Category Archives: living in a van

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

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?

Vandwelling As A Metaphor

I reread this post, and it seems to be mostly a self-reflection, which may be uninteresting to read. I’m going to publish it anyway as one of my goals has been to become more open and transparent to others.

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This morning I sliced up an apple and smeared some peanut butter on it. I carried it, along with my cup of coffee, to my study and sat in my broken desk chair. I powered up my computer, clicked on YouTube, scanned the splash screen, and chose a video from vandweller, Robert Witham. In the video, he talked about why he decided to move into a van when he was 40. His wife had died after a heroic battle with cancer, and he had to face his own mortality. He realized how short life was, and he asked himself if he was living his life, or waiting for some unknown time when he would do so. This is a question that I have been asking myself.

If you read my blog, you know that I’m building a campervan from a cargo van. I will make significant progress in that endeavor this weekend when I drive solo to Colorado and have the bed and kitchen insert installed by Wayfarer Vans. After next week my campervan will be functional, and about 80% completed. The rest of the project will move slower, as it will rely on my limited construction skills and my friend Tom’s limited free time.

If you like to connect dots, you may assume by reading the first two paragraphs that I’m about to abandon my home and family and become a vandweller. That is not the case. In reality, the van serves as a metaphor for my life as it is now evolving. Let me explain further.

It would have been easy for me to have given into my less than perfect childhood and settled for a life of pipe dreams. It is reasonable to assume that I could have gotten a factory job while regretting what, “could have been.” However, I felt that was not my life’s script. Even as a child I believed that I could, and should, do more.

Wishes are only that, and I believe that I am where I am because of many things, including luck, and the grace of God. I feel incredibly fortunate, so why am I continuing to expand my horizon? The answer is simple, like most people I still have unresolved issues and goals. I do not want to be a person pondering a list of regrets when I draw my dying breath.

I’m not into spectator sports, I don’t play golf, I find games and competitions frustrating. These activities are often where men bond and form friendships. My lack of these interests and abilities contributed to my belief that I didn’t have much to offer to a potential male buddy.

Conversely, as a psychotherapist, I have worked with men from every economic and educational level. Time and time again I have been able to make solid connections with my male patients, who are more than willing to talk about topics ranging from their spiritual beliefs to their feelings and fears. The fact that I don’t know the latest sports score has no bearing on our connection.

My childhood self felt that I had little to offer a male friend because I wasn’t sporty, but my adult self had proof that I could connect in a significant and meaningful way. Childhood beliefs can be compelling, even when confronted with contrary data. However, I refuse to be defined by my irrational self, and in the last few years I have attacked this erroneous belief and pushed forward.

Most of the significant relationships that I have had in my life have been with women, who generally sought me out, and seem to value me for who I am. However, I really missed not having a best male friend. Someone to do guy things with. Over three years ago I asked Tom if he would be my friend, and we have become best friends. His friendship has been a tremendous blessing. I can honestly say that it has been life changing for me.

Lately, I have been trying to expand my friendship circle. With that said, it is hard for me to be vulnerable. When I reach out to someone, my old tapes say “Don’t bother them, they really don’t want to spend any time with you.” This makes it difficult to put myself out there. But when have I ever stopped doing something because it was difficult? My experience tells me that practice makes difficult things easy. I’m still waiting for the easy part, so I guess I need to practice more.

Though much of my adult life I was obese. Stress, lack of exercise, poor diet, terrible sleeping patterns, they all conspired to cause me to believe that I could never lose weight. Through many different avenues, I have lost a considerable amount of weight and have become more fit in the process. Another goal.

I am very grateful that I had the ability and opportunity to pursue a career in medicine. If I had to do it again, I would. The benefits of my profession are numerous, but there are also some drawbacks. A doctor’s professional life is all-consuming. You are always on, you always have to place the needs of others before your needs. Being a physician is not a 9 to 5 job, it is a 24/7 dedication.

This dedicated style has seeped into my marriage and family life. I have a wonderful family, and I feel a strong compulsion to take care of their needs. I have tried to be a good provider, parent, and husband. However, I have not always been very good at taking care of myself. In fact, I placed my physical and emotional self-care somewhere below the needs of our cat. For instance, I continued to add work hours to my schedule, although my health was in decline. My life was a repetitive cycle: work, home, eat, sleep.

I love to learn and to compensate for my lack of self-time; I would become an expert on things that held my interest. This usually involved obtaining items to study and understand. These pursuits would temporarily appease me. However, they didn’t have an impact on the root cause of my problem. Things cannot take the place of emotional needs.

I continue to learn, teach and create. However, I’m now trying to pursue these interest in the context of healthy growth. You see some of that effort in this blog where I attempt to be honest about what is going on with me in a public forum. Why is that important? Because it is another way of me announcing to the world who I am. Take me as I am, I will no longer be a chameleon who changes colors to please those around me.

Some of my new life goals have been to find greater personal balance. This balance includes developing significant connections with others, regaining my health, recognizing and respecting my own needs, redefining my creative side, and the list goes on.

Will I accomplish all of my life goals? Other goals are more difficult, and I don’t feel that I have the ability to solve them on my own. These goals reference the most profound aspects of who I am. Because of their complexity, the only way that they could be achieved would be by direct intervention from someone other than myself, or by God himself. Either solution would be a miracle. I have already witnessed miracles in my life, but I need to accept that fact that these goals may never be met.

The van conversion symbolizes my ability to do something for myself. The process involves spending money on myself. It involves giving myself time. When completed the campervan will serve as a physical portal that will allow me to learn more, teach more, expand my writing and photography, meet new friends, and challenge other false beliefs.

My first adventure will occur when I drive to Colorado this Saturday morning. During that trip, I will try out some of my recently acquired vandwelling skills. I am anxious for Saturday to come.

Robert Witham’s video rang true to me when I viewed it this morning. I’m 65 years old. If I don’t attack my goals now, when will I? There is no time better than the present.

Dear readers, what are your life goals, and what are you doing to achieve them?

Addendum: I started writing this post on Tuesday morning, and it is now Wednesday morning. In the interim, a new friend that I met at Crater Lake National Park emailed me noting that he would like to keep up our correspondences. I then went to Starbucks and ran into Ed, a nice guy who stops for coffee now and again. He mentioned that he wanted to catch up with me before he heads out to his vacation home and that he would stop by again on Thursday to do so. All these years I was afraid to reach out my hand of friendship because I thought it would be rejected. Perhaps I was the one rejecting.

Robert Witham’s Vlog Post

Facing Mr. Kustom-The Secret To Success

Facing Mr. Kustom

Seven AM and I’m back from my morning walk. One-third cup quick cook oatmeal, two-thirds cup water, microwave for two minutes. Some mixed nuts, a few dried cranberries stirred in; I’m eating breakfast, and I’m feeling anxious.

I’m not usually an anxious person, but I do have a distaste for the unknown. I also have a dislike for the over-stimulation that driving to Chicago during a Monday rush hour brings.

Seven thirty and it is time to get into my Promaster. Gigantic and white, my wife refers to him as the “White Whale.” I have named him Albus, as a nod to the imaginary headmaster of Hogwarts who transformed the lives of others through magic.

I’m not suggesting that my work van is magical, but with some effort, it will be transformed from a bare truck into a camper-van that is capable of taking me to magical places. However, for this magic to happen, I will first need to stretch my personal comfort level.

To be honest, I still not used to driving Albus. He is enormous, and a master of blind spots. His two large mirrors help, but I’m still getting used to them. The thought of facing road construction traffic as I steer him is the source of my anxiety.

I pull myself up into his cabin, and I strap on my seatbelt. I dial in Google maps, paste in Mr. Kustom’s address, hit “start.” Soon I’m on I-88, then I-294, then I-90. I cling to the right lane as I drive. My sweet Google Assistant’s voice guides me but doesn’t lower my anxiety. I glance at the clock on the dashboard, and it is now 8:25. My appointment is at 9 AM. Despite padding my travel time with an extra 30 minutes, it looks like I may be late. “You can’t change traffic Mike, you need to accept where you are and let go,” I tell myself. Traffic chugs along, and soon I’m on Irving Park Road. I find a spot on the street, and wait for the store to open. I have 5 minutes to spare.

Now inside the store, my anxiety lessened, I find a spot among the three waiting chairs which seem out-of-place as they are awkwardly planted in the main showroom; I sit, knowing that the job will take 9 or more hours.

———————-

I have already finished a graphic novel on Joel Kupperman, of Quiz Kid’s fame, lent to me by Julie, I found it both a fun and interesting read. I now write, more to fill time than anything else. Albus is getting windows put in, two on his rear doors, and one on his sliding door. The salesman suggested adding an additional window on the driver’s side panel, but I’m already at my financial limit. The windows will make Albus more drivable, and add light to his interior when he becomes a camper. The windows are necessary, which is why I drove to Chicago, and why I’m patiently sitting as I listen to reggae music blaring over the store’s music system. Today is the beginning of his transformation. Tomorrow, he will have a hitch installed. In about two weeks I’ll drive to Colorado by myself to have Wayfarer vans install a modular camper interior that will include a floor, walls, ceiling, bed, and a kitchen. I’m looking at the Colorado trip as an adventure, but I’m only allowing myself a few days to get there and back, which adds time-stress to the mix.

After the Colorado trip, he will become a useable camper, but there is still more to do. A roof fan, though the wall power port, swivel seats, the list goes on. I’ll tackle these jobs with the help of my friend, Tom. Having a knowledgeable person to brainstorm with definitely helps me feel more comfortable and less anxious.

The goal is to make Albus a good camper by the end of August, but he won’t be completed until fall. There are many steps ahead.

Anything and everything can be a learning lesson. Today’s lesson is that sometimes you have to go through unpleasant steps to achieve the desired goal. I know that the windows will be put in and by tomorrow I’ll be on to my next project. The discomfort that I am experiencing today will soon be forgotten.

In my life, I have had many “no pain, no gain” experience. One of the reasons that I believe that I have been successful is that I have an excellent ability to do a cost analysis when it comes to the task at hand. I’m willing to expend substantial effort and to experience significant discomfort if I feel that the outcome is worth it. Conversely, I am unwilling to put out small effort and slight discomfort if I think that the desired result is unlikely. I’m also persistent, and very consistent. I used to think that everyone felt and functioned as I do, but I know now that this is not the case.

Most people want a good life, but they don’t want to expend the effort or experience the discomfort necessary to achieve that outcome. Do you want financial security? Spend less, and put more money in the bank. Feel that you are working beneath your intelligence level? Go back to school, retrain, or look for a better opportunity. Miserable because you are dealing with something that is out of your control? Accept it, or leave the person/situation.

I understand that some of you may be muttering, “Easy for him to talk, he’s a doctor.” Yes, that is true, but the way that I became a physician was by following the above principles. I come from a blue-collar background and didn’t have the opportunities that others had. However, I can be as tenacious as a bulldog when I need to be. We can’t always have everything that we want. In fact, sometimes we have to give up things that we do want to obtain something that we want more. That is life.

As an aside, I believe that you can accomplish goals while still being kind and generous to others. I find no joy in hurting or putting down someone.

Dear reader, It is easy to blame life, others, or God for not having what you think you deserve. The “Secret to Success” is that there is no secret. The sourness of a distasteful task is quickly remedied by the sweetness of a goal achieved.

Before Before New side window New windows.

On Vandwelling, Part II

In my life, I have dreams, accomplishments, and disappointments.

I try to minimize disappointment by adopting three simple strategies. I can neutralize it. I can transform it from a disappointment into an accomplishment. I can merely accept it and move on. These are reasonable approaches that often, but not always, work.

There are problems that I need to act on immediately if I hope to have any chance of resolving them. However, sometimes a disappointment can convert itself on its own. In other words, it really wasn’t a disappointment; instead I was just misinterpreting the situation. Such a case is the case of my retirement fund.

Thirty years ago I established my retirement fund. No, I’m not talking about an IRA, I’m talking about an adventure fund. I put a chunk of money into an account as a seed, and I planned to add money to it on a regular basis until I had a sizeable nest egg. The fund was envisioned to establish some sort of retirement adventure plan. Perhaps I would purchase a second home in a beautiful location, maybe I would buy an ultra luxurious Class A RV. The designation for the fund was pretty open.

My savings plan never developed in the way that I wanted it to. Its value went up and down over the years, but the overall amount has remained mostly the same.

Over time the thought of a second home became more of a burden than a blessing, and after spending decades camping, I came to realize that I was happiest surrounded by nature.

My camping trips made me understand that I needed certain things to be comfortable. I wanted my bed to be off the ground. I wanted to have the ability to quickly access my gear so it would be at the ready for a spontaneous weekend trip. I wanted enough shelter to have a place to comfortably hang out in inclement weather.

I never used the onboard bathroom in my old camper, as it was a hassle to dump and clean the system. I never hooked up my camper’s kitchen, as I found it more enjoyable to cook on a picnic table. I never took advantage of some of my camper’s electronic features, like the cable TV connection, as I preferred the crackle of a campfire to the canned laughter of a sitcom.

When I started my search for the perfect camper, I was thinking in terms of 5 people traveling together. But that number quickly changed to 4 when I realized that it would be unlikely that my 21-year-old daughter would want to continue to take family camping trips with us.

Two years ago I bought a Ford Flex, which could tow 5000 pounds. I started to look at small campers/trailers that could sleep 4 and fell in love with a little Winnebago trailer called a Minnie Winnie. It was a marvel of compact design, and also light enough to be pulled by the Flex. However, something held me back, and I never bought it. My wife Julie is still working, which meant that I might be taking some solo trips, and the thought of backing up a trailer by myself created some anxiety in me. More recently, I have gained additional awareness. We have not gone on a family camping vacation for over 3 years, as we have traveled on other types of trips instead. It made little sense to build my plans of camping adventures based on accommodating a family. It made more sense to think in terms of one or two campers. I continued to look, but no option seemed right.

Time ticked on, and I tried to use the tool of acceptance. “I will accept the fact that I may never have another camper.”

My friend Tom also has a Ford Flex, in fact, his car was the inspiration for purchasing mine. Tom often travels with his son Charlie in his Flex, and he has developed a system to use it as a car camper.

His example got me experimenting with turning my Flex into a similar rolling home. With the back two rows of seats turned down I could fit nicely. An REI self-inflating mattress made a comfy bed, and the nooks and crannies of the vehicle served as places for gear storage. This system worked pretty well on several mini-trips, but it had its limitations. First was the hassle of converting and loading the car every time I wanted to use it. Second was the space factor. Yes, I had a comfy bed, but that was about it. If the weather was inclement, I was stuck outside. Third was the fact that this was strictly a solution for one person, no more. I’m well over 6 feet tall, and I take up a lot of space.

I had toyed with the idea of buying an old conversion van and modifying it. Tom had said that he would help me with the job, and as a general contractor, he has all of the skills and tools necessary for the task. However, I felt that such an extensive project would place an unreasonable burden on him.

The next part of the puzzle was solved by a random YouTube video that appeared in my “To Watch” feed. The video was from a lady who used a company called Wayfarer in Colorado Springs to install a simple modular conversion system in her Promaster City. Further searches led me to a video of the company’s conversion offering for a full-sized Promaster van. This modular kit could be installed in 2 hours and included all of the things that I would need in a home away from home. Just as importantly, it didn’t include things that I would never use, like an onboard bathroom. Of course, I was fearful, but I also felt excited.

Tom had found me a good deal on my Flex, and now he found me a good deal on a high-top Promaster. Two weeks ago I broke into my retirement nest egg and bought it. Today I’ll get a hitch installed for a bike carrier, in a few weeks I’ll have a couple of windows installed, and by the end of the month, I’ll have Wayfarer install their conversion systems. Tom and I will do the finishing touches (vent fan, shore electric, etc.). My dream is about to be realized!

If I had acted rashly, I would have made a mistake. By waiting, the disappointment that I felt transformed into the realization that an earlier decision would have been a wrong decision. I can park the new van in my driveway packed and ready to go. I can travel in it by myself with all of the necessary creature comforts. I can go on trips with Julie. I can caravan with Tom. The van is big enough for me to stand up in it. It has a comfy bed, lots of storage, and a simple, practical design. It is everything that I wanted, except I won’t have to spend several months building it out.

Time turned my disappointment into an accomplishment. I’ll post the conversion process as it proceeds. Life doesn’t have to be a struggle. Sometimes you just need to let life happen without trying to control every second of it. Dear reader, kick back and relax today and see what life gives you.

My new cargo van.

My future home?