Three years ago, my partner and I packed everything we owned into a bright yellow campervan and decided to live on the road full-time.
Since then, we’ve been to 49 states and nine Canadian provinces and territories, and have experienced once-in-a-lifetime moments along the way.
The experience has been overwhelmingly positive so far, but we’ve found that this lifestyle comes with unique challenges, too. Here’s what van life is really like.
Living in a van comes with a ton of unique perks
Haley Young
For us, one of the most surprising things about van life is how convenient it is. For example, when we return from hikes, we can change clothes (and even shower) right at the trailhead.
Plus, when we leave the grocery store with a full cart, we’re able to load our groceries straight from the parking lot into our fridge.
In my eyes, though, the biggest perk has been getting to see so many incredible places around the country.
We’ve watched desert sunrises from the comfort of our own bed, spotted a yearling orca on a Tuesday afternoon in Kenai Fjords National Park, and stepped from our kitchen right onto a Nova Scotia beach.
Moments like these are what make the lifestyle feel so rewarding.
But there have been other costs — financial and beyond — to making van life work
Haley Young
The biggest challenge we’ve faced is adjusting to the unpredictability of life on the road.
For example, the first time we parked on a city street to sleep overnight, I obsessively peered past our blackout window covers, certain someone would bother us.
Years in — thanks to practice, desensitization, and increased trust in our security system — I’ve gotten much more comfortable sleeping on the road. However, we still have to deal with loud noises, interested onlookers, and the reality that we can’t always know what to expect.
Plus, there have been times we’ve run out of water and can’t shower — or finish washing dishes until we refill our supply. It can also feel like a real-life game of Tetris, trying to fit everything we own into such a small space.
Then there’s the financial aspect of van life. Although we’ve saved money in some areas, we now spend more in others. One of our greatest costs has been food, since our fridge and pantry are small, and we’re never able to take advantage of bulk discount shopping at places like Costco.
Instead, we often find ourselves in rural areas with high grocery prices. (I don’t want to talk about how much vegetables cost in small-town Alaska.)
We also love trying new restaurants together. We’re big fans of sampling whatever cuisine an area is known for — sushi in Seattle, fried cod in Newfoundland, Korean barbecue in Los Angeles — so we allocate a good part of what we save on our mortgage to eating out.
And, of course, there are also unpredictable costs when things go wrong — like the time our lithium-ion batteries overheated, forcing us to frantically move everything out of our home in a Top Golf parking lot — as well as the need to keep up with regular maintenance.
Still, though, I can’t picture life any other way. For us, the stress of logistics pales in comparison to the experiences we’ve had since hitting the road, and we plan to stay in our van for the foreseeable future.
Overall, we feel more fulfilled, and I love our balance of comfort, cost, and joy.
