How Living in a Van Changed Life During Pandemic Lockdown

I moved into my van 134 days before the United States went into lockdown for COVID-19.

Upon moving in, I envisioned my lifestyle to look something like this: work 5-6 days a week as a snowmobile guide, ski 1-2 days a week, join a local gym for showers, and use public restrooms as much as possible. I thought my plan was seamless.

My first 134 days of vanlife went well. I worked long days playing in the deep Colorado snow and my schedule encouraged me to create solid morning and evening routines.

(Side note: When I moved into my van, it was 80% complete. One of the main features that was not installed was the diesel heater.)

As a solution to no heat,

I let the van idle while parked and blasted the heat from the cab. I wore many layers and embraced this as my “new normal”.

I had thick blankets and a comforter that kept my dog and me warm and cozy all night. But to be honest, the morning was always brutal. Since the van heat had been off all night, the inside temperature would drop quickly. Most mornings I could see my breath inside the van. On average, the inside temperature of the van was 10 degrees Fahrenheit warmer than the outside temp. During December we had a cold spell of -25˚F that lasted 5 days.

It rocked me to my core.

And yes, I lived to tell the tale.

You think it’s hard to get out of bed in the morning during your day-to-day?! Try getting out of a warm bed when it is 10˚f in your house.

When I was home in the van, my heat strategy worked surprisingly well. Because I worked long hours in the dead of winter, the van never stayed warm enough, long enough, to keep the 6-gallon water tank or potty from freezing solid.

Looking back, the first stretch of vanlife toughened me up. I “shrugged off” the cold, thinking it was how most vanlifers lived during the cold seasons. But now, I was rugged as fuck! I lived, worked, ate, and slept in the cold.

To put a cherry on top of everything,

the induction stove that I installed also didn’t work properly. It took forever to heat food and consumed too much energy. This was extremely frustrating not only because I love to cook but also because every day after working in a winter wonderland, I wanted something warm to eat. That winter I ate smoothies, salads, and cold roasted vegetables that I meal prepped at a friend’s house every Sunday. To compensate the lack of warmth in my life, every week I took myself out to dinner for a huge hot bowl of vegetable pho.

In the moments of freezing cold vanlife, I never thought it was that bad.

I mean, I was living my dream, right?! Living in a van in the Rockies mountains of Colorado driving snowmobiles in the wilderness for a living. Life was going quite well until…

COVID-19 hit.

Overnight everything shut down. My work, ski resorts, the gym, and local coffee shops closed their doors. All resources I depended on as a vanlifer dissolved instantly. Everyone began scrambling to stock up on food and, of course, toilet paper. People worried about shortages and employment. They were anxious for their loved ones and were afraid to see friends.

Following suit, I tried my best to stock up on food and hand sanitizer. But when living in 50 square-feet, there isn’t much space to stock up on much of anything. I improvised and filled cardboard boxes and stuffed snacks and cans of soup into my ski bags in the back. I bought many premade meals to compensate for my shitty-unusable kitchen and, of course, limit my exposure in grocery stores.

In addition to those worries, my biggest concerns were, “where am I going to take a shower? How will I thaw my frozen water jug? Will it be okay to use my potty?”

In Colorado, travel bans were immediately put in place. I thought to myself, “how can I not travel? My house doesn’t have a foundation- I have no place to park for an extended period of time in these mountains….”

Luckily, the small town I was “residing” in, was close enough to the wilderness that no one bothered me or patrolled the area to ensure the residents were following the rules.

Before lockdown, I was working 11-hour days and only awake in my van for ~4 hours a day. Once everything shut down, I was in the van 24/7 solo with no human interaction, no heat, no running water, and a stove that I hated.

At first, I was stunned about the lockdown- just like everyone else.

Within two weeks’ time, I came up with a new routine and strategy for life. I would park behind the local gym to use their wifi and have consistent privacy. I was able to sneak inside after-hours (via a friend’s key, bless her heart!) to use the shower and fill up a water jug every few days.

Each morning I would go for a snowy walk with my dog on a hiking trail nearby. After wandering deep into the woods, I would find a log near the river and write in my journal. Twice a week I drove 30 minutes up the pass to a small mom n’ pop resort called Ski Cooper. Each visit, I hiked up and skied down the hill once or twice, and loved every minute of it.

I quickly began to realize that I had it made compared to millions of other people.

Although I had lost my job and was living in an ice box on wheels-- my house was on wheels! I wasn’t glued to a 15th story apartment in NYC like a few of my friends. I wasn’t sharing a home with 5 other people, worrying about their lifestyle and exposure. The police and U.S. National Guard weren’t on our streets ensuring all people followed the rules. Thousands of people were not allowed to leave their home or city block, let alone the state!

For me, I was still in my favorite place:

the snowy mountains of Colorado.

After the fear of lockdown had washed away I began to realize my privileges. Gratitude filled me up each morning as I walked in the woods. Although my heart was broken about not being able to see my loved ones or ski the big resorts nearby, I was still able to ski in fresh powder as winter rolled on.

I was grateful for the mobility and sense of freedom that the van granted me. Although my lifestyle was coupled with complications and many hurdles, a bold silver lining remained.

A few weeks into quarantine, I found myself still thinking about the trip I promised myself that winter. I swore that after a long season of hard work, I would high tail it to the Pacific Northwest of the United States. I had only heard amazing things from my fellow guides about the national parks in that region. In the solitude of lock down, I could hear Washington and Oregon calling my name!

As the snow in the mountains began to melt away and mud season set in, I decided to move back to the front range of Colorado to make modifications and improvements to the van’s interior. After I completed the projects, I planned on setting out for the Pacific Northwest for the rest of summer.

Six months of vanlife quickly revealed what needed to be added to the interior of the van.

I desperately needed more shelving, storage, and to install the final interior rear ceiling panels. In addition, I really wanted a window in the sliding door to let more light and air into my home.

For the next two months, I lived with one of my best friends while working on van projects together. Being near the warm Colorado sun, in a house with a shower and endless amounts of water was the perfect change of pace that I didn’t know I needed.

By the time summer rolled around, most state-to-state travel bans in the U.S. were changed or lifted completely. I began to research how the regulations varied from state to state and where it would be best to travel. I had the intentions and practices to play safely and protect every small community I passed through.

One week after travel regulations changed, I began my journey to the PNW (Pacific Northwest) in my mobile quarantine.

Over the next 90 days of 2020, I traveled through Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, Washington, Oregon, and Utah. More than half of my time in the PNW was spent in Washington— I fell in love with the mountains, national parks, and the people there.

Since many people were not able to travel, most parks were quiet.

This created an amazing opportunity for intimacy and connection with nature in each area.

As I shared my adventures on social media, my direct messages on Instagram began to fill with heart-eyed emojis and comments like “jealous!!” and “take me with you!”. Friends and family on Facebook were on the edge of their seats waiting for photo updates each week. I toured through every PNW park and visited all the volcanoes in the region.

During the COVID-19 pandemic I had a level of privilege that not many had. This time brought hardship and tragedy to millions of people in the world. My home and lifestyle, as well as my country, granted me access to a different kind of quarantine. For that I am humbled and grateful.