cooking. When possible, cook outdoors as it is more pleasant to do so and safer. Your cooking area should be as clutter-free as possible; crowded spaces increase the chance of you knocking over things, including your cook system.

Cooking your meals expands your menu exponentially. There is a multitude of foods that can be inexpensively purchased and quickly made. It is wholly possible to have a varied and healthy meal plan even if you don’t have refrigeration. However, the addition of a 12-volt fridge can expand your culinary horizons to a level similar to those that you would have in a sticks and bricks dwelling. 

Since I am a temporary van dweller, I tend to cook quick, simple foods. Grilled cheese, canned soup/stews, noodles, pancakes, bacon and eggs, and the like. However, permanent vehicle dwellers regularly make homemade stews, curries, and other more complicated meals. It is surprising to me to see how creative some cooks are. Individuals can make very elaborate meals using the simplest cooking systems. For real inspiration, search for “Backpacking Meals” or “Canteen Cup Tuesday” on YouTube.  

If you are just starting in van life, try to use cooking tools that you already own. A small pot or pan from your kitchen will likely work better than an expensive titanium hiker’s pot. Also, a $20 butane stove will be more versatile than a $100 tiny backpacker’s system. You can easily add to or modify your kitchen as your needs change.

I would also suggest that you start your van cooking life by preparing uncomplicated foods. I find it easier to use premade items, like Knorr Pasta Sides, rather than creating elaborate sauces from scratch. In addition, par-cooked foods like Minute Rice rehydrate quickly and save you both time and fuel.

Using precooked or par-cooked ingredients can save time and fuel.

When I cook a more complicated meal, like a homemade soup, I like to make it in quantity to benefit from the fruits of my labor over several meals. I also try to minimize clean-up by washing items as I cook, using non-stick cookware, and dining on paper plates. You may choose to forego paper plates due to environmental reasons, but I find them a necessity. 

Happy cooking

Mike

Urban Stealth Camping, Conservation And Realities

When I build-out Violet the campervan, I wanted her to be as self-contained as possible. I also wanted her to be functional. However, a van has minimal space, and options, such as a real toilet, were out of the question. I envisioned my camping adventures beyond KOAs. To achieve this, I had to carefully think about what I needed and what I could live without.

This summer has offered new camping challenges for me due to the COVID 19 pandemic. I was able to “dry camp” in the Medicine Bow National Forest, and I also camped a few National Park campgrounds. As I write this post, I’m urban camping. A family member in my home had a potentially significant COVID exposure, so I’m spending the next 10 days vandwelling in the western suburbs. Being a senior citizen and male places me in a high-risk category. Getting sick with COVID is something that I want to avoid at all costs.

I’m fortunate that I have had several offers to park on other people’s properties. Some of them have included amenities such as the ability to plug into their mains power. I am incredibly appreciative of all of the kindness that I have received. Still, I want to be a good guest and not overstay my welcome or overuse other’s generosity. Because of this, I have tried to rely on living in my van as much as possible, which means that I have had to deal with limited resources. The process has highlighted how much I waste during my everyday life, and how I should be a better steward of my environment.

Violet, the campervan, was designed to be self-sufficient. On her roof are solar panels, and her electrical storage capacity is approximately 3.5 kilowatts. She can recharge my phone. She can also run a 12 volt Dometic fridge, house lights, an exhaust fan, a microwave oven, and even an induction hot plate burner.

I usually carry bottled water for drinking, but I also haul around 10 gallons of tap water. I have equipped her with a cell phone booster and a ham radio when I am camping in the boonies. I even can purify stream water, if needed.

Violet does not have have a traditional bathroom, although she does employ an emergency “bucket” system. However, bathrooms are usually plentiful, and I also have a small gardener’s spade for those times when I’m in the wilderness.

Violet has many abilities, but her resources are finite, and conservation is an absolute must. I face similar challenges when I’m camping in the wilderness and the city, but there are also significant differences. I thought I would share some of the ways I have been coping in my van while urban stealth camping.

The toilet issue

Let’s be honest, everyone wants to know how you go to the bathroom when you are living in a van. Naturally, it depends on where you are. Due to COVID safety, I can’t use the bathrooms of some friends and family members. There are indeed public bathrooms in the suburbs. Still, it can be very inconvenient to drive to a gas station or Walmart when nature calls. At this juncture, I am relying on two resources. One of my landing spots is also one of my friend, Tom’s construction sites, and this place has a Porta-Potty. One of my favorite daytime spots is a local forest preserve, which also has a Porta-Potty. I’m covered between these two places, but let’s face it, a Porta Potty is a Porta-Potty.

Keeping clean

Violet is too small for a shower, and I’m a guy that likes to stay clean. I have been able to “score” a couple of real showers, but my daily hygiene routine has had to rely on more primitive methods. Everyone knows about baby wipes, and they do work in an emergency. However, I always feel like I’m smearing around as much dirt as I’m removing when I use them. A much better method is the “bucket bath,” which involves using a bucket (duh). I’ll leave a carboy of tap water out in the sun in an ideal situation until it is nice and warm. At other times I’ll heat a small amount of “mixing” water to accomplish the same task. It is surprising how little water you need to clean yourself, and I have found that I can do a complete “bath” in 1-2 liters of the stuff. My method is simple, put about a liter of water in a bucket and add a tiny amount of Dr. Bonner’s liquid soap. I then use a sponge to thoroughly wash, focusing on cleaner areas first. I then exchange my soapy water for some clean water and rinse using the same method. The bucket method requires a little gymnastic ability, but I feel as clean as when I shower. Showers have only been around for a short time, and humans have been cleaning themselves for thousands of years.

Power

We live in a world powered by electricity. My phone and the iPad that I’m now typing on require 5 volts DC, my camper fridge and vent fan use 12 volts DC, and my microwave and induction burner use 120 volts AC. I use a Goal Zero Yeti 1250 with two additional AGM batteries for these needs. The Yeti recharges when I run my car or passively by solar panels. It is nice to have free electricity.

I currently have three hundred watts of solar panels on Violet’s roof, and I’ll be adding an additional 100 watts this fall. This may sound like a lot of power, but it still has to be carefully managed.

I’m stretching my limits by using solar-generated electricity for cooking. I do have a small butane stove. However, I think that it cool to use free electricity. My microwave and induction burner each use around 1 KW of power/hour, but I’m only using these devices for 5-15 minute in any given day.

When I’m living at home, I don’t think that much about electricity. I just assume that it will be available when I plug something in. I have become immune to my electric bills, which can run in the hundreds of dollars, but living in a van has given me a new perspective. The other day I was able to plug into a friend’s house electrical system. During that time, I made a grilled cheese sandwich on the induction burner, heated up some tomato soup in the microwave, and boiled some water for a “bucket bath.” I calculated the electricity cost that I used based on 10.7 cents per kilowatt/hour (the cost of power in their town). I used less than five cents of electricity. This gave me a new perspective on how much energy I am wasting every month at home.

Meal Preparation

You may have watched YouTube vandwellers make elaborate meals which they wash down with Vita-mix smoothies. They always seem to start their day with a cup of fresh cappuccino made with their $1000 espresso machine. That’s not me.

I think that my cooking style would be more comprehensive if I was always living on the road. However, I’m a temporary vandwellers. I am a guy who knows how to cook, and I don’t mind whipping up a meal for my family. However, when I’m in the van, I mostly don’t feel like cooking. Part of this is due to the van’s confined space, and part of it is that I’m just less interested in food. Granted, there are times when I’ll crave bacon and eggs or some good pancakes, and I’ll make an effort to cook these items. However, I’m usually more interested in quick and easy options. -Alright, I know you are thinking, “Mike, bacon, and eggs are quick and easy.” I agree with you when I’m at home, but not so much when I’m vandwelling.

The van has limited storage, and so each food purchase has to be carefully selected. I am always refining my grocery list, and it seems like I’m ever simplifying what I eat. I’m fond of scrambled eggs, microwaveable soup, grilled sandwiches, canned hash, and Belvita breakfast bars on this adventure. Since I’m “camping” in an urban setting, I’ll sometimes grab lunch from a restaurant.

I’m also in a “use it up” mode. When food shortages appeared during the pandemic, I made an effort to finish leftovers instead of eating what I had a taste for. This tendency has continued during my van experience. If I have leftovers, I eat them, and if I have groceries, I use them up before I buy more.

Washing dishes

If you cook, you will have dishes to wash. The “art” of washing dishes in a van balances convenience with conservation. Conservation is a given, as the more dishes that I make, the more things that I have to wash. When you carry less than 10 gallons of water, it is not practical to wash dishes in the traditional soapy way. I have adopted a method that has been espoused by more experienced vandwellers, the vinegar method.

I scrape away anything that I can remove from a pan or dish and wipe it out with a paper towel. I then spay ordinary white vinegar on the object (as a grease cutter) and wipe that out with another paper towel. This method works surprisingly well and doesn’t use any water. I would use something other than paper towels in a perfect world, but this is not an ideal world. However, I am very conscious of the fact that I have limited towels on hand. So I’m pretty conservative in their use. For those who are wondering, The vinegar evaporates and doesn’t leave any aftertaste.

Garbage

Creating garbage is a fact of life. In some ways, I’m probably creating a little more waste as I’m using more paper towels and some paper products. However, I’m very aware of the garbage that I am creating, and I genuinely try to limit it. It is imperative to toss your trash daily in a small space, which I do at my local forest preserve-in a dumpster, of course.

Entertainment

Urban vanlife severely limits my activities. I don’t have a house full of things to amuse me. COVID limits options even more. I have a radio, my phone, an iPad, a Kindle, and a Bluetooth speaker. That is enough electronics.

I typically spend some time with my friend, Tom, in the mornings, and then I drive to a place where I can “hang out” for the day. This is usually a local forest preserve where I write, walk, cook, and live. In some ways, vanlife is a healthy life as you want to get out of the van to do physical things.

The downside to urban camping

There is a certain unsettledness when you don’t have a permanent address. I have three sleeping spots that I had prearranged before this week of urban camping. I don’t want to draw attention to myself or overstay my welcome, so I tend to rotate from place to place. Each presents with its own challenges. One site is about 25 minutes away. Another shares its driveway with several other townhomes, and the third is an open church parking lot. I feel like I need to quietly move in and set myself up without drawing too much attention. Also, I must be stealthy during the night. Although I’m not doing anything wrong, there is a sense that I am, so my bedtimes have been a bit on the hyper-vigilant side.

Although I have found ways to cope, there is simply more stress in a situation where you are using chemical toilets, sleeping outdoors, and bathing using a bucket. Urban camping is definitely more stressful than regular camping. I imagine that I would eventually adjust to this lifestyle, but I’m not there yet.

The bottom line

Dear readers, if you have read some of my prior posts, you know that I’m all about learning from experiences. Like most experiences, I have learned from this one. One of the significant lessons that I have learned is that conservation is most effective when you have some skin in the game. I try to be respectful of my environment when I’m at home, but I still let my shower run too long, and I have a tendency to leave lights on. I have no problem running the AC, and I waste too much food.

The consequences of such behaviors are much more significant when you are living in a van. If I use too much power, I lose my refrigeration. If I waste food, I don’t have anything to eat. Cleaning myself involves energy and effort; I can’t heat gallons of water because I don’t have the electrical power to do so. Water itself is a scarce resource when living in a van. I have to make sure that I have it and think twice when I use it. I never waste water.

This urban camping experience has illustrated to me that one of the most effective ways to encourage people to live more green is to make it worth their while. My vanlife situation forces me to conserve not only because it is the right thing to do but because not doing so has a direct negative impact on my day to day existence.

I have watched countless videos about the joys of vanlife. Videos where people are perpetually happy and always experiencing a new adventure. These portrayals seem synthetic to me. I feel grateful that I have a roof over my head and food in my camper fridge. But urban vanlife is stressful. However, life is not about running away; it is about making the most of where you are.

The above realizations are not to say that I’m unhappy with Violet, the campervan. I remain ecstatic about her, and I’m entirely grateful that I have experienced our country while carrying my home.

I continue to think that life is about focusing on the positives. I believe that my cup is half-full, not half-empty.

Dear readers, let’s celebrate today and focus on the positives in our lives.

Is Dr. Mike A Simple Or Complex Guy?

For whatever reason, people like to label me. They take one of my characteristics, and they build an entire opinion of who I am and what motivates me. Perhaps this is because we live in a world of sound bites, where everything can be explained in two sentences or less.

Just like everyone, I am a complex individual and not a one-dimensional cartoon caricature. Two of my traits that seem to confuse many are my desire for both complexity and simplicity. On the surface, such characteristics are diametrically opposed, but they are entirely compatible and ego-syntonic to me. 

I have many things in common with my siblings. Still, one characteristic above all others is that we are obsessive people. Our obsessiveness exhibits itself differently, and I’m not about to take my siblings’ personal inventories. However, my obsessive personality has its roots in my genetic makeup.

I am an obsessive problem solver. I think of various scenarios, plan solutions, and then test out those solutions for potential flaws. Believe it or not, that is an enjoyable activity. My family may make fun of me for having several first aid kits or a box of spare batteries. Still, they come to me when they cut their fingers or when their battery-operated watches stop. 

This problem-solving style leads to another trait, I am a comparer. I get pleasure in understanding how similar tasks are accomplished in different ways. When I was active in psychiatry, I was fascinated by how very different psychotherapies could help patients. However, this comparing habit existed long before I had the initials M.D. behind my name.

When I was 5 years old, I collected old pencils and compared them based on their characteristics. Which one had the smoothest lead? Did the color of the eraser impact its utility? Did more costly pencils work better? (BTW, the answers to these questions are: Dixon Ticonderoga, No, and Yes). I had a pencil collection for years, and as it expanded, so did my knowledge of this obscure topic. 

In grade school, I started to collect radios, which led to listening to short-wave radios, branched off to building radios, and eventually prompted me to get an Advanced Amateur Radio license.

I have made in-depth comparisons on items ranging from bread makers to guitars. My current collection is cameras. I am fascinated by how various manufacturers approach the same fundamental issues in very different ways. I love the creative process of taking a good picture. Still, I equally enjoy learning more about camera controls, flashes, and lenses. You may read all of the above and think, “That Dr. Mike is a pretty weird guy.” I would say that you are probably right…and so what!

Being a comparer means that I have a lot of stuff, and I like having many things… but I also crave simplicity. It is a joy for me to travel in Violet, my little campervan, and live well with only those things that fit in her tiny space. But, I’m a problem solver. “What if I don’t have the right electrical adapter?” “What if my car battery goes dead in the middle of nowhere?” “How can I boost my cell phone reception?” Solutions often mean more stuff, and more stuff makes van life difficult due to space constraints. Yet, on every trip, it does seem like I use an unlikely item or two that I had previously packed away, “just in case.”  

Before most trips, I will go through Violet’s boxes and bins and remove things that appear to have little use. On my last trip, I took out 4 microwavable cereal bowls, an extra towel, and a little-used cooking pot. I left other potential candidates, like a potato peeler and an extra flashlight. Still, they could go on the chopping block on my next purge.

Before the same trip, I added some items that I thought could be useful. Why? Why not! Oh, and there is often a trip’s bonus item. A bonus item is something that I carry, although it is doubtful that I will need it. However, it turns out that I do need it, and I’m glad that I brought it. On my trip to Glacier last summer, the bonus item was a little tool kit that I kept in the camper. I dropped something behind Violet’s kitchen and had to unbolt the unit to retrieve it. This year my bonus item was my Garmin GPS.

Like many of you, I use Google and Apple Maps for direction advice. I used to be good at reading paper maps, but my smartphone has sucked that ability. I love these programs because they are updated continuously. However, they have one fatal flaw, they require an internet connection to do their thing. Both programs will retain necessary turn-by-turn information once you set your route. Still, they can’t create a new route or modify a route if you are away from a cell tower. Unfortunately, I often camp in places where I don’t have a connection to the outside world. When I was initially stocking Violet, I purchased a Garmin GPS, “just in case,” and this was the first year that I needed it to route the legs of my trip. It worked great, and I was glad to have it.  

So, what new items I brought on this trip?

Crocks

When I camp, I only bring two pairs of shoes, hikers and shower shoes. The later are those very cheap ones that have a painful peg that goes between your toes. My mother put the fear of God in me when she told me about the dangers of getting athlete’s foot in public showers. Despite knowing that the actual risk is low, I feel obligated to bring a pair along. However, this year I also brought along a pair of Crocks, and they were a fantastic addition. It was a pleasure to drive long distances wearing them, and if I had to leave the camper in the middle of the night, I didn’t have to lace-up my hikers. I will definitely bring them on my next camping trip.

My old Sony AM/FM portable radio

During the first two years of owning Violet, I packed a sizable multi-band radio. It was big and bulky and had a habit of flying off its perch when I made an aggressive turn. I have been pelted more than once by D batteries as they flew out of the radio’s innards to become instant missiles. Eventually, I got sick being beaten up by batteries, and I purged the Grundig from my camper. This trip, I packed an old analog AM/FM portable radio. Its manual mechanics are very energy efficient, and it runs forever on a few batteries. It stays in place when I drive. 

The radio turned out to be a great addition, as I didn’t have a reliable cellular connection during most of my trip. Through it, I was able to get the weather and news, plus entertainment. You may be asking, “Why not just use the van’s radio?” This could be done in a pinch, but I don’t like doing things that can potentially drain the vehicle’s battery. Besides, I could take the Sony out of the van and listen in my folding camp chair’s comfort. The radio is a keeper.

Solar Generator/folding solar panels 

I have an elaborate onboard solar set-up in Violet, making it unnecessary to bring along any additional battery banks. However, I wanted to play around with a little one that I had at home. The unit has 300 watts of power and various connections, allowing it to power 12 volt, USB, and AC devices. I also brought along a folding solar panel to see if it would be feasible to charge the little guy in the field.

I did enjoy having the battery pack, and I used it every day to charge my phone and watch. I also used it to power my Wilson (WeBoost) cell phone booster to send out text messages to my family. Best of all, I was able to quickly recharge it using the folding solar panel. This set up could be a reasonably priced solution for at-home preparedness. With it, you could recharge your phones, computers, and even power a TV. I had a lot of fun playing around with it on my camping adventure; it is not a must-pack for me.

iPad and Kindle

I brought both. I used the Kindle but never got around to using the iPad. However, I’ll likely bring them on my next trip as they take up little space. I have a keyboard for my iPad, allowing me to write if I am so moved. iPads are more energy-efficient than laptops making them good travel companions.

Induction cooktop

I’m in the process of having Violet reclassified as an RV. This will mean lower insurance and tag costs. Illinois has many requirements to change a commercial vehicle to an RV. One of them is that the vehicle has to have an onboard cooking system.  

My friend, Emma Cabusao (Dr. Emma) gave me an induction burner as a present several years ago. My other friend, Tom, used his building skills to mount it to Violet’s kitchen counter, and I connected it to my solar power system.

I’m pleased with the butane stove that I have used for several years. So I didn’t think that I would need the induction burner for cooking; I just needed to show the state’s inspector that I had an onboard cooking system. However, on my recent camping adventure, I tried it out and loved it. An induction burner uses a magnetic field to cook, and the device stays cool to the touch. Also, there is no open flame to worry about. My Goal Zero solar generator efficiently handled the hot plate’s energy requirements. Since I generate all of the van’s electricity from solar, using the burner meant that I was cooking for free! I won’t get rid of my butane stove, as I like to cook greasy, splattery stuff outside of the van. However, for everything else, I’m all in on this gadget. 

Some stuff goes out of the van, some stuff goes in. There are things that I will probably never use (like the potato peeler) and things that I wind up using even when I think I won’t (like the Garmin GPS).  


In today’s story, I’m trying to make a couple of different points. The first one is to not judge or categorize someone else based on a single observation or characteristic. We are all complex creatures. I would urge you to be tolerant of people who may not think exactly as you do. You could find that you have more in common with them than on first blush. As for me, my planning and preparing style may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it doesn’t hurt anyone, so don’t pass judgment.

The second point is that in many cases, the only way to determine if something is right for you is to try it out. Now, I’m not saying that you should go around doing dangerous or illegal stuff. However, most people regret what they didn’t do in their life more than what they did do.

Lastly, Violet, the campervan, shows me how little I need to be happy. When I’m at home, there always seems to be some item that catches my eye. Sometimes it is a “super deal” on WOOT or a “recommendation” from Amazon. I also get the urge to buy something after watching influencers on YouTube. I do enjoy these things, but in the majority of cases, I don’t need them. My tiny campervan has everything that I need to thrive. I can cook meals, listen to the news, read a book, take a bath, go to bed, and do all of those things that I would do in daily life. But I’m not doing them in a 4 bedroom, 3 bathroom house… I’m doing it in a tiny cargo van. Less can sometimes be more. Life is complicated (or is it simple?).


Update: After many months of modifying Violet to comply with Illinois’ rules to reclassify her as an RV (as opposed to being a commercial van), I had her inspected by the Illinois Secretary of State police. A friendly officer came out and asked questions, toured the van, and took a ton of photos. I’m thrilled to report that Violet passed her test and will be reclassified as an RV once I get her new paperwork. Whew!

Using an induction burner turned out to be a great idea!
My old Sony portable radio kept me in touch with the world.
I had a lot of fun using this little 300-watt solar generator. I always enjoy playing around with a new gadget.
My Garmin GPS really helped me when I couldn’t use Google Maps.

On Aloneness

I looked at the map and tried to find the most remote place on earth that seemed habitable. In my mind, that place was Baffin Island in Canada’s Northwest Territory. Vast and distant, it seemed to be the perfect spot. There I could be separated from the stress of negative interactions. I would pack all of my possessions with me. Books, electronics, scientific equipment, radios.

On Baffin Island, I would build a warm and secure cabin to protect myself from the elements. On Baffin Island, I could be myself.

Baffin Island was the mental place where I would go to as a child when I was feeling stressed or judged by the world and its people. This is where I would mentally travel when I was sick of acting a role so I could be accepted.

The power of a child’s fantasy is derived from the reality that it is not bounded by the constraints of logic. It is free-flowing with its only requirement being that it satisfies the needs of its creator, and Baffin Island was my fantasy. I knew that I was a loner, an introvert, a person who was happiest in his own thoughts. A person who was delighted to be left alone.

________________________

The preparations started months earlier, although I wasn’t sure what I was preparing for. I wrote pages of lists, watched dozens of YouTube videos, and mentally solved thought problem. I dug through my old camping gear, I gleaned gadgets from my electronics collections, I constructed things with the expert assistance of my friend, Tom.

I have come to believe that these actions were part of a greater coping strategy to deal with my internal anxiety. This statement seems strange, as I don’t consider myself to be an anxious person. I always could restructure my cognition, and when I face a stressful situation, I call upon that fundamental skill to calm myself and move forward. Yet, all of my preparation seemed to have a psychological motivation.

I also admit that I felt guilty about my plan to leave, but logically, I knew that I was adding only a few days to an already established trip. My feelings spawned out of causal comments that Julie said to me since I retired. “Did you have fun today?” She would ask when she got home from work.

I felt guilty that I had indeed had fun. A happiness based on no longer being responsible for the lives of others. A delight based on having the ability to do as I wished for once. I felt guilty that I was enjoying my freedom when she had many years of work ahead of her. I fully acknowledge that my interpretation of her comments was filtered by my personal assumption that the sole purpose in life was to produce.

The reason for my trip to Arizona was so I could clean my daughter’s college apartment and haul back the material contents of the last 4 years of her life. This act was productive, contributing, and even laudable. However, taking a few extra days to visit National Parks along the way was not. Logic told me that my actions were completely acceptable. I claim to be driven by logic, but I am actually ruled by my feelings, and those feelings made me feel guilty.

A psychological solution to my guilt appeared in the form of focused thriftiness. I decided that I would do whatever I could to reduce the cost of the trip and that somehow this action would justify those extra self-indulgent days. I would stay at National Park campsites. I would sleep and cook in my camper van. I would resist the temptation to buy unnecessary things. The thrifty strategy subdued my guilt, but that emotion was soon substituted with another even more ridiculous concern.

By coincidence random videos appeared on my YouTube homepage, most centering around bear attacks. There were instructional videos on how to protect yourself from maniacal bears. There were videos describing tales of loss of limb and life by grizzlies. There was even a video showing a bear using its massive claws to rip through a car door as quickly as one would poke a hole into a taut sheet of aluminum foil.

After watching a number of these videos, I told myself that enough was enough. I reminded myself that millions of people visit National Parks in any given year, and actual bear aggressions impacts a tiny percentage of those patrons. However, just to be on the safe side, I bought a canister of bear repellent and vowed to not smell like bacon when I was in bear country.

My trip preparation continued in earnest. I scoured the pantry for suitable camper food, and I made purchases of Knorr Sides and Spam Singles at the local market. I gathered my photography equipment. I filled my packing cubes with clothing. I put new batteries in my flashlight. There was nothing else that I could do, yet I continued to feel unsettled, and I didn’t understand why.

On the day of my departure, I found myself stalling to leave. Eventually, I pulled myself into my campervan’s cabin, buckled my seatbelt, and turned on the ignition. My solo trip was about to begin.

One mile became ten, ten became one hundred. I dug into my car food bag and munch on chips, mixed nuts, and Smart Pop popcorn. I calmed, but I still couldn’t understand what was really troubling me.

I traveled in external silence, thinking. I thought about making a helpful YouTube video for van dwellers. I plotted out the destinations of my trip. I remembered the contents of my cargo bins. And so it went.

My friend, Tom, would call to check on me, and I was happy about that. I would call Julie, and I was grateful that she seemed glad to talk to me, as I know she dislikes taking on the phone.

A conversation with one of my sisters here, a text message from one of my kids there, an encouraging Facebook comment or two. I was clearly looking forward to these interactions, and I was surprised how critical these touchpoints were for a loner like me.

I have never wanted masses of friends. I have never wanted to be popular. Such scenarios seem more exhausting than exhilarating. However, I cherish a small group of people. Those individuals represent my “Priorities,” and I will do whatever I can to make sure that I am there for them. However, traveling alone illustrated a second purpose to these relationships. Traveling alone had shown how imperative it is for me to be cared about by those who I care for. Traveling alone focused me on the reality that I need people in my life, and that it was the thought of separation from them that was the cause of all of my pre-trip anxiety. I find it curious that it is so easy for me to love, yet so difficult to imagine that others love me.

I don’t want to be cared for because of what I can do for someone, I have spent my life doing that. I don’t want to be included in a social circle only because I am entertaining, funny, or a good listener. Instead, I want to be loved and accepted for who I am. I want to be missed when I’m not around, and I want to be the source of excitement when I return on the scene.

During much of my life, I gained the acceptance of others by being whoever that person wanted me to be. Now, I want someone to see my soul and feel that I am good enough.

It brings me joy to comprehend that those people who I love also love me. As I write this, I am astonished by this realization, and eminently thankful for it.

On one phone call during my trip, Julie asked me if I was having a good time, and I told her, “Yes.” There are many positives when traveling solo. I set my own schedule and spend as much or as little time as I wish to do an activity. I can stay up as late as I choose, or go to bed as soon as I desire. These are wonderful things.

However, I did miss the lack of a traveling companion to share the wonders that I saw. Someone to be mutually amazed at the magnitude of the Great Sand Dunes, or to collectively wonder about the lives of the ancient Pueblo. I wanted to share a new sight, or a sunset, or conversation around a morning cup of coffee with someone that I care about. All of those activities seem sweeter when done with someone who you love.

This great adventure was an exercise in aloneness and was a success, but not the success that I initially imagined. Yes, I am perfectly competent by myself, but this trip illustrated to me how much I need others in my life, not to do for me, but to care for me. I am an introvert, but I’m not a loner.

As a child, I wanted to live on an island in isolation. As an adult, I realize the I am not an island unto myself. I still have much to learn about myself. Life lessons are everywhere. All I need to do is to stop and listen.

Hiking up one of the Great Sand Dunes.
Exploring a Pueblo Cliff Dwelling.
Hiking up a mountain.
Lake Apache.
Violet, my campervan.

Camping On New Year’s Eve In A Winter Storm-Crazy!

“Do you want to do it?” I thought for a minute and said, “Yeah, I think so. You only live once, right?”

My campervan was mostly complete, and I had already had taken it to Colorado and Missouri on separate trips, but those trips were during warmer weather.

Tom’s son wanted to go camping sometime in January, and Tom was inviting me along. This would be more of an experience than an actual trip, and we would be spending only one night in the cold. The destination, Devil’s Lake, Wisconsin. Tom has a fondness for Devil’s Lake, it is a beautiful park; its centerpiece being the lake which is surrounded by high bluffs.

After Christmas Tom told me that he decided to go up on New Year’s Eve. I had a concern about this date as I thought that many services could be closed, but it sounded exciting and fun. Besides, we had unseasonably mild weather, so how bad could it be?

The other concern was my homefront. I knew that Julie wouldn’t mind me going on a camping trip, but on this one, I would be away from her on holiday. With that said, I’m usually in bed by 11 PM on New Year’s Eve. I’m hardly a party animal. I asked for her thoughts she said she didn’t mind it if I went.

My friend Tom had to work the morning of the trip, and he suggested that I go up early to secure a campsite. Tom imagined a party like atmosphere with the campground filled to the brim with happy campers excited to bring in the new year, and he wanted to make sure that we had a spot. Only one of the park’s multiple campgrounds is open year round, and that one didn’t take reservations.

Traveling the 3 hours to Baraboo WI solo was not an option for me. In the summer of 2017, we traveled separately to the same campground. I got turned around and wound up at a different site at the opposite end of the park. T-mobile cellular service at Devil’s Lake was almost non-existent, and it was nearly impossible for me to reach Tom. He had arrived hours earlier with both his son and my son. Eventually, we connected which is when I found out that all of the campgrounds were full. Exhausted from a full day of work and a drive to Wisconsin, I loaded William into my car and drove 3 hours home. It was not a warm and fuzzy memory.

I still have some finishing touches to do on my campervan, but it is functional. However, I had removed most of its storage boxes, as we were in the process of building out a large container that would reside under the camper’s platform bed. I debated if I wanted to return the contents to the camper. After all, I was only going for a day. At the last minute, I tossed the bins into the van. “Better safe than sorry,” I thought.

We left together, me in my campervan and Tom and his son in his 4×4 Dodge Ram dually. It was around 35 F, and it was lightly raining. We started our drive north, and the rain got progressively worse. I kept looking at the outside temperature readings on my Promaster’s dash. Thirty-five degrees, then 34F, then 33F, then the dreaded 32F. Thirty-two degrees, the point where rain turns to sleet. Thirty-two degrees, when the wet pavement turns to black ice. Initially, the van seemed to handle the change in conditions, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

We turned off the Interstate and onto a county road. Google maps said we had about 26 miles to go until we reached the park. By that time the sleet had turned to snow, and it was coming down hard. We were on a 4 lane road (two lanes per direction) that was winding up a hill. I could see that Tom was having a bit of trouble as the back of his truck was wiggling. I could feel that my traction was also slipping. There was no option, so we moved on.

As we turned a curve, the traffic suddenly slowed down to a near stop. In the middle of the right lane was a sedan with its flashers on. I thought that the owner was having car trouble, but I wondered why he had foolishly stopped directly in the middle of the right lane. I drove a little further and saw another car in the right lane, its flashers blinking. Then another, and another. The higher I drove up the hill, the more cars I saw parked in the right lane. I could see Tom’s truck ahead. He was moving forward, but his Ram has 6 tires of traction. The sedan in front of me was lurching forward, sometimes sliding sideways, sometimes almost stalling. I could feel my traction failing, and I started to panic as I imagined having to spend the night in my van as it sat directly in the line of traffic. By some miracle, I made it up the hill, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

The road narrowed to a single lane, and the snow continued to fall. It became impossible to determine if I was in the correct lane. I made a conscious effort to stay in the tire tracks that Tom’s truck made, using his four rear tires as my personal snow plow. I was in the middle of nowhere, it was getting dark, my van was struggling, I was feeling sick to my stomach. My doctor’s training has made me good at handling crises, but I was still feeling the stress. I willed myself to move forward.

Tom pulled into the broad entrance to Devil’s Lake State Park, and I followed. The road past the entrance went down at a steep angle and instinct told me that I should stay put. I told Tom that I was not going down. He felt that his 4 wheel drive could do the job and said that he would make the loop drive to explore the park and then come back to pick me up. He gave me an alternative route to the campground, just in case. Time ticked on, and I thought about the possibility of staying put at the entrance for the night. That option would certainly be better than getting stuck in the middle of a road.

Tom returned and said that my van would not have made it down and back. We took the alternate route to the campground. We traveled another quarter mile and took a right turn on an unplowed road with a slight incline. I could see that Tom traction was struggling again and I could feel my van straining. The only way I was able to move forward was by running my engine at 30 miles per hour. This constant acceleration moved the van at a jerking 5 miles per hour. I prayed that I wouldn’t have to stop as I knew that I would not be able to move forward again.

Although we only traveled a few blocks on that road, it seemed like miles. I’m glad that Tom was so familiar with the park, as I would never have seen the entrance to the campground. He pulled in, and I followed. The campground was completely empty, and its roads were unplowed and deep in snow. I thought, “Find a spot close to the entrance,” but he continued to drive as if he was looking for the perfect campsite. He eventually stopped, and so did I. When I tried to move forward again it was clear that I was stuck. Stuck in the middle of the road in an empty campground, and it was definitely getting darker.

I signaled Tom, and he said that he would loop around the campground and come up on my rear. I wasn’t sure what his plan was, but I was grateful that I wasn’t alone. He got back into his pickup and drove out-of-sight. My mind moved into solution mode, and various ideas and contingency plans flooded me in multiple data stream. I wondered if I could rock myself back then forward. I tried to back up, and surprisingly I was able to do this. However, I could not move an inch forward, as the road ahead was on an incline.

I got out of the van and scanned my surroundings. Despite the heavy snow, I could see the boundaries of level places, which were intended for the camper’s cars. I made some quick calculations and came up with a crazy plan to back up my van several hundred yards in reverse and then turn into one of the almost invisible parking slots. If successful I could take that move into a three-point-turn and point my van in the opposite (and downward) direction towards the campground’s entrance. I felt that I had nothing to lose.

I could feel my tires slipping as I started the backup, but I continued. I made another mental calculation and decided that I should be close to a flat spot and quickly turned my wheel to the right as I wanted to keep my momentum. The van tracked into a parking spot, and I had a sigh of relief. After a 10 second pause to catch my anxious breath I shifted the gear selector into drive and gently pressed on the accelerator. The van moved forward!

I was now going downhill and towards the entrance to the park. Tom was nowhere in sight. I could finally see the entrance, and then I saw Tom. He had been delayed because he got stuck and almost slid into a tree.

We were committed to camp, and frankly, we had no other options. Tom pulled into a spot, and I asked him if he would park my van next to his truck. I was exhausted and didn’t need any more challenges.

Tom had brought a wheelbarrow of firewood in the bed of his pickup, and he set about the task of starting a fire with a Bernzomatic torch. While he was doing this, I spotted the sites power pole and wondered aloud if the juice was still on. “They use GFI outlets, why don’t you check,” Tom said. I walked over and lifted the heavy metal shroud that covered the outlets. A tiny green LED blinked back at me. Being a good Eastern European type I had brought enough food for at least two days, now we also had power. I was jubilant. I opened the back of the Promaster and started to search the storage boxes that I had tossed in as an afterthought. Yes, here was the 30 Amp power cord, and there was the 30 Amp extension cord. In another box, I found the $18 little black electric heater that I bought at Walmart months earlier. I called Tom’s son to be my gopher, and in about 5 minutes I had AC power in my camper. I plugged in the little heater and turned it on. The temperature was quickly dropping outside, and I wanted to capture every BTU that I could.

Tom was busy setting up a tripod stand to hold the cast iron Dutch oven that he brought. In it, he had chunks of steak, onions, carrots, potatoes, and cabbage. The fire was now blazing, and he was adjusting a chain that was supporting the Dutch oven. Lower into the flame for hotter, higher away from the flame for colder.

We had food, electricity, some heat, and a fire. I was content and my panic from earlier in the day had washed away. I was now in my 12-year-old boy mode and was feeling like a great explorer in an unknown wilderness. I asked Tom’s son if he wanted to go on an adventure walk with me. He did, our main discovery was that the pit toilets were unlocked! Now we could definitely weather the storm. I had a down coat from Cabela’s, my rubberized Bog boots, and a new pair of fancy Gordini gloves that Julie had given me for Christmas. On my head sat a red stocking cap. Over the hat was my jacket’s hood. The fire plus my outfit kept me surprisingly warm.

The three of us stood, then sat around the fire talking. Despite being an introvert, I have no problem talking to Tom for hours. With that said, I can’t honestly remember much of what we were talking about. That’s the way it sometimes goes with best friends, the contact is more important than the context. At one point Tom decided that he was going to pick up a bottle of wine to help me relax after my harrowing drive. Although I initially protested his plan, I eventually gave in. I am not much of a drinker, and Tom doesn’t drink at all, but he got into his dually and drove to a local gas station that had liquor service. I had seen a plow go down the street in front of the campground and I was anxious to get a road report. If anyone could navigate in the snow, Tom could with his 6 wheels of traction.

Tom return, and I opened the bottle with my Dollar Store corkscrew. I bought it for a $6 camper supply “buying frenzy” several months earlier. I poured some wine into a stainless steel camping mug and took a sip. We continued to talk. Eventually, it was deemed that Tom’s stew was done and he pulled the Dutch oven off the fire. I contributed some paper plates, bread, salt, and a black garbage bag. Not much of a contribution, but at least I felt the I was doing something.

There is nothing quite as delicious as hot food when you are standing out in the cold for hours. I felt like I was dining at a 4-star restaurant. I ask for and received seconds.

Tom’s son was starting to fade and wanted to go to bed. Tom set up a bed in the back seat of his truck’s cab and off he went. Tom and I continued to talk for several more hours as even a single glass of wine can turn me into a philosopher. At some point, I started to talk about the existence of God. Eventually, we both felt the need to call it a night. Tom set up a place in his truck for him, and I fluffed the blankets in my camper van for me. My Walmart heater was definitely warming the van, and I was grateful, as I knew that it was going to drop to 19F during the night. Bedtime, 10:30 PM on New Year’s Eve.

I can’t say that I slept perfectly, but I did sleep reasonably well. The morning came, and I could hear Tom’s diesel running. He started his truck at 2 AM, as the cold was beginning to make his feet numb. It was time to break camp. The firewood had done its job, and all of it had been consumed. Without the fire, we would have never have been able to spend hours the night before standing in the freezing cold

“Breakfast?” Tom said. “Of course,” I replied. It was now the moment of truth. Would the Promaster be able to navigate the snow and drive out of the campground? Tom backed it out, and then I climbed into the driver’s seat and shifted the gear selector into drive. I lightly, but purposefully, pressed the accelerator and the van moved forward. Down the snowy path I went. Soon we were back on the road that had been so treacherous the night before. However, it was now plowed and sanded. Off to Baraboo.

There is a little breakfast joint in Baraboo that resides in an old diner. The diner building was once located somewhere in New England. Apparently, it was disassembled and stored for decades in a warehouse in Ohio. It was discovered there and reassembled in Baraboo, piece by piece. The inside of the restaurant is in a classic diner style, replete with green vinyl upholstered booths and an abundance of chrome. We have eaten there in the past, and I knew that they served a hearty breakfast.

We pulled up to the diner, and I was happy to see that it was open on New Year’s Day. Inside we found an open booth, which was easy as only one other table was occupied as was one chair at the counter. Tom and his son went to wash their hands as the waitress came over. She reminded me of Flo, from those Progressive Insurance commercials. The back of her T-shirt proudly proclaimed, “Body By Bacon.” I knew I was in the right place. Tom and his son returned, and we placed our orders. Both of them ordered omelets. I went for eggs over easy and sausage links. By the time our order arrived, I was well into coffee, but I had to consciously control my consumption as I would soon be on the road. I didn’t want to have to stop every 30 minutes. We confidently noted that we were the very first people to use a campsite at Devil’s Lake State Park in 2019. We did this with the vibrato of Lewis and Clark explorers.

With our bellies once again full it was time to start the journey home, and after a few directional missteps, we were on the newly plowed and salted Interstate heading south. Tom called me and noted that he was going to exit as his son wanted to explore the sporting options at Cascade Mountain. I wished him well and drove on.

I made a call to Julie to let her know that I was safe and heading home. I traveled the rest of the trip in silence and entertained myself with memories of the last 24 hours. I was grateful that I brought the right clothes, enough food, and the right van equipment to weather the storm. I was thankful that I had traveled with my friend, Tom. He thought to bring some things, I remembered others. Together, we had enough.

The nausea of the drive in had long passed, and the pleasure of the trip was present in my mind. I don’t think I would have gone if I knew that I would have had to travel in a snowstorm, but that was behind me, and I was left with the sweet memory of a crazy camping trip where only three people filled a huge campground with their adventurous spirit. It was a great way to start the New Year and to kick off my impending retirement.

Happy New Year, dear readers.

Me, in the snow.

Tom building the fire.

Dinner cooking!

Winter Camping!

We had the campground completely to ourselves.

Peaceful.

The next morning, eggs, sausage and toast for breakfast…and of course coffee.

Simple, Complex Dr. Mike

At 6:20 PM I exited the house and pulled myself up and into my freezing Ram Promaster campervan. I switched on the ignition and started my drive to Panera Bread on the other side of town. It took me about 15 minutes, and the van was still cold when I arrived. Once inside I used the restaurant’s kiosk to order a diet coke and a bowl of squash soup. The restaurant was busier than usual, and my favorite booth was already in use. I sat at a corner table instead. My sister Nancy arrived, and we sat, talked, and ate. This was our weekly creativity night. A time to catch up on each other’s lives and to focus on our writing.

The meeting concluded, and it was time to come up with a writing topic for the next week. I was dry of ideas. Nancy thought of a few for me, but none of them rang true. We Googled “interesting writing topics,” but the suggestions seemed trite, and not very interesting.

With a shortage of ideas, I decided to fall back on me, and the odd way that I approach life. I’ll call this piece “Simple, Complex Mike.”

I’m one of those obsessive people, who really enjoys his obsessiveness. I tend to become interested in something which then starts a sequence of events of learning, experimenting, and doing. This sequence can vary depending on the circumstance, but it is consistent enough to identify it as a pattern.

You may think that this “scientific” approach to life was developed when I was a microbiologist (Ed note: I was a scientist before I became a medical doctor), but it has been with me since birth. My wife, being a conservative Swede, didn’t understand this aspect of my personality and for many years and it was a source of endless frustration for her. I become obsessively interested in a topic, and part of that interest involves comparing things to understand their similarities and differences. I have multiple cameras because I like to explore their pros and cons. I know many ways to make a pie crust. I am comfortable using a variety of computer operating systems. The list goes on.

In most cases, I discover that similarities exceed differences in any given area of interest. A fact that I also find interesting. I have a small room in my basement full of various objects because of this comparison obsession. Julie has gone from complaining about my “junk” to merely shaking her head. This is one of the great things about knowing someone for decades, you start to accept the person for who they are instead of trying to change them into something that you think that they should be.

I see these same behaviors in my siblings, although they are expressed differently. We are all just a little bit crazy but in a harmless way. It must be a genetic thing.

My recent obsessive “energy” has been spent on my van to campervan conversion; its actual construction almost complete. One of the final stages is to convert the open space under the platform bed into a more usable storage area. I had some ideas about this, and I asked my friend, Tom, for his construction expertise. Tom, being a creative guy and general contractor, developed a grander and more comprehensive vision, and my garage is now filled with plywood slabs that are waiting for the next phase of construction. He is currently working 7 days a week, to completes a major project, and I am especially grateful for any bit of time that he can find to help me. However, since he is often busy I now have time to think about other things. I always have a “Plan B” at the ready. In this case, my brain has switched from storage construction to van kitchen completion.

I have been camping all of my life and have owned travel trailers. Based on this it should be easy for me to come up with a simple cooking system for the van. However, that is not how my brain works. In my mind, this is an opportunity to learn more about cooking systems and methods. I’m sure that some of you are shaking your heads and muttering, “Dr. Mike you have too much free time on your hands.” This may be the case, but I have always approached life this way, even when I was working 80 hours per week.

The question at hand: Can I use free solar energy to cook my food? This question has pushed me to learn about solar panels, batteries, charge controllers, amp hours, efficient appliances, and so on. You may be thinking, “Just get a camp stove and be done with it!.” That is a good suggestion, and it may be my eventual decision. However, my brain exercise is as much about learning as it is about implementation. It is exciting for me to acquire new knowledge and to pass on that knowledge on. In this case, I’ll probably produce a video to help other new campervan builders.

You would be right in surmising that many simple issues turn into complex problems for me because of this. That is true and OK by me, as solving problems is one of my favorite activities. You may also be confused by the fact that I’m building out a very simple campervan. A place of simplicity that is spare when it comes to material objects. Welcome to Dr. Mike’s bipolar world. I have these two very different sides. One pole creates complexity when it isn’t necessary. The other pole pushes for simplicity and eschews complexity. You may think that these converse positions pull me apart, but in reality, I’m quite comfortable with this duality.

Simplicity is the counterpoint of my self-imposed complexity. An emotional island to travel to for some mental R and R.

My van is simple, its contents are spare. The interior of my Promaster is considerably smaller than the square footage of my master bathroom. I have 2 pots, and I pan. One sleeping bag and an extra blanket. A few basic tools. Yet, it is enough. It is enough because my needs change when I’m vandwelling. My life becomes simple, and make do with what I have. When I camp I never feel deprived, instead I feel blessed. My behavior calms. I slow down. I savor simple meals and simple pleasures. Nature gives me peace.

As humans, we tend to categorize the people around us quickly. It is so easy to judge someone by their appearance, demeanor, or vocabulary. We put individuals in slots that determine not only what we think of them, but also how we treat them. Have you ever given someone you initially rejected a “second look” only to find a remarkable and faithful friend? Conversely, have you been dazzled by someone only to discover that they were empty, self-centered, and self-serving?

We are all complex and simple at the same time. The way that we express these poles vary from individual to individual. However, if you insist on judging a book by its cover, you will likely deprive yourself of many wonderful relational adventures.

I am fortunate to have the title of doctor. Those six letters instantly give me a level of status and acceptance. This is in contrast to young Michael, the kid with one pair of pants who had to sleep on the back porch. However, Doctor Mike and little Michael are the same. My drive to learn is the same. My caring for others is the same. My quirky personality is the same. How is it then that people treat me so differently just because of a title?

I believe that we need to not only accept others for who they are, but we also need to love them for who they are. Does someone have a different political belief than you? Are they a different race? Do they have a different sexual orientation? Are you judging them because of these things? If so, you are depriving yourself. You are demonstrating your limitations, rather than theirs.

I spend my time comparing and contrasting things, and in the end, I almost always discover that those things that I compare are more similar than different. Similarities are necessary for continuity, but in differences, I find new ideas and more creative ways to think. Similarities may make me comfortable, but differences make me grow.

Let’s celebrate our similarities and differences. I ask you to love me based on who I am. In turn, I will do the same to you.

Peace

My campervan’s very simple interior.

Best friend, Tom and a garage full of plywood.

The initial box that will eventually be partitioned into useable storage space.

Experiment: Can I successfully cook chicken using a 12-volt battery?

Experiment conclusion: Yes!

Experiment: Can I make a complex meal using a simple rice cooker?

Answer: Yes!

 

Sleeping In My Driveway

If I were a car, I would probably be a minivan. Sensibly designed with just enough flash to make me interesting. Ferrari’s are exciting, but if you need to get the job done you hop into a reliable and roomy Honda Odyssey.

Are you a person who likes to fly by the seat of your pants? I don’t fit into that category, I’m a planner and a tester.

A few months back my friend Tom and I installed a mains power port on the side of my campervan, and in the weeks afterward I created a simple power distribution system for the vehicle. However, I never operated it.

Dear readers, a Midwest October is upon me; perfect to do a little van exploration. With nighttime temperatures in the high 20s (-2C) it was time to test several different camper systems.

Early yesterday I pulled out the 30 Amp extension cord from the camper’s storage bin and attempted to connect it to the van’s receptacle. Crap! It wouldn’t go in. The pins on this type of plug are circular, and with some study, I was able to determine that they were slightly out of alignment. A little bending with my multi-tool and the plug slid in and mounted.

I went back into my van’s storage and located the $16 Walmart electric heater that I had purchased a few weeks earlier. I plugged it in, turned it on and… it worked! I was then off to the basement to find my 25-year-old sleeping bag. It is old and flattened, but it is also extra-long and thereby perfect for my 6’3” frame.

With heater and bag in place, I was ready to do a test run. The wilds of a National Park, you may ask?  No, my driveway, of course! When I told Julie about my plans to sleep in the driveway, she nodded in acknowledgment. After 25 years of marriage, she didn’t feel it necessary to comment on the absurdity of my vision. My more adventurous friend Tom thought that I should try to sleep in the cold with the heater turned off. Likely, as some sort of manly exercise. It should be noted that Tom possesses an ultra high quality and very warm REI sleeping bag, as opposed to my 25-year-old “pancake.”

As bedtime approached, I gathered my camping essentials:  water bottle, laptop, and iPhone. I traversed the 30 feet from my front door to the camper and entered with anticipation. It was cold! On went the electric heater powered by my garage’s outlet. I reached down and powered up the van’s 12V power system, and then flipped on its interior lights.

The heater seemed anemic, and I thought I would be spending the night freezing. But, in short order the van warmed up. I settled in my sleeping bag, fully dressed including a stocking cap. Like any other wilderness he-man, I opened up my laptop and checked Facebook, braving a weaker wifi signal from my house.

I worried that I wouldn’t fall asleep, as I fell asleep. Comfortable, warm, sleeping in a van parked in my driveway Silly for Dr. Mike, a 65-year-old physician, exciting for the 9-year-old Michael inside of me.

The outside temperature dropped to 29 degrees, but my little heater plugged on. In fact, I had to turn it to low in the middle of the night because I was getting too hot.

I write this the next morning after following my tradition of walking to Starbucks. Here I sit at my usual table, typing and sipping coffee. Mission accomplished.

My adventure may seem childish to you, or it may not. However, it was fun and informative for me. I tested out several of my camper’s systems and felt the security of reassurance. I had a “backyard” camping adventure. I had a good time.

Dear reader, so often we get locked into doing only “appropriate” behaviors. We don’t allow ourselves simple pleasures because we have deemed them childish. We criticize our children, “You are too old to do that.”

I am here to tell you that it is OK to explore the child in you because that is the part of you that still possesses wonderment. I challenge you to rediscover that aspect of you. I believe that you will grow just a little bit more in the process.

My $16 Walmart heater, and 25-year-old sleeping bag.

View of my front door from my sleeping quarters.

Plugged into the house’s AC power.

Perseverance, Guilt, Childhood, And My Campervan.

Ninety-degree temperatures, 100% humidity, unforgiving sun; I baked. I had spent the morning with a friend under similar conditions as we destroyed the interior of my campervan with the hope of transforming her into something better.

Before the installing of the campervan insert, I had carefully run wires between post and pillar so there would be two electrical circuits available. One to power the yet to be installed exhaust fan, and another to electrify the proposed LED ceiling lights. These wires now covered by the plastic ceiling panels installed in Colorado just weeks before. It was now time to reveal them from their hiding place, and so the panels came down.

A 14 inch by 14-inch hole was cut out of her roof, an exhaust fan screwed into that gap. Huge solar panels were carefully bolted on. Another hole drilled into her roof’s center to carry the cables from those panels into her cabin. Yet another hole, almost 3 inches, was gutted out of her side to provide a place for an AC power connector. Interior side panels were removed to allow wiring access. Her beautiful kitchen was unbolted and temporarily abandoned in my friend’s garage.

Steps that should have been straightforward were difficult. My friend has all of the right skills, all of the right tools, and enough motivation to get the job done. To the best of my ability, I also did my job. Researching and buying products, watching YouTube videos, pre-testing, and pre-planning whenever I could. Yet, every step was hard.

As you know dear readers, it is difficult for me to ask for help. Asking for help in this situation was even more difficult, as such a request placed me in an especially vulnerable position. I do not have the skills, tools, or understanding to complete the project on my own, and once it was started it had to go to completion, there was no half-way. If my friend decided to walk away at any moment, I would be helpless. I do not like being helpless.

Naturally, I knew my friend would not walk away, but I had not placed myself in such a vulnerable place since childhood, and if you have read my previous post you know why.

The work continued with 10 individual LED lights bolted into the ceiling. To attach them properly each screw had to be individually cut with a grinder. I had previously tested all of the lights, but when I re-tested them in situ, they refused to illuminate. The screws that were so carefully cut were shorting out the LED’s circuits and had to be insulated. And so it went.

Despite my best efforts, I found myself transformed to a past time and prior role. I was no longer Mike, the doctor, I was was Michael the 9 year old. Old unwanted roles, high temperatures, lack of skills, and real problems conspired against me. I took my usual stance and soldiered on. This is a strategy that I have long practiced in challenging situations. I don’t give up. I don’t give in. I command my intellect to overpower my emotion, and I move forward.

The ceiling panels were re-bolted to the roof of the van, but even this task was difficult as some of the screws spun aimlessly, refusing to tighten. Why did everything have to be so difficult when I just wanted to get the project completed and to move on?

Add to this the guilt that I was feeling for imposing so considerably on my friend. He did not complain, but I had already consumed days of his personal time, and the end was not in sight. I thought I would let him know how appreciative I was by publicly announcing my gratitude on Facebook. But in honest retrospect, I think my actions were done in part to relieve my guilty feelings. I find it strange that I can willingly and joyfully help others, yet I cannot ascribe these attributes to those who offer a hand of help to me.

Now alone, I re-enter my van. Once beautiful, presently a mess of disarray. With me is my tester device. Made from a battery pack and fuse box, it stands at the ready. In my pocket is a multimeter.

I connect the wires that should power the LED lights and turn on the power. Only two out of the 10 lights illuminate. I connect the exhaust fan’s power supply and click on the remote control. It sits silent. I pull out my multimeter and set its controls to 50 volts DC. If all goes well, I should get between 10 volts to 20 volts registered on it when I touch the solar panel’s input cables. I press the sharp probe tips into the wires, and the meter records 1 volt.

A wave of desperation covers me. How is this possible? I have experimented with electricity since childhood. I have an advanced class amateur radio license. These circuits are simple, my planning was good, my friend’s work was flawless. Suddenly I’m enveloped by guilt. A pang of guilt from the distant past. A pang of guilt that tells me that all of these problems have to be my fault. That I am to blame. It was now time to approach my friend and admit this to him and accept my consequences. He, of course, tells me that my guilty assumptions are ridiculous.

I am persistent, and I don’t allow illogical thinking to rule me. Despite my guilt, I press forward, and we approached each issue methodically. The LED malfunction is traced to a faulty connector. I remove it, manually spliced the wires together, and 10 lights shine brightly. We test the fan’s electrical supply circuit, and despite being new, it is shorted. I piggyback the power wires from the fan onto the LED feed line, and the fan jumps to life. Each of the solar panel’s MC4 connectors are explored, and it is discovered that the final one in the chain is defective. Being a planner, I have a backup connector at the ready. It is replaced and the multimeter reads a stable 18 volts. From desperation to success, all due to perseverance. All due to not allowing my old and inaccurate emotions consume me.

Dear reader, most of my posts have a theme which is that we are continuously given life lessons, but most of us choose to ignore them. These lessons come in the form of projects, problems, our experiences, and our connections with others.

It would be great to say that the above experience transformed me. It did not. I will need to ask for this type of help many more times before I feel comfortable with that action, and I will likely succumb many more times to falling back into my childhood persona when I do take that risk. However, I now know that I can ask, I can receive, and I can survive. That is important knowledge.

The process also opened up new issues that I need to face, but isn’t that what life is all about? As they say, life is a journey, not a destination. I will never reach perfection, but hopefully, I will improve each time I challenge my false beliefs and inaccurate perceptions. Walk with me, please.

My Crazy Solo 2000 Mile Car Trip

How is it possible to be semi-retired and not have enough time? When I was working 60-70 hours a week, I found time for extra tasks. Apparently, that ability has magically evaporated.

As you recall from my other posts, I recently bought a Ram Promaster cargo van with the idea of transforming it into a simple campervan. I studied many conversion options, and I finally decided to go with a kit that could be installed in my Promaster in a couple of hours. The only problem was that the shop that installs these kits was in Colorado Springs, over 1000 miles away.

My busy retired schedule was already filled with chores, events, and tasks, but I still needed to find a block of time to make the long trip. Ideally, the drive could be a fun adventure if I had enough time to drive/sightsee and if I could travel with someone. Julie initially said she would be my companion, but she changed her mind because she felt that she couldn’t be away from home. My friend Tom has family and work responsibilities, and my kids work summer jobs. That summed up all of the people in my life who would want to spend days of their time sitting 3 feet away from me in a cargo van. Based on these realities I bit the bullet and decided to limit my total time away to less than 4 days and to travel solo.

Saturday arrived, and I drove over to Tom’s house at 5 AM to do our usual “solving the problems of the world.” I then came home to say my goodbyes, and to load my bare cargo van. Into its cavity went a gym bag of clothing, an air mattress, a sleeping bag, a throw pillow, a 5-gallon carboy of water, and a large duffel bag filled with food, cooking gear and a butane stove. With Google Maps as my companion, I was off on my adventure.

Mile after mile, hour after hour. I spent much of the first day of driving in silent thought. Tom had visited the Iowa Capitol building earlier with his son, Charlie, and highly recommended the free tour. I took his advice and had a two-hour layover in Des Moines. The capitol building is magnificent, and the tour guide was excellent. He also suggested a $10/night county campground on the western edge of Iowa which is where I spent my first night. For a sawbuck, I got to camp on a grassy site that was right on a river. I didn’t mind sleeping in my bare van, it felt like an adventure ala the boxcar kids.

Unfortunately, I had about 13 hours of driving the next day, which was both windy and raining. My Promaster acted like a sail in the strong wind forcing me to grip the steering wheel for the next 600 miles tightly. Needless to say, I was pretty exhausted by the time I reached Colorado Springs on Sunday night. I had booked a room at the Hyatt, as I wanted to make sure that I would be up and alert for Monday’s big installation. I was so spent that I didn’t want to leave the room and so I heated up a can of Annie’s Quinoa, Kale and Red Lentil soup for dinner. After a hot and soapy shower, I crashed into bed.

The next morning I ate my complimentary hotel breakfast and headed off to Wayfarer Vans. There I met Ian, the company’s owner. He kindly lent me his personal car during the install, which allowed me to go to the Garden of the Gods state park. I hiked there among the wildflowers and red rock formations. By 1:30 PM the job was completed and I hopped into the driver’s seat for the very long drive home. I felt more lonely on the return trip, so I gratefully talked on the phone and listened to podcasts on Spotify.

Into the night I drove, thinking that every hour on the road would be one less hour the next day. I stopped only for gas and necessities while dining on gas station hot dogs and diet Mountain Dew.

At around 11:30 PM I pulled into a Nebraska rest stop. I spied the sign that limited stays to 10 hours or less. “Perfect,” I thought. I would be long gone before that. Instead of having an air mattress on a metal floor I now had a real mattress on a platform bed. I crawled into my sleeping bag wondering if I would fall asleep. Within moments my eyes closed and I drifted off to the diesel drone of the nearby tractor trailers.

The next morning I cooked up oatmeal and coffee in my new campervan, pulled myself into the driver’s seat, and continued my trip. Many hours later I arrived home. Once again exhausted, but very happy as I had reached my goal.

The trip served many purposes beyond my intended one. I tested my ability to drive for hours by myself. I put to use my camp cooking skills by preparing meals in the van. I explored my ability to entertain myself for days on end. I stretched my introverted self by talking to strangers. Overall, it was a successful trip, and one more step in my quest to go on the road to write and to take photographs.

Dear reader, I have a dream, and I am doing my best to achieve that dream. The overall results may be successful, they may be unsuccessful, or they may lie somewhere in the middle. I am OK with failing at my goal. However, I am not OK with never trying to achieve it.

In this world, we have external limits and obligations that prevent us from doing those things that we desire. However, it is the individual who often crushes their own dreams. Sometimes this is because of fear. At other times it is due to lack of ambition. Still other times it is due to being comfortable with the status quo. In this latter example, the person’s life is good enough, and they are willing to settle. I have never wanted to settle. Why should you? Ever forward, one step at a time.

Do you have goals and dreams? What are you doing to achieve them?