#Vanlife Ain’t All It’s Cracked Up to Be

I moved into my converted sprinter van on 9/28/19, leaving my cushy one-bedroom apartment behind to simplify my life and live in a van. The plan is to get back to the basics and remind myself to be grateful for all I have. I’ve lived in Northern California for 6 ½ years working hard as a pediatric nurse getting paid very well. There are so many things I have taken for granted because of this and many things I’ve utterly enjoyed. I’ve reached a turning point in my career where I am beyond burnt out and need to figure something else out. It feels like my job is slowly sucking the life out of me. This is due to many factors, mainly 11 ½ years as a pediatric nurse, I’ve seen a lot. My heart doesn’t have any room left, nor my brain any more room for patient stories. I’ve used up all I’ve got and it’s time to find out what’s next.

The van is the first step to that. I moved in and adapted well. It was better than I had expected. I was finding places to park, getting used to showering at the gym, enjoying my downtime in the van.  It became an adventure as I began getting my bearings. Going to the library again (for free wifi), I hadn’t been to a library since college, cooking dinner in the parking lot of the grocery store, fielding the looks from people as I do so. I was proud of myself for actually doing this and putting in all the work to make this van life happen.

Fast forward to Thursday October 10^th. I woke up early, made some coffee, turned on some tunes, and started organizing my van. I’d been in it a week and a half and although things were going well, there were some things that needed rearranging as they were beginning to drive me nuts. I had extra wood scraps piled in a storage bin in prime space that could be utilized for things I’d actually use. Some of my clothes were stored in the headliner shelf (shelf above driver and passenger seats) and needed to be better arranged. I had leftover baking supplies that I had to move multiple times a day. I got to work and got all of this squared away in not much time at all. Wow! Way to be productive first thing in the morning, I thought. What else can I get done today?

The night before while doing the dishes I realized that my grey water tank was pretty much full. The grey water tank holds used water from the sink used to clean dishes, brush my teeth as well as dump dirty water. I had previously used up one of my clean water jugs so I was expecting this to be full, but maybe not so soon. I hadn’t emptied it anywhere but my old apartment and honestly didn’t know where I could empty it. I did some research and found a place. In the meantime, I converted one of my empty clean water jugs into another dirty one. Crisis averted, for now. I knew I needed to find a place and establish a routine when it came to dumping my grey water and my black water. Black water is from my porta potty. I have a porta potty I only use in the morning or at night, otherwise I try my best to utilize restrooms at the gym, yoga, work, or anywhere one is available.

Thursday after getting things organized and taking a minute to enjoy what I’d accomplished I started driving towards the dump station. All was going fine, traffic was surprisingly moving along well, a rarity in the Bay Area, I was jamming on some tunes, and really looking forward to figuring this part of van life out. Its one I was least excited about, dumping waste water, not the most glamourous part, but necessary nonetheless.

I hear a beep, my check engine light flashes, but then it stops. The van is driving fine, I don’t feel any changes, and this thing definitely has some quirks I’ve gotten used to. I just didn’t think much of it. I exit the freeway with no issues until I come to a stop sign. Once I’m stopped I start to smell something. What is that? It kind of smells like oil. I go to accelerate and it doesn’t have much give, but does go and I pull out into a lane. Then I see smoke and the van won’t accelerate at all anymore. I barely find a place to pull over and once I do it is blocking someone’s driveway. I turn the van off in hopes that once I turn it back on all things will be better. No luck. I’m essentially stuck at this point. I know in my gut that something big is wrong with the van and feel my stomach drop.

This is my home, my only vehicle, my everything right now. This is my ticket to the next phase in my life, my way out of this life that no longer makes me happy. Why is this happening? I had it checked just last week and all things were a go according to the mechanic. FUCK!

I texted the mechanic asking if I could get it towed to him. He was driving into the shop as they hadn’t even opened yet. It was all of 8:15 am on a Thursday morning. He said it was fine to tow it there and he’d see me soon. I called a tow and then waited.

The tow company came and took what seemed like forever to get things in order. Once dropped off at the auto shop, even the shop owner stated how slow the tow company was. The shop owner, Riyo, looked at the van even while it was still hitched to the tow truck and was really hopeful it wasn’t that bad. He thought it might even be ready for me to take later that afternoon. So I waited while they worked on it.

An hour turned into 2, then 3. I’d had coffee around 7 am and hadn’t had more than a banana to eat. I was nauseous from the stress of the whole thing, but it was now 2:30 in the afternoon and I knew I had to eat something. Riyo let me get into the van so I could make myself some lunch, he still had no outcome of the van, but should soon. Not much later I was told it wouldn’t be ready today.

Thankfully, I had already contacted a friend/coworker that had previously offered me a place to stay. She picked me up and consoled me as my future hung in the balance with the van out of commission. This is #vanlilfe? I thought. This sucks!

I am grateful to have people I can count on in times like this, but I also have lived alone and taken care of myself for so long that I really hate relying on others kindness and generosity. This is something I would offer, but to receive it is foreign to me.

The next day I hear from the shop owner and turns out my suspicion was correct; the transmission is out. This means the van will be out of commission for at least 2 weeks, maybe more. FUCK! What am I going to do without my home/vehicle/everything for 2+ weeks? I started to shut down. I knew this was likely. I even knew this was a possibility when I bought the van, but I took the gamble anyways.

I called upon my friend again and she was there to save the day yet again. She picked me up at the auto shop, many bags in my hands, and took me in to her home with welcoming arms. I am so grateful to have people like her in my life.

I’m homeless. Wow! Never thought I’d say that. Where will I stay? Her brother is coming into town in a few days and she lives in a studio, so definitely need to find a place. Should I uber/lyft everywhere or rent a car? Where can I put all my stuff? Shit, I’m supposed to be in Yosemite next week, it’ll be too cold without the van. I really needed that solace and peace right now, I’m so overdue for time off work, peace and nature. These are the wonderful thoughts that went through my head as my friend and I drove away from the auto shop.

It’s a crazy thing to be forced to rely on others when you aren’t used to doing so. I was able to rent a car at a reasonable and discounted rate because of someone the auto shop owner knows. I have an anesthesiologist I work with that has offered me his home up north many times and it just happened to be open next week/end while I have time off. It may not be Yosemite, but it is an incredible place for peace, quiet and nature, and it’s also free. My friend told me I can stay at her place once her brother leaves which times out perfectly from when I’ll get back from up north. So I really only have a couple days I need to figure out where to stay and another friend said I could stay with her and her family. How did I get so lucky to have such wonderful people in my life?

Sometimes we have to give into what’s happening whether we like it or not. I was so negative and down once my van broke down. I could barely crack a smile at work as I was just trying to hang on and get through my shift without losing it altogether. I felt numb and hopeless instead of having faith that all would be ok.

I had tickets to see Michael Franti and Spearhead Friday night. He’s someone that I have seen many times and am always uplifted and inspired after seeing. That most definitely was the case here too. He reminded me to be optimistic rather than cynical. We have that choice and I had chosen cynicism rather than optimism the last couple days. That’s on me. Many of his songs talk about how as bad as the world can be sometimes, we have the choice to be grateful, optimistic, and spread that around. Everyone is going through something and we all need to understand that as we are all human. Somehow in all of this, I had forgotten that.

I received so much positivity from him and it completely turned around my Friday. I am somewhat ashamed at how I’ve acted when things don’t go my way lately. I think “why me?” “poor me” “why can’t things go my way?” After seeing him and listening to his messages I’m starting to think. “Things are going my way, this is just a hurdle I need to jump first” Things really aren’t that bad. I have a warm and inviting place to stay, I have money in the bank, I have a great job, and I have friends that are willing to help when I’m in need.

Although #vanlife ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, it is pushing me in ways I know I need to be pushed. It’s forcing me to learn how to receive help instead of always being the one giving help. It’s forcing me to simplify in numerous ways. Learning to be flexible and relinquish control throughout different areas in my life. Instead of “poor me” I should be proud that I’m standing where I am today and I’m strong enough to continue to do so, even when things don’t go my way.