how it all began… bus life, that is

Let's rewind to 2019. I was prepping for a summer internship just north of Seattle, in Everett, Washington that I'd been dreaming of for years. My brother lives on the west coast, so he and my dad offered to go apartment shopping for me, since I was rooted in Daytona Beach, Florida, finishing my bachelor's, simultaneously working on my master's, and wrapping up my fourth season of college basketball. While looking around, they came across a Volkswagen van for sale. We were all tempted for me to go for it, but I had about as much experience living in a tiny space as I had in converting a 3-row van into a tiny house (that is: none whatsoever). I passed on the opportunity, opting for the standard apartment instead. But, in that moment, a tiny seed was planted.

Now, feel free to take a snooze through the next two years.

I thought it would take one year to finish my master's degree (took two). Thought I'd move to Colorado and start my PhD in Environmental Science (got rejected, and not just from one program... but 3). I fell wildly in love and hoped that we might move to Colorado together after graduation (that didn’t work out, and that heartbreak was no joke, either. No resentment, but just keeping it real haha. Feel free to expect that from me).

Still laboring over my master's thesis, around February of 2021 I finally threw my hands up and yelled to my roommates, "that's it! I'm done!!! I'm gonna move in a van and live by the river and never have to deal with this s*!% again!"

I was joking, of course, but somehow, one of them looked at me and said, "wait... that's actually kind of a good idea for you."

meet the crew who encouraged me to make the jump to bus life, and who kept me sane during the global pandemic. Left to right: Julia, Maria, Luis, Momma Nance, Nikki (holding Anya), and Dana (holding puppy Apollo).

I wasn't totally sure what that meant, but in the face of my rejection from the PhD programs, I'd gone after a job (with fervor) that was not only a crossover of two of my favorite fields, it also happened to be fully remote. Could it be possible?? What if I did get this job... could I really pull off the nomad life??

When I got the "welcome aboard" message from the job, suddenly, it all became very real, and very possible. I was working at a coffee shop at the time, and in addition to my wildly supportive roommates and friends, baristas might be the best type of people to be hanging around while volleying the question of "should I live in a van??" Surrounded by encouragement, I started following one van-lifer after another, looking up pros and cons of vans versus skoolies, rig sizes, and what it takes to convert an old vehicle into a tiny adventure home on wheels. My degrees are in engineering, so I was pumped at the prospect of learning how to build things with my own hands, apply what I'd learned about electricity, water systems, and design, and mostly, I couldn’t wait to create a space totally of my own.

Initially, with the new job, I was told I'd start in October. Perfect. Graduate in May, build-build-build, move into the bus, start the job. Let's goooo.

Oops. Middle of March, a change of plans - "do you think you could start April or May??" Oh boy. This was the chance of a lifetime, so there was no way I'd say no, but suddenly the idea of starting work full-time, and trying to learn how to do that while simultaneously building a tiny house by myself (and having to learn how to do all that) became daunting.

By this time I had settled that I wanted a short bus; I wanted something more spacious than a van since I'd spend a lot of time in the rig working, but being that it would just be Anya and I, I knew I didn't need more that that. I had also decided it was best if I only shared my wild bus-life dreams with people who I could trust to hear them. When everyone asked the inevitable, "well where are you gonna go, if you can go anywhere you want to now?!" I often just said "ohh, I think I'll just travel around a while before I settle on a place." To the others, I'd confess my insanity and say, "I think I want to build out a skoolie, and travel the country while I work."

Now, bear with me on the ending here, it takes some curvy turns.

The last week that I was in Daytona, an event came up that I was really torn about attending. Without getting into too much detail, it closely impacted the aforementioned man with whom I had fallen wildly in love with, later followed by a heart-shattering (albeit peaceful and cordial) breakup. I didn't know if showing up would be more of a distraction or a nice way of letting him know I was there for him, even if we weren't dating anymore. (Disclaimer: I have the utmost respect for this guy, even during and after our breakup that never changed. Sometimes things just don't work out.) I'm a big follow-your-instincts/guts/God Voice person, and in the end it was my ex’s voice in my head from another conversation we'd had in the past saying, "when people care they show up. It doesn't matter if it might be awkward or hard, when it's mattered in my life, the people who cared were just there." It was on that wisdom that I knew I should go, and between him and I, between myself and the other friends that were impacted, I was through-and-through glad that I showed up. Thanks for the wisdom, you know who you are.

I know you (whoever may be reading this tale) must be thinking, "what's this got to do with anything?" Lemme tell ya. On this same tumultuous evening, I bumped into a girl I didn't know super well or for super long, but she was always one of those people who I thought "dang, I think we would be good friends if our paths just crossed more, or in the right way." Her and I caught up, and when I told her about my job I'd be starting soon, she asked the classic "what's the plan?" She is, to this day, the only person who halfway through thinking I'd give her the safe-shtick ("I'll just travel around"), my gut stopped me and literally said, "no, just tell her the truth." So I did. I told her I wanted to try out bus life, but I wasn't sure if I could pull it all off. She LIT UP, and goes, "Shuuut up! I have a friend who is just finishing her skoolie, literally the same thing - a small bus conversion! I'll send you her info, I bet she'd love to send you tips or resources to get started!"

Fast forward a couple weeks. I'm home in Michigan, working out of my mom's basement, still looking up small buses for sale in my area, when I get a message from her on Instagram: "Dude. She's selling it."

At first I was confused, I won't lie, until a second later the link to a post for a skoolie for sale popped into my inbox. For sale in California, a sage green bus, which the builder had lived in for less than 3 weeks, and was completely finished. My heart was absolutely pounding. I sent it to everyone who knew my plan, and messaged the girl (Shay - God Bless Shay forever) to tell her I was interested. Thanks to the quick message from my friend, I was able to message Shay within hours of the posting, and by another good stroke of fortune I already had plans to be in California in about a week to visit my brothers. "Can I come and see the bus?"

Absolutely.

here’s the original post of the bus for sale (formerly named io - notice how her name still has “io” at the end, I had to keep it as a nod to her creator and her beginnings).