A Van, 2 Cats, and a Dream (Part 3)

We are so lucky. I’m two generations removed from a boy who lived with his mom and 9 siblings in a single room farmhouse… his family was so poor that he was limited to two squares of toilet paper when he used the bathroom (I wish I made up this sad, confusing, and hilarious fact). My grandfather and his siblings had to fight to survive. Now, I have a life where I’m able to ask the question, “What should I do to be truly happy?” or in the words of my previous post, “How Sid do we want to be?” Given such recent hardships in my family, I feel a bit embarrassed to even ask such esoteric questions.

But after this wonderful road trip, it does seem natural to wonder if we could make this lifestyle a bit more permanent. Live in our van, relax, not work very much — continue skimming the cream of life, as Sid would say.

El Vanny Blanco resting in the Cloud Peaks Wilderness area near Ten Sleep, WY.

I think that we could live this lifestyle if we wanted to. The thing is, I have a really great job. Teaching at a community college pays enough and comes with great benefits. I get summers off, and a nice vacation for every other season of the year. Most importantly, I legitimately like helping people learn math. As much as I want to run for the hills and never look back, I do want to keep my job for now. 

Leonard was not too pleased to wake up in the middle of a cattle drive.

As far as what we call our home, we have the option of selling or renting our house to live in the van full time. El Vanny Blanco feels like home, so we will definitely make a road trip every summer. But there would be some downsides to year-round van life. Writing and recording music is much more difficult in a van, as are things like using a bathroom, getting a shower, and just finding a little space to yourself. It’s not as tough as living with 9 siblings, but the 4 of us are a bit squeezed in at times. For now, having a house is a nice convenience for the other 9 months of the year. I think we’ll keep it that way. (But after realizing that we can comfortably fit all of our belongings into a van, we will be regulars at the Goodwill donation center.)

Natalie at Yellowstone Lake

My grandfather had a difficult, very poor upbringing. But all of his children ended up living much more comfortable lives. A generation later, we are living lives that are almost too lush -- we live in overwhelming comfort. Many people our age feel unnerved by the ownership and consumerism that was unavailable just two generations ago, and we find ourselves longing for simplicity. We we want to live happy lives, not just lavish ones. So for now, if only in the summers, Natalie and I will mimic the life of my grandfather, living in a single room with our entire family, thanking him for his struggles, and making the most of what he and his generation gave us.  

A Van, 2 Cats, and a Dream (Part 2)

Natalie and I were taking a romantic stroll through Walmart in Spearfish, SD, laughing at the random products: a hot dog slicer in the shape of a wiener dog, a hello kitty cupcake bedazzling set, gangsta garden gnomes. Poking fun at ridiculous consumerism does pass the time. But after living in a van for a few weeks, what struck me is how many other products have entered into the "comically unnecessary" category. Normal things. Buying anything that we already have one of or almost everything in the non-grocery side of the store would only be dead weight. I wonder if that feeling of the burden of ownership will stay with us when we get back to our Colorado home in August.

Gus and Nat hanging in Spearfish City Park

Three weeks into our two month trip and now in Ten Sleep Canyon, WY, we’re really glad to not be in a tent. Finding a place to camp for free is easy, and we’re not stuck in the same spot for weeks. There have also been several stormy nights that would have made for terrible sleep in a tent that were downright cozy in the protection of our van. So far van life is, in fact, the dream.

Climbing in Spearfish, SD

To answer your first question about living in a van with cats, yes… the van smells terrible when they poop. We thought we could do a nice job of masking that with a high quality litter and an additive, but it doesn’t work. I mean, I guess we shouldn’t expect a turd 20 inches from our noses to smell nice. Just grin, scoop, and toss it as fast as possible. I’ll also say that our fancy hippie litter was not the best for clumping/removing urine… leading to a bit of an accident that had us at the Spearfish Laundromat until 1am. OK, lengthy cat waste discussion: complete.

Leonard not enjoying his harness

I think I’ll leave the question of whether we can/want to do this full time for the end of the trip. For now, I’m struck by how quickly we can adapt to different living situations. I haven’t had the slightest thought about our suburban home since we left. I’m also surprised by how this honestly feels like some of the cushiest living imaginable. This is not roughing it. We’ve given up very little and have gained so much in return. I really enjoy the slow pace and downtime that van life has brought. Lots of time to think, write, climb, make music, and just be a lazy bum. Most importantly, I feel closer to living a life that’s simplified to just the things that make me happy. No hotdog slicers and gangsta gnomes. Just music, climbing, and our little family.