Adventure: Van Questions

Last year felt a little bit like Band of Horses. Music I like but not something I would listen to if I was thinking of knocking off the local Kwik-E-Mart. This year, however, feels a bit more like Motorhead, or perhaps even more so, Ronny James Dio. The initial taste of 2024 has a distinct flavor of change. Three months in and all systems are firing. The creative V12 is humming. My hook kick has extra snap on it, and I’ve been focusing on neck and forearms at the gym. The only question that remains is, what’s next?

This past weekend, I was able to get out both days. The wifey poo is out of town. Check. The weather was working in my favor. Check. And I have a new full-on, full-tilt project that is keeping me up at night because I’m so jazzed by the challenge of it all. Check. I headed north in the trusty van. A fancy two gun rig on my hip. Bag-o-Nikon and bag-o-Fuji. I forgot the CF express card for the Fuji which rendered the great beast mute, but I still carried it around to impress the locals who snapped out of their professional level littering campaign the second I walked by. The thought bubbles above their heads filled with things like, “Is that an XH2 or XH2s and why choose one over the other?”

The van is a magnet.

The van attracts the best and worst the world has to offer. If you drive a van you must be prepared to give van tours because everyone wants one of the damn things. I’ve mentioned this before but I believe the van is NOT the thing. The van is the thing that gets you to the thing. Like focusing on your camera as you walk around the world bumping into things. If you focus too much on the van you are missing the point of where the van will take you and the experience of getting there and back.

I’ve driven this sleek and sexy beast for nearly four years, and I’ve learned a thing or two, so I thought it appropriate to answer a few of the repeat questions I’ve received. Some of these have reared their ugly head at least one hundred times, maybe more. And let’s start with a bonus piece of advice.

Don’t put all terrain tires on your van. They look cool but you don’t need them and they will sap your power, mileage, and eventually develop road howl when they begin to wear unevenly. (Unless you are the 5% who ACTUALLY do serious off roading.) Try something snow peak rated but more road orientated. You will see a significant increase in mileage, drivability, longevity and noise.

1. Is that a Sprinter van? No, it’s not a Sprinter van. Not all vans are Sprinter vans. It’s a Dodge Promaster 1500, which is half the price to buy, service and maintain. In addition, the van is square which means the interior build is more usable. I can have the van serviced in nearly any small town ,and it does not require a certified technician to work on it. Not to mention, the particulate in diesel is highly carcinogenic. And as we all know, I’m a climate warrior and would never do anything to harm my fellow man…………..
2. Where is the bathroom? There is no bathroom. I have a portable camp toilet which sounds completely traumatic, and it is, but if you are spending more than 20% of your entire day on the toilet, you have bigger problems. Not to mention, if your first question about the van is “Where is the toilet,” then you, most likely, are not meant for vanlife. However, you might be perfectly suited to RV-life. Just get yourself a green jumpsuit with patches and prepare to brave the official campground bathroom which will strike fear in the most hardened criminal. I’d give you the launch codes before venturing into one of those. And remember, once you fill your portable toilet bag, just think about how much fun it is to throw it out the window at high speed. (see disclaimer below)
3. What gas mileage does it get? Great question, and the answer might surprise you. As of 61,000 miles, my average MPG is just over 20. This might not seem like much, but remember, I live in the mountains and the van is typically fully loaded. I’ve made numerous cross country drives with a full van and a motorcycle on the rear hitch, so 20MPG is stellar in my mind. Better than my old Tacoma, my brothers’ Tundra and a host of other gas hogs.
4. It’s four wheel drive right? No, it’s not four wheel drive. You don’t need a 4WD. There, I just said it. I would estimate that 80-90% of all people driving 4WD vehicles do not use the 4WD. I do know a TINY percentage of people who do serious off roading in their van, but most have suspension upgrades and high repair costs. Most people are terrified of the backcountry, thankfully, so having a 4WD is for looks only. (Nearly 70% of all National Park visits are less than one day, and it has been reported that 90% of visitors don’t leave the road.)They watch car commercials and see a family of five parking on the top of a mountain peak so they can spill out and take selfies, and think “Oh, I guess I need a 4WD with 35-inch buckshot mudders, limited slip, and locking differential.” No, you don’t. First of all, there is no road to the mountain top and if there was it would be bumper to bumper with car commercial watching couch surfers who panic when they lose cell signal. My van is 2WD, but it’s front wheel drive, and this is key. The weight of the engine is over those front wheels, which means all that weight pushing down provides traction. With good tires, this thing plows through mud, and more importantly, snow. If you do live in a snowy locale think about getting AWD, which in my mind is far more usable than 4WD especially in the snow. There is no getting in and out of AWD. It’s always there when you need it. I’m a big fan of the Ford option which was not available in 2019 when I bought my Dodge.
5. Does your wife drive the van? No. Aggressive Boston driver. Self-explanatory.
6. Do you work from the van? Yes, and this is one of the most important questions. The van is a self-contained domicile. We eat, sleep, and work from the vehicle. And we use the camp toilet. Did I mention this before? Oddly enough, the van inspires work because it transports you into the most amazing environments, and because you can eat, and sleep, and practice hook kicks inside, it means you can spend more time on location.
7. Do you have power? Yes. I have a solar generator that trickle charges off the battery while the engine is running. And the inside of the van is fully kitted with lights. My solar panels are broken, so I’m in the market to either install solar on the roof, buy new portable panels, or throw a complete tantrum, sell the van and become a sage. The generator works wonderfully except for ONE thing. My wife and I travel with our home espresso maker because American coffee sucks. I don’t care if it’s AeroPress (hipsters and Sean O’Malley), or pour over (more hipsters), or coffeeshop ($9 hipsters) or whatever else you tell me is good. It sucks, all of it. We make coffee that kills. I almost stroked out a friend who had a half cup and instantly became like a character on Cops. We begged him to find a happy place while he ground his teeth and crawled under our bed. If we use the espresso maker to make two espressos, it will literally burn 80% of a 1000W generator. And it’s worth every single watt. We will plan out what we don’t need to do just so we can have our morning blast. A typical morning might go like this. “Oh no, we only have 80% of the generator left.” “You are still going to make my coffee right?” she asks. “Right after I make mine,” I reply. “Don’t you need light to work after you get back from the shoot?” “I’ll work from the campground toilet.” I keep thinking that someone will invent a self-adhesive, flexible panel that I can just stick to the entire roof of the van. (Come on tech kids, get off your asses.)
8. Did you do the build out? No, I didn’t do the build out. I can’t build anything. I’m not handy. I can’t do math. I don’t have time. I don’t have the patience. I detest the check out line at Home Depot. The only material I like is titanium. And more importantly, I didn’t have to. I bought the interior from Wayfarer Vans out of Colorado Springs. (And now Reno.) First, I love these folks. When I first drove by, the owner of Wayfarer, a mountain-loving bloke named Ian, just tossed me the keys to his van. “Go ahead punk, I dare you,” he said. Okay, he didn’t really say this, but he did toss me the keys. Wayfarer actually found the van for me as well. Found it, I purchased it, and then Wayfarer picked it up and did the install. Total install time. THREE HOURS. I camped in the van the first day I owned it. That is what I’m talking about. This is how I feel about vanlife. Just go, go now. I did a talk once and there was this old timer in the front row. I mean a real old timer, like near death. After I was done talking he said “I don’t care about this shit, just tell me what to do because I don’t have much time left.” The kit includes full floor, insulation, lighting, power, bed, galley, etc. Their current kit is far more polished than mine, but mine is AWESOME.
9. Do you have another car? Yes, we do, but I rarely drive it unless my wife and I are both together. The other car, a 2010 RAV4 with 123,000 miles, is my wife’s car, and it looks like it. I saw a Mariachi band leaving her car early his morning. Her car is a disaster zone, so much so that is really belongs in the public library parking lot. It looks like someone is living in the car, and when I asked her if she would take care of a new car if I were to buy one for her she said “No.” Recently, my old Thule roof box shattered in the subzero temperatures. Just shattered. I attempted to take the box off the car by myself because like I said before, “I’m not handy or patient.” Approximately three minutes into the effort I just said “Fuc% it,” and pushed it over the edge. I heard a terrible noise. Rounding the corner of the RAV I noticed a brand new black scratch on the driver’s door. “Not my car,” I thought. When asked about this new scratch I said “No idea.” The reason I don’t need another car is because I have the short wheel base version of the van. This means I can fit in any parking space. This was such a smart move. I’ll credit myself here, cause I’m awesome.
10. Would you buy this van again? This van changed our lives. Sounds melodramatic but it’s true. Look, we are not vanlifers. I didn’t purchase the van to make videos and sell others on the idea of #vanlife. As we all know, many of those folks are not as vanlife as they would like you to believe. We have the van because the van allows us to live and work from the field, and to do so in comfort. Our Wayfarer kit has NO FAT. Zero. It’s practical and it works. We don’t need or want fancy, and both of us are like those old tires you see holding down the roof on houses in rural America. Sunburned and tough. At any given time, the inside of the van will have THREE bicycles, a folding canoe, my entire fishing rig, my archery setup, our hiking stuff, camping stuff, my work equipment and my wife’s work equipment. This is not a YouTube set with oranges on the table. This is a work and toy hauler that also happens to be a house. And yes, it’s super sexy and sleek. People often confuse it for a Lambo. I would look at the Ford as well. Living in New Mexico means snow, so the AWD would be nice, but the new Dodge has been updated with a ten-speed transmission and is less expensive.

I can’t say that this vehicle is for everyone, but if you want to drive a vehicle that sends plumbers and electricians into uncontrollable fits of unbridled lust then this is the box for you. “Someday,” they scream as their partners work to console them. All jokes aside, the only question I continually ask myself is “Why did I not buy a van thirty years ago?” It is easy to drive, has incredible visibility, and is the perfect base for anyone doing any kind of lengthy field work. Also, buy used if you can. If you are serious about acquiring a van and have more questions, well, fire away.

DISCLAIMER: Don’t throw things from the van.