Van Life – Yes, it’s Fun but the Challenges are Real

I haven’t posted for over a week, mostly because I’ve been busy having fun. And also, the Mariners. When I have the chance to watch a game, I must. I always think I’ll write during the transitions but c’mon, that’s not enough time to put down a series of sentences that make sense.

So here I am in Utah. It’s my second night and it’s raining, which is just fine because I spent 4+ hours on my bike today riding 45 miles with the sun shining down on me and the temperature just right.

Yesterday I arrived on Antelope Island in the Great Salt Lake. It was about 6:30, so not a lot of time to scope out the area, but it turned into quite an eventful night. I got settled, had dinner and was getting ready to do some writing when I heard someone say my name. I went outside to find the camp hosts doing their rounds and ended up talking with them for quite a while. They were both federal workers, she until June when she was laid off and he until just last week when he was also laid off. The conversation got political pretty quickly and he shared that he had considered running for Congress but had the wrong letter after his name. That was my cue that I didn’t need to tiptoe and I eventually owned up to being one of those “left radical lunatics” from Seattle. It was a fun conversation and I headed into the van to do that writing. I was pretty engrossed in it until I looked up at the ceiling and saw hundreds of mosquitoes flittering around the lights. I panicked. Then I saw even more on my bug screen which meant, since the door was closed, that they were in the van too. I freaked out! I felt like I was in a The Last of Us scene, with the mosquitoes threatening me like the fungi-zombies threaten Joel, Ellie and friends on the regular. I was horrified and desperate as I became aware of the reality that I was at war. As happens in war, I did the dumbest thing I’ve done this first month on the road. I grabbed the bug spray and started spraying the mosquitoes. Inside the closed-up van.

The smell of the bug spray jolted me from my frantic attack mode. I quickly became panicked at the problem I had created. I needed to open the doors to air the place out and get outside to breathe fresh air, but that didn’t seem like an option…only an invitation to more mosquitoes to come on in! I quickly turned on the fan to suck the air outside, briefly stuck my head outside to take some breaths, and then I saw it…my hand-held vacuum. I picked it up, wielding it like the warrior I had become and went at the mosquitoes with a vengeance. The vacuum died pretty quickly, but between it and the bug spray I got the problem under control, even if I created a hazmat situation at the same time. You can be sure that I charged up my vacuum and when the mosquitoes took up residence this evening, I took up the vacuum and had at them.

Last night got even more exciting around midnight. Settled into bed, I woke to the swaying of the van. I was reminded of a bumper sticker I’d seen on campers when I was a kid…if the camper’s a-rockin’, don’t come knockin’. Well, my camper was a-rockin, but not in a good way. It was pouring rain, the wind was howling and I had visions of the van with me inside rolling down the road like a tumbleweed! You might think this was extremely unsettling. I was uneasy for sure, but after the mosquito debacle it felt manageable. I worried about the people one campsite over who were in a tent. I compared the rocking with what it might have felt like if I’d been in the van during the Berkeley earthquake a few weeks ago. I wondered if I was going to get back to sleep again. I did, waking up to an almost-sunny day after a decent night’s sleep.

I want to make a serious point about my experience. I’m living in a van for a year voluntarily. At any time I can return to Seattle and I’ve got people who will let me live with them until I can move back into my condo. One of the things I’ve been hyper aware of is how many people are living in their vans, their cars, broken down rvs not by choice, but because it’s the best option they have. They don’t have the luxury of staying in an Airbnb for a few days, like I just did when my friend Lynne met up with me in Ketchum. They don’t have the ability to pay for a campsite that has a bathroom and sometimes even a shower. They may not have the money they need to refill their propane tank, or to buy food they enjoy, or to gas up when they need to drive. They have to figure out where they can get water and use the bathroom without feeling humiliated.

Seattle has a huge housing crisis and people are suffering. I’m a pretty empathetic person, but at times I’ve felt fed up, hopeless about a solution, angry that there’s trash piling up and intolerant of people living out in the open, their lives on display for all to see. I always come back to the root of the problem – an economic system that simply isn’t working for all – and my compassion returns. With all the privilege I’ve brought into my temporary van life, the picture of what it might be like for those without other options has become a little clearer. I don’t know how we get to where we need to be, but we’ve gotta get there. The people of Seattle and King County have a lot of money. It’s time to do the right thing and tap into the wealth to solve the problem of housing. We’ll all be better off when we do.