What were you thinking?!
Journal Entry #2
July 25, 2021
A very good question, friends.
What inspired and motivated our decision to build a camper van and spend a year on the road? We’ve noticed that reactions to our plans fall into two distinct camps. The first camp is “WOW! That’s amazing! I would love to wander around in a van for a while. So excited for you!” The second camp is “Wow. That’s, well… a little crazy, a bit edgy and out there… (you have seen Nomadland, haven’t you?) Are you sure?”
To explain why we have decided to embark on a life on the road, I think it’s best to back up before moving forward. (Fair warning: this entry is a longer one. I promise that they won’t all be this long. But I do think a bit of “preamble” will help set the stage for entries to come.)
I identify as a creative. Someone who connects deeply with art, music and the written word. I see myself as a seeker of experiences and a wanderer. I feel most alive when I am exploring. When I left college with my newly minted (completely esoteric) BA in Asian Studies, I accepted a banking/finance job in New York City. I knew absolutely nothing about banking or finance. I had no firm thoughts about a career at all, and certainly not in banking. Why did I take this job? It was the pull of where the job was – the energy of the NYC and the prospect of international travel. This was, in and of itself, an adventure.
I was a really good chameleon in my professional life. I managed to achieve success in a more traditional (and better paying) “marketing” career. That said, I have always thought of myself as an artist/writer and dreamed of a more alternative existence. I always felt that I was playing a “role” at work; that my professional persona wasn’t exactly the real me nor was the career I ended up in what I imagined I would be doing. I sort of fell into it. On the other hand, there I was, in New York City in the go-go 90’s with decent money to boot! I enjoyed living in Brooklyn and taking full advantage of what was on offer. There was always something to see, do, or experience.
My work life and my personal life intersected. I married a banker-type colleague soon after moving to NYC. We have our first daughter. We buy a brownstone in Brooklyn. I start my own consulting firm. We get two dogs. Eventually we move from NYC to the leafy New Jersey suburbs. We buy a big yellow house with a front porch. We have a second daughter. We own two cars. The trajectory is classic Normal Rockwell. Still, every so often, I feel that internal pang. I pursue important creative outlets to try to stay true to myself; I build a pottery studio. I exit professional jobs and I start new ones. Even so, I am lulled into a sort of sleepwalking-in-the-suburbs kind of thing. I think to myself, “life is really good.” And it was. But I occasionally muse to myself that there will be time, at some as-yet-unknown point in the future, to realize some of those other dreams that will feel more like me. And so, many years pass.
In 2009, a major thunderclap. After 18 years my marriage comes to a dramatic and unexpected end. I go through a messy divorce. I’m 42. In 2010, after a year of rough seas emotionally, the storm subsides. As I awaken, the picture becomes clear. Somewhere along the way during those years between my 20’s and my 40’s, I had completely lost myself. I need to get back to the “me” that makes sense. I need to nurture my creative, adventuring, alternative, artist self. (Yep, this is sort of midlife crisis-new age-y stuff but completely true.)
Surviving this sudden and radical life change helped me grow stronger and question my choices. I was willing to take more risks. I began to find my way back to being more authentically me. Instead of buying another home, I rented a small ranch in my neighborhood (a 1000 sq. ft cottage– which was especially tiny by fancy NYC suburb standards) with E and H. The next seven years in that little cottage on Brook Lane were very happy years. It was during those years that I rediscovered making art and the thrill of enjoying live music, I rediscovered that I could love and be loved. I pursued an advanced wine certification (just because I could) and it made me happy. I wrote. I made new friends and connected with old ones.
Perhaps one of the most important lessons I took away from those years was that I found joy in living very small - realized I needed much less than I thought I did. I loved the great freedom it gave me. It reminded me of one of my core values: experiences over things.
Now, there were practical matters. I still I lived in one of the most expensive areas in the country and needed to raise my daughters and get them through school. I continued to work and ended up with a solid career in non-profit management. But work mostly served to pay the rent and keep the kids in the neighborhood schools. I still felt drawn to another kind of life and now I was free to begin to realize it. So I fantasized about what I would do next. Some of my dreams included moving to a tiny house in upstate NY and working for one of the Finger Lakes wineries, doing more writing and setting up a pottery studio. Another was opening a food truck and traveling to the wineries or following music festivals in the area. I spent time working the harvest at one of the wineries up in the Finger Lakes and made friends with wine makers in that area. I went to lots of live music concerts everywhere. I cooked, made pots and painted. I started my wine blog, www.amieswinehouse.com. I felt that once the girls were off to college, I would be ready to make a big life change. During this time, I also reconnected with and married an old friend and sweetheart, Tom.
Enter Tom: Tom studied mechanical engineering at college. Growing up, he was always a tinkerer and builder (think: fixing up cars and bicycles). He also happens to be a fine woodworker and craftsman. Outside of China (where he lived for three years as an expat) he always had a home wood shop. He actually designed and built his family’s home when he lived in Michigan. Our dining room has the solid Maple table and chairs that he made. Most of his working life has been in white collar corporate management roles with exciting(!) titles like “Key Accounts Executive” for large global manufacturing companies. He worked for Dow Chemical for 25 years. He, too, was successful in his professional life. And, like me, he viewed it as means to an end rather than a labor of love. What he really enjoys is making things with his hands and spending time outdoors. He fantasizes about being a handyman/fix it guy, whether it’s “honey-do” house projects for people in the community, or the local bike repair expert or being a fine carpenter for hire.
Early on in our relationship we found that we both had an abiding fascination with the concept of tiny homes. Pre-pandemic, we talked seriously about buying some land (in upstate NY, naturally) and building a tiny home out of used shipping containers. I imagined a small home overlooking water or mountains where I could pot and paint. A room with a view. Tom loved the engineering challenge that it would present. We mulled this project over for while (stay tuned- this project may still be in our future!) However, over time, our thoughts shifted. Both of us are avid hikers, bikers, adventurers, lovers of good food, wine and music. We found our way to the idea of a tiny, MOVING, home. Why have just one beautiful view? Why not experience many views? Why not take our home with us and venture out, at least for a while?
So, we took a deep dive into researching the world of ‘mobile homes’ and considered everything from remodeling a school bus (“skoolie living”) to remodeling a horse trailer into a home and pulling it behind us. Eventually, we landed on van life and taking on a full van conversion.
We thought if there was ever a time to take on a project and an adventure like this, it would be best to do it when our kids are mostly launched… and also while we’re still young enough to be capable of maximizing the experience; to be able hike and bike and kayak and manage the physical challenges of the build and of being on the road.
Of course, the pandemic accelerated our thinking and our plans. As you all know, everyone’s world got smaller. We ventured out less. We missed family and friends. We acutely missed concerts, food with friends and family. Exploring new places. Connection with people. When we made the decision to buy and build our van, we did it with the thought that the pandemic might possibly go on for a while. We thought to ourselves,
“Well, if we want to see friends and family and explore people and places, this would be a safe a way to do it. We could spend time outside doing things we love. We could travel to visit people we miss and meet them outside. Our home would allow us to be flexible. We could stay in a friend’s a driveway, or a campground, or “boondock” out on public lands.”
The pandemic accelerated our plans in other ways too. Many of you know, I lost my job in mid-2020. While we were already looking at late 2021 as the year we would likely cut the cord on our work lives (this was our plan even before the pandemic hit), the extra time I had available at the end of 2020 was as good a time as any to research, make decisions and start the planning process. Tom decided that after over 30 years in corporate life, he would call it quits in mid-2021. It would be the perfect time for an adult gap year to hit the road and try something completely new.
We also agreed that if we seek work again after this adventure (which is entirely likely), we will both pursue work that is more aligned with our dreams. To do so, we realize that we will have to live smaller. Living smaller means saying goodbye to the South Orange/Maplewood/NYC area.
(As an aside, more to come in a future blog about leaving dear friends and my community here in NJ -- this is a place that has been my physical, social and emotional home for over 20 years. I am still sorting through my thoughts on this significant shift.)
So, while we are heading out on the road for a significant period of time, we do have what I will call a ‘security blanket.’ We own a small house that we will return to when we decide we want a more “stationary” life again. It’s an 1890’s clapboard farmhouse, not much bigger than the little cottage I rented on Brook Lane, in downtown Ithaca, NY (not far from the Finger Lakes which we love). We have tenants in the house for the next year or so. Ithaca has the right vibe for us. It’s a college town with a great art, food, wine and craft beer scene and great access to outdoor activities that make us happy. A slower pace and a lower cost of living means we can pursue projects and work that interests us. But that’s later. Back to the van…
From the start, it was clear we wanted to build our van ourselves. Or, at least it was clear to Tom, who was itching for a hands-on project! And though this project was not going to be inexpensive, our sweat equity was cheaper than the alternative. Companies like Winnebago are now selling tricked out adventure camper vans ranging from $100,000 to $300,000. With the pandemic in full force and with so much time at home, we spent hours researching various designs and exploring many DIY custom builds to learn as much as we could. We outlined our specific list of ‘need to haves’ and ‘nice to haves’. We drew pictures, mapped out our design ideas, considered pros and cons of various systems and layouts and then started to craft our dream vehicle in earnest. It started with biting the bullet and purchasing a new 2020 Ford Transit 350 XLT cargo van in October of 2020. Our shiny silver van - really just a big empty metal box - was delivered as a New Year’s present to us in January 2021. We even started ordering parts for our build in the winter of 2020 in anticipation of getting the build underway as soon as we took possession of the van. It’s a good thing we bought the van when we did and ordered supplies and parts early. The RV and camper van market was (and still remains) very brisk and supply chains were significantly disrupted due to the pandemic. It turns out 2021 Ford Transits released in November of 2021 were back ordered 9-12 months. (Here’s the van on the night it was delivered. We are proud parents!)
But I digress. More on our van checklist and an overview of the build in another blog entry.
Our decision to try van life plays to our different strengths. I bring vision, intuition, an aesthetic sensibility and creative (sometimes outlandish) ideas to the table; Tom is wicked smart and brings analytical acuity, tactical thinking and practical problem solving to match. Tom is the master of all things technical and mechanical; plumbing, electric, heating, cooling, power, cabinetry, you name it. He loves the challenge of building things and making them work. I am the master of the concept, the vision, and the aesthetic— how we design the van to feel like a “home” (in 110 sq. feet!) I am also our travel planner, people connector and “experience curator” - finder of all the things to do, places to see, food and drink to try, music to hear and adventures to explore. It is energizing to accomplish this plan together. We appreciate the skills we each bring to the table. In a way, we act as each other’s muse. I anticipate this ‘mutual appreciation’ will serve us well on the road especially when things aren’t easy or fun. I would also say that working towards a van life “launch” was one of the ways we chose to cope with and remain positive about the past surreal 18 months. LIFE IS SHORT. We knew that we couldn’t control the path of the pandemic but we could be intentional in our plans, we could be fully ourselves, and we could choose our own unique path forward.
I hope this gives you some insight into how we came to our decision to embark on this adventure. Of course, we hope you are in the camp of people who are reading this entry and thinking “Wow! This is amazing.” If, however, you happen to be in the camp of “Wow, this seems a bit crazy and a little out there,” we completely understand. The truth is, we are little bit crazy. It’s one thing to contemplate the idea of living in a van for a year. But it does take certain amount of courage, commitment and craziness to actually see it through. Onward!
So excited to see the finished product & hear more about adventures once you hit the road!