Van Life 101

FYI

• My van, Charlotte, does not have built-in holding tanks for fresh, gray, or black water.

• Thanks to three solar panels on the roof, I have lots of electricity. There’s enough power to run small appliances (as long as they are under 1200 watts), my portable internet hotspot, and chargers for multiple devices.

• Charlotte has a terrific heater, which runs on fuel from the gas tank, but no air conditioning.

After more than four months on the road, I decided to share a few things I’ve learned about full-time van life. I tend to learn the hard way, through trials and errors. Lots of errors. You’re probably smarter than me, so please share your helpful tips in the comments.

FUEL

When your fuel gauge hits the halfway mark, start looking for a gas station. Traveling on unfamiliar roads to unfamiliar places—especially on secondary highways—can deliver both welcome and unwelcome surprises. Sometimes a well-placed sign will warn you that the next gas is 100 miles away. Sometimes there is no such sign, even though the next gas is far, far away.

If you’re worried about dwindling fuel, you won’t be able to enjoy the scenery or think about much of anything else. Stressful! But running out of fuel is a preventable mishap.

KETTLE

A kettle to heat water is essential. You’ll need hot water for making tea and coffee, face (and other body parts) washing, dishwashing, general cleaning chores, and etc. If you’re a fraidy cat like me, you may want to boil drinking water in certain situations.

WATER

Always carry more water than you think you’ll need, especially if you plan to camp in the desert. In addition to the various glass and plastic water bottles I carry around, Charlotte has two five-gallon containers under the sink. One to dispense fresh water and one to collect gray water. I mostly use this water for morning and evening washups and dish washing, but only if no other water source is available for filling my buckets.

It’s a physical workout to deal with these containers. I must disconnect hoses, pull the gray water container out from under the sink, then shove the container of clean water back inside the cabinet. Every gallon of water weighs eight pounds. These days, I’m not as capable of carrying, shoving, and repositioning forty sloshing pounds as I used to be. So, I reserve water container chores for non-travel days.

BUCKETS

You’ll need at least one sturdy plastic bucket. I have three. A one-gallon and two two-gallon buckets.

Bucket #1 (two-gallon) is for personal hygiene. It’s surprising how effective and pleasurable a bucket bath can be after a long day of hiking. I also wash clothes in this bucket. Not large pieces, obviously, but T-shirts, underwear, socks, sweaty caps, washcloths and hand towels are easy to soak then swish around in a bucket of soapy water.

If I’m near a city park, in a campground, or in any other place that includes a water spigot, I carry the bucket filled with wet, soapy clothes to the water, rinse everything and place them back inside the bucket. If I’m in a town, I hang everything to dry inside Charlotte. If I’m bookdocking or parked in a campground, I string a line outside or lay the clothes on a picnic table or camp chair.

Bucket #2 (two-gallon) is for washing dishes. It’s also for storing dirty dishes because I only wash them every two or three days. The biggest dishwashing chore happens after I make a crockpot meal.

Bucket #3 (one-gallon) is for rinsing dishes and wiping down the surfaces inside Charlotte with the left-over water.

FOOD

A lot of my meals are actually snacks—nuts, veggies dipped in hummus, jerky, apples, bananas, cheese sticks—none of which require dishes. I’ve also been known to eat a “salad” by alternating between bites of lettuce, carrot, bell pepper, celery, and sprouts. I use my fingers instead of a fork and ditch the bowl. Nothing to wash! I’m lazy that way.

I absolutely do love good food, and I spend a lot of time preparing and eating it when my location includes a kitchen. But I don’t enjoy spending time on unnecessary cleaning when I have to haul water in five-gallon containers that weigh 40 pounds each. When I’m on the road, hikes, bike rides, reading and writing, hanging out with friends, researching my next adventure…pretty much everything is more important to me than washing dishes. I’m not sure what I have against paper cups, bowls and plates, and throw-away plastic utensils. Something to do with the environment. I’m still thinking about that.

CLEANING

Charlotte is a shoes-off van. At least most of her is. My shoes are not off while I’m driving and there’s a small, washable throw rug next to the side door where I step in, sit down, and remove shoes. But all the living space inside the van is bare feet only. That space is also covered with washable rugs, which I often take outside to shake, then run through a washing machine once every three weeks, or so.

As mentioned in the buckets section, I use gray water to wipe things down nearly every day, especially while staying in the desert. Oh, the dust! I also have a container of bleachy wipes and a supply of vinyl gloves.

Self-service car wash places and a bottle of Windex takes care of the outside.

CLOTHES AND SHOES

I packed waaaay too many clothes. I left Montana at the end of November, when it was snowing and zero degrees. So, I needed jackets and sweaters and sweatshirts and scarves and gloves and waterproof boots…all the cold weather stuff. But I really did not need more than one of each of those items. My Fear-of-Being-Cold Gremlin whispered in my ear and now I have a large tote and a duffle bag filled with sweaters and jackets. I also brought too many medium warm and hot weather clothes. My rationale was that I didn’t know exactly what types of clothing I’d need, having never before lived full time in a van. But if you don’t have it with you…better to have too many clothes instead of not having what I need to be comfortable. Right?

I brought a few skirts—OK six or seven—because I thought I might need to dress up for…something, somewhere, sometime. So far, no such occasion has presented itself. But you never know. What I do know is that one skirt would have been enough.

Shirts and jackets for biking—the brightly-colored kind that makes me more visible—seemed essential, too. I had lots of biking shirts and jackets in my drawers and closets, so I just brought them all. Oops.

Shoes for every occasion are in another large tub: hiking boots, dressy boots, walking shoes, gym shoes, dressy sandals, Teva sandals (2 pairs), flip flops (2 pairs), yoga sandals (3 pairs), snow boots (2 pairs), and probably other shoes I can’t remember right now because I haven’t seen them for months since I’ve been wearing the same four pairs of footwear (Tevas, flip flops, hiking boots, gym shoes) from day three, when I was able to stop wearing my snow boots.

All this to say, you probably won’t need as many clothes and shoes as you think you might. Don’t be like me. Pack light.

But then again, if you don’t have it with you…

WHEN IT’S HOT

If there’s no shade available, park your van with the windshield facing the sun. The side of your vehicle, which is basically a long solid slab of absorbent materials, will capture and retain heat. A basket of chocolate bars stored on a shelf on the windowless side of Charlotte melted in their wrappers after I arrived in the desert. Even though outside temps were only in the sixties, that wall collected and held heat like a giant pizza stone.

A reflective cover for your windshield is essential. Leave it in place wherever you aren’t driving to help your van stay cooler. Afternoon sun tends to be the most intense, so I favor parking with the windshield facing west.

PROTECT YOUR PASS

Protect your lifetime or annual parks pass in the same way you’d guard your driver’s license, your passport, and insurance cards. Keep it in your wallet—or whatever storage container you use for money and cards. You’ll have to show your license along with your pass when you enter a park, so keeping them together is a good idea. I recently ditched the plastic rearview mirror hanger that came with my card. Every time I went in or out of a park, I had to take it out and then try to jam it back between the slits while getting the hell out of the way of the vehicle behind me.

After I lost my pass (still attached to the plastic rear view mirror hanger) for a few weeks, then found it, I got smarter. I now keep it safely tucked in next to my driver’s license and AAA insurance card.

Please let me know if you have other suggestions to make van life better for everyone.

And Happy Trails!