Author: kmayo8

  • Entering my #vanlife era

    Entering my #vanlife era

    It’s official… I’m a #vanlifer now. My time as a “real” dirtbag is done! After a year and a half living out of my CRV full time, I’m in a nice van now.

    It’s super comfy by comparison, and I still most of the benefits of being a car-lifer, such as living in deeper connection with nature, a sleep schedule attuned to the sun, and a life organized around getting outdoors. Some things are different, like for example it’s more difficult to parallel park, and gas is more expensive, but I wouldn’t go back because the benefits outweigh the drawbacks for me.

    In October, the temps at night started to drop and I was not excited about another winter of “roughing it” in sub-freezing temps without a proper heater.

    I really wanted to be able to take better care of myself and have more energy for things besides just existing. I felt I had earned my stripes and it was time for an upgrade, so I started actually figuring out how to acquire a van.

    There are two main options when you’re considering van life, and my friends all had opinions. The options are 1) DIY or 2) buy. Within the buy option, you can buy new or used, get one made bespoke, or buy one off the shelf.

    It was going to be a trade up no matter what because the CRV life is so basic. My main wish list features for my van were: 1) heat, 2) being able to cook indoors when weather is bad, 3) being able to work and take private calls from my own space.

    I did consider a DIY build first, because my bar was pretty low and i have many friends who thought I’d be able to do it no problem. But a big driver for getting a van was giving the ol’ nervous system a break finally… and trying to learn to build a van sounded stressful. After a bit of stress spiraling trying to decide whether to DIY or buy, I made up some math (versus renting) to justify an already built out van purchase.

    I started looking for builders. And there are so, so many van builders. For me two big things drove the selection.

    First, I was starting to freeze my forehead off in the cold nights, so this was urgent and that pushed me to search for off the shelf, rather than bespoke options. Most van builders had 3 month or longer wait times for custom builds, so it was off the table for me.

    A second factor that narrowed conversion companies was that I wanted a brand new chassis for my off the shelf van. I don’t know how to evaluate a used car and it felt overwhelming. Again, a major goal was to relax a bit more and take care of myself… overwhelm was not a good option for me. So, I browsed companies that had new van builds off the shelf.

    I was lucky to have found Dave & Matt vans, based out of Rifle, CO. They do quite a bit of volume, and were super helpful throughout the process. They’re used to climber builds, and had everything I needed.

    The only thing I really wish I had is AWD for snowy days, but that’s for a future build. I could remove the AC and still be quite happy. I tend to go up to higher altitudes when it’s hot anyway.

    Life has a funny way of teaching us things working itself out. I got interested in #vanlife back in 2018 and it was so far from anything I knew personally that it was hard to imagine actually pulling the trigger. I was still trying to fit myself into the box of expectations handed to me by society.

    Despite the distance from my personal circumstances back in 2018, I somehow knew van life was for me, even then, from my comfy studio apartment in downtown DC. It turned out my self knowledge was accurate, I just didn’t have the gall to trust my gut and jump off that particular cliff back then. But I do now, and it turns out that van life suits me after all.

  • Dirtbagging. Living the cozy #crvlife

    Dirtbagging. Living the cozy #crvlife

    car with mountains

    For the better part of the past 1 year, I’ve been living in my 2011 Honda CRV. I’m a climbing dirtbag. At the start of my dirtbag era, I kept my apartment, because I thought this era would quickly end. But I have quickly made it a comfortable lifestyle. After not visiting the apartment for months at a time, I decided to get rid of the home base all together and opt for a PO Box instead. The car is pretty cozy, and when I did visit the apartment I suffered from terrible insomnia. In retrospect, the choice was obvious, but there was lots of turmoil involved in making the decision, which I addressed in a post on TinyBuddha. Here, I’m focusing on how I managed to get so cozy living the #crvlife.

    Building out the CRV:

    1. Remove Seats: This era of CRV has back seats that do not fold flat. I took out the passenger side and attached middle seat to have space for my bed platform. Initially I left them in, but its much better without them in terms of storage and stability.
      • It’s pretty straightforward to remove the seats once you pop off the plastic bolt covers. There are 4 bolts and you need a socket wrench to undo them. The seats are quite heavy also. I saved the bolts and used them to attach my sleeping platform.
    2. Sleeping setup: This is basically the only “build” I actually did. I sleep with my head toward the front of the car and prop the passenger seat forward when I sleep so I can dangle my feet.
      • Materials:
        • sheet of plywood – standard size, composite because it’s less splintery
        • 4×4 – 12′
        • 1×1 – 12′
        • package of screws & corresponding bit
        • drill
        • L shaped metal brackets
        • straight metal brackets
        • wood glue
        • the bolts I unscrewed
        • socket wrench
      • Platform: I had home depot cut my plywood to size. For me that was 70″ long and 26″ wide. When I got it home, I cut a diagonal corner for the back passenger side of the platform, so it could be propped up on the lip of the wheel well (this is one “leg” of the bed).
      • Framing: For sturdiness, I added two strips of 1×1 framing along each long side of the bed platform. I attached it with screws and wood glue.
      • Front Legs: The front “legs” were made from one solid block of wood. I used 24″ cuts of my 4×4 and stacked them on top of one another, attaching them together with straight metal brackets and wood glue to one another. Then I attached them to the car with the L brackets, straight brackets, and bolts from the seat removal. This block of wood is not at the end of the plywood, it’s around a foot or so in from the edge, and supports the shoulder area of the sleeping platform. I attached the platform to the front “legs” with L brackets and screws. and attaches to the 1×1 framing with L brackets.
      • Back Legs: The back “legs” are each done pretty differently. The outside edge rests on top of the car itself. For me, that provided the most snug fit, and most space underneath the platform for storage. For the other back leg, I used the remainder of the 4×4 piece, it’s just under 12″. I attached it to the framing using L brackets. It’s very sturdy and falls around mid-calf, rather than at the very back of the platform. That allows me access to the things under it more conveniently.
      • Comfiness: I use a 6′ piece of 4″ upholstery foam from JoAnn fabric as my mattress. I put a sleeping pad on top of that for warmth. Then I use a 0 F sleeping bag and a wool blanket on top of that in winter.
    3. Electricity & warmth: I use a Jackery and a heating pad when it gets below 30 F. I just use a small battery to charge my phone at night and I get about 2 nights off a charge. I have a solar lantern for when it gets dark and I want to read. But typically I sleep when the sun says it’s time.
    4. Curtains: I don’t use them! I can cover a window or two if needed with a towel, but I normally camp in rural places rather than in town. Plus, without curtains you can see the stars better 🙂
    5. Storage: A roof rack is in my future. But for now it all fits inside. Food in the driver’s side back footwell. Crash pad next to bed, clothing in bags under that. Climbing & camping gear under the bed. Toiletries, coats, water and electronics under the passenger back footwell. And miscellaneous in front seat.
    parked somewhere good

    Living on the Road:

    Budgeting and Finance:

    1. Frugal Living: I keep expenses low. Most of my costs are health insurance and food. Climbing is free.
    2. Food: I use the Eureka Spark single burner camp stove and I cook a lot of simple, repetitive things. Protein bread + avo + egg = chef’s kiss. One pro of living in your car in winter is that you don’t need to buy ice or anything if it’s cold out and food stays good for a long time.
    3. Passes and Permits: I normally sleep on BLM land, which I find via Gaia, but I also have a national parks pass.

    Hygiene and Comfort:

    laundry
    1. Shower Solutions: It depends on location
      • I belong to Planet Fitness, which works great in bigger cities. Plus you can sleep in the parking lot if needed.
      • Hostels and gas stations often have showers for a fee, which is convenient.
      • An occassional hotel night comes in handy to recharge, refill, and shower all at once.
      • In between showers, I jump in lakes/rivers.
      • If I’m not showering that day, I wipe down sweaty areas with antibacterial wipes (not baby wipes). Antibacterial wipes keep bacteria levels down on the skin, which is what causes BO.
    2. Laundry: Laundromats can be a great place to get wifi and stay warm if it’s chilly on a winter evening.

    Safety and Security:

    1. Knowledge: I try to stay in places I know and if I’m going somewhere new I arrive in daylight and camp with friends if possible. I always give myself permission to leave an area at any point and I try to have a backup plan if I’m sleeping somewhere I’ve never been.
    2. Vehicle Maintenance: I get regular car checkups. That said, I’ve popped a couple tires on dirt roads at this point, so it helps to be prepared. I check to make sure my spare is inflated, plus I’m a AAA member, and I have a portable air pump and some patching spray for temporary fixes.
    3. Security: I don’t keep valuables in my car, but I do always lock my car and keep things out of sight.

    So far, the #crvlife has been good to me. It’s hard to believe a year passed this quickly. It has made me realize how little I really need to feel at home and happy.

  • The carbon footprint of an existential crisis

    The carbon footprint of an existential crisis

    I was laid off earlier this year, along with 60%+ of the company, from a job I enjoyed but found chaotic. The day I was laid off, I added sticky notes to my wall with ideas on how to spend my time. Then I got in the car and drove 5 hours north to Mammoth Lakes, CA to go skiing. I realized that I wanted to use the time to be outside and explore personal interests, while I job hunted for a better fit.

    I still wanted structure though, so I built my own personal outdoor curriculum: Single Pitch Instructor certification, Wilderness First Responder cert, plus a climate change fellowship with Terra.do.

    I also traveled and climbed. For my first major roadtrip I drove from LA to Texas for an AAC Volunteer Summit at Hueco Tanks Rock Ranch. Then I briefly came back to LA before beginning another road trip to Canada. All in my little 2011 Honda CRV. I built out the back of my car into the coziest car camping setup I could build. I feel very at home there, despite my VA plates indicating that I am quite far from home here on the West Coast.

    There were a lot of ups and downs along the way, and I’m still a little up and a little down about it even after the fact. Regardless, I learned a lot trying to figure out where I fit in, in life, in climbing, and in my career, all while living out of my car. Big takeaways:

    1. I prefer to avoid crowds
    2. I spend a lot of time in front of a computer

    I want to immortalize this time in my car by writing down my experiences as some kind of public diary with the target audience of future me.

    My trip spanned desert and alpine environments, and I saw (at least) 14 National Parks, 2 National Monuments, 15 National Forests, 2 State Parks, countless wilderness and conservation areas. I truthfully lost count. All this I did in a car that takes 89.

    So is it ironic that I did this at a time when I was diving deeper into climate change? What was my carbon footprint on this trip and was it more or less than my usual apartment life? According to carbonfootprint.com my make/model/year emitted 2.1 metric tons of carbon for the 3 months I lived out of my car (~7,500 miles). Usually, my life emits around 13,148 lbs of CO2 according to the EPA calculator and that’s all inclusive, including my driving/traveling. That means that for 3 months, it would’ve been about 3,287 lbs CO2 if I had stayed home.

    While I’m a bit down that my impact was so much greater during the summer roadtrip, I think there is value in learning too. It’s hard to figure out the appropriate tradeoffs – how much personal growth and learning is 1 ton of CO2 worth? And who gets to decide? Of course, I remained committed to some of the individual actions I have already incorporated into my life: practicing vegetarianism, recycling, using reusable containers, reducing my consumerism. But the personal journey I went on this summer also made me more keen to get involved on a systemic level, and to make climate a stakeholder in organizational decisions I have the privilege to be part of. I’m doing it imperfectly, but I’m showing up, so I can be optimistic about that.

    Road trip 1: LA <> Texas

    Road trip 2: LA <> Canada

  • My first “epic”

    My first “epic”

    The day ended with me hallucinating. Oh, and it lasted a full 24 hours.

    As two parties of two, we successfully summited the Grand Teton via the Full Exum Ridge route.

    We slept for a few hours in our cars at the base of the trailhead and my partner and I set off around 3am. I’m a bit of a slow hiker when much weight and/or elevation gain is involved, so I wanted to get going. But we decided to wait for the other two members of our party where the trail forks, but the fork wasn’t very far in, so the head start didn’t help much. And my hiking speed wound up not being a limiting factor, thankfully.

    We got lost on the skree field on the way to the lower saddle, both on the way up and the way down. On the way up, we came upon one of the guide tents, which was occupied, so they gave us directions to the lower saddle. They also gave us cheese, which was fantastic.

    At the lower saddle, water was flowing through a little pipe, so we filled up, put our packs in bear containers, and got ready for a long day ahead.

    The Lower Exum is the “harder” climbing and Upper is mostly just scrambling (5.7). I started with the chimney pitch which went quickly and we made good progress, despite a left turn I made with my route finding, which made pitch 3 a bit more difficult and rope draggy than necessary.

    All was going relatively well until roughly the end of the Lower Exum, when I curled into the fetal position, head in hands, miserable. I had no clue what was going on, but I felt like death and had no energy. It turns out waking up at 2:30am and doing 7k vert and then going climbing… is taxing on the body. Plus it was my first mission of this magnitude so I had no idea what to expect. Luckily my partner, Sam, explained that I was bonking and needed carbs. My sandwich fixed me right up, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t cry. He was thoroughly entertained and I have pictures to commemorate the occasion.

    Once we got to the upper section, we were able to simul the majority of the climbing. There was more crying… but not because I wasn’t enjoying myself. I think my body was just so fully worn out, and we were waiting for our friends, and I just broke down. Plus I was climbing with an ex-bf, which had it’s own emotions wrapped up in it LOL. We were still on good enough terms to go climbing together though.

    The top was pretty snowy, and we were blessed with beautiful still weather and clear skies. We summited as the sun was beginning to go down, around 7:45. As a gumby for this magnitude of climb, it didn’t register in my brain until then that we were only halfway. After the other party of two friends arrived at the top, and after taking some summit selfies, we began our descent. The rappels were fine, but navigating the skree with a backpack made me think my legs were going to give out. I was genuinely concerned I’d fall and hurt myself. I started to fall behind the boys. And it started to get dark.

    We arrived back at the saddle around 11pm, cold and wrecked. We huddled in the bivy spot for a little while deciding what to do. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get warm, which meant I wouldn’t sleep, which meant hiking out the next day would be even harder. So I voted to descend. And they ultimately agreed.

    That’s when we got lost again in the skree, in the dark. And there isn’t much of a trail in the skree, plus our headlamps only went so far. We could hear rockfall, which was a bit alarming. I was also worried about grizzlies. But with short rests and some navigation issues we made it back to the main trail.

    We started seeing folks beginning their ascent… and they seemed like figments of my imagination. I felt like a zombie. After a few more miles, I started to hallucinate. I saw little leprechauns in the forest, little owl families, ghosts, and bears. I was quite tired. Somehow the trail down seemed to continue forever, around another switchback, down another fork. I felt fully dissociated like I did not exist. My legs kept going though, just very slowly.

    Back at camp, my mind was running on fumes and I found it difficult to fall asleep. Eventually I got a few hours of sleep, then I went to Whole Foods and met the boys at Jenny Lake for a bath. I was grateful for the team, my partner, and the weather on the adventure.

    If I were to do it again, I’d bring more layers and more carbs. Oh and I’d start earlier.