Let's Go, Jane!

This van project is research heaven for me. I am a serial hobbyist, happiest when I’m picking up something new and learning everything there is to know about it. And this project will involve carpentry, plumbing, and electrical. I need to understand radiant heat vs. conduction vs. convection, along with R-value and compression strength. Needless to say, I’ve been watching a lot of YouTube videos. 

There is a treasure trove of information on YouTube about DIY van conversions. One could fall very deep into that rabbit hole, just ask my mother. But, I am finding that I prefer the written posts. When you read a blog post about heating and insulation, you can quickly scan, or skip entirely, the parts that are not relevant to your build. With a video, you have to just let the whole thing play out. Some of these videos take 15 minutes to say what could have been said in five. While I could increase the playback speed, I don’t want to miss the information that is actually useful to me.

But the deeper I go, the more I’m realizing that not all information is created equal. At the end of the day, YouTube videos are just opinions. For example, one of the first things I want to do in my van is install a subfloor. The floor is made of corrugated metal, with long channels that run the length of the van. Some people frame out their subfloor using the “valleys” for support, filling them with wood or lap sealant. Others run their frames perpendicular to the ribs, leaving air pockets. A few outliers don’t frame their subfloor at all, laying the rigid insulation panels directly on the metal floor. It is hard to know what is science-based and what is just a shortcut. The number of times a video has been viewed is as much a reflection of its entertainment value as the accuracy of the information it contains.

As I try to find the balance between researching and actually doing, I also turned my attention this week to sourcing materials for Phase 0, “make it livable.” I ordered a mattress, an electric cooler, and a roof fan. I spent three hours on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor of the van, which was caked with dirt under the rubber cargo mat. I lucked into a 50-degree day, which made cleaning possible. The next step is to install noise deadening material to all of the bare metal panels so it doesn’t sound like the inside of a tin can when I’m driving around. Unfortunately the temperature has dropped back down below freezing, and I don’t think the adhesive panels will adhere. Florida is calling.

I have grown accustomed, over the last six months, to having no more than I can carry on my back. Now, I feel a growing sense of unease as I start adding to my belongings. A pair of slippers here, a winter coat there. I have retrieved a few items from my sister’s basement, and purchased a few others. It’s getting to the point where I can no longer carry everything out of the apartment in one trip, and I do not like the feeling. It’s a slippery slope toward being buried under material things again, and I worked too hard to get out from under that mountain.

The only saving grace is that I now have the van. When I finally got the plates and went to retrieve the van from my parents’ driveway, I realized I wasn’t the only one excited. Both of them wanted to take it for a spin—one at a time, since there are only two seats—and my dad insisted on popping the hood to take a look. Watching them circle the van, ask questions, and offer advice was surprisingly grounding. I think they may be just as invested in this adventure as I am now, which is a testament to how far this idea has come. When I first floated it, I’m pretty sure they thought I’d lost my mind.

I am cautious about treating the van as a mobile storage unit–whatever I keep in the van needs to be taken in and out whenever I need to work on it. Plus, I don’t totally trust its security. I’d like to add exterior locks to all four of the doors. Once I’m living in the van I will need to also figure out some quick-release interior locks, and some sort of system so I don’t inadvertently lock myself out. People seem to come up with a habit of which door they enter and exit from. It will all become clear in time.

For now, the van is still more idea than execution—but it’s inching closer to being part of my actual life. This weekend, the van will make its debut road trip to my sister’s house in Connecticut, where we will be celebrating our parents’ upcoming 60th wedding anniversary. It’s a small start, but it’s a real one.