It’s 2020. COVID lockdown. I’m in solitude on 80 acres of land in southwest Colorado. Just me, 19 horses, and a yurt for four months.

I deeply cherished my time here and was so fortunate to be insulated from the daily troubles that many others experienced during lockdown. Life was beautifully simple - I woke up to the sound of birds, dew on the ground, pouring coffee in the morning’s golden hour. In the day I would attend meetings for my 9-5 job. After, I would work on the land, caring for the property through sweat and handiwork - a barter for my stay at the yurt. In the evenings I would cook, and spend my sunset in the company of the 19 horses roaming on the pasture below. The rhythm and intimacy with my surroundings grounded me.

Four months pass, and all good things must come to an end. I return to Boulder, eager to reconnect with friends and “civilization”, but civilization was harder on me than I anticipated. Transitioning from the peace of the yurt to the noise and business of everyday life back in Boulder was harsh. And quickly, the daydreams of living in a van over the past few years billowed into life.

I was excited. I was scared. I was unsure. I was confident.

But ultimately I thought: if not now, when?

With my work supervisor’s blessing and encouragement (thank you, Jessie!), I decided it was time to make things happen, and to do so in the short amount of time I had before my lease was up.

The Build

Things happened fast. Real fast. Within two weeks of having the idea, I had bought a van - a poorly DIY built van out of Durango. At first I thought I would simply tweak some small things to make it more my style, but fast forward to the end of the first day, and the entire build was gutted. I guess I was starting from scratch!

With no prior building experience or tools, I borrowed tools from friends and worked around the clock. If I wasn’t working, I was building. And if I wasn’t building, I was researching the build. The pace of the build was fast, but thankfully my vision for the space was my lighthouse, which carried the build to shore. I enjoyed the build process, despite the natural hardships that come with a DIY build, but I knew that this wouldn’t be my last build by any means. And 5 weeks later, my DIY van build, Gypsum, was complete.

The Adventure

Now time to hit the road, and I headed straight to Orlando, FL (not the typical vanlife destination) with the goal of winning over a woman who was, and is, the love of my life. While it took some convincing, in the end love prevailed, and I continued my trip. And since I had made it to the east coast, I thought why not see all of it?

I spent a few months on the east coast, going from Florida all the way up to Maine, back down to Florida again, and then over to the West, hitting every state west from the southwest to the northwest. As a big skier, mountain biker, trail runner and adventurer, it was always my dream to travel to these new, wild places and experience them - and I am so, so grateful I took the opportunity to do so when I could, and do it in a home on wheels that I truly loved.

I didn’t want to stop living in a van - I loved it, but a change in job meant that I no longer worked remote, which meant the freedom I had to explore was gone. I moved into an apartment and immediately bought some tools, eager to start building immediately.

Reflections

Vanlife is so special, and I truly cherish the time I spent in my van. You meet so many unique, new people, make friends, travel to new places, kick off new adventures, and so much more. You also face struggles, when trying to find a place to sleep for the night, cleaning up messes, adjusting to living in a small space and so much more.

But the truth is, the pros outweigh the cons. While diving into vanlife can be intimidating, it is unlike any other life experience you can have.

So I’m here to say this - if you can, do it, because you never know what is on the other side of your adventure.