The REAL stuff about the hardships and the magic of living full time in a tiny house on wheels.
Disclaimer: If you are expecting a sweet little list of what’s hard and what’s fun about life on the road, this is not that post. You could probably write that post yourself even if you’ve never lived in a home on wheels, because all the things you imagine as being hard or fun are probably right on. This post is about the REAL, deep stuff, the hard stuff and the magic that I had no idea would surface in my journey of owning a truck camper…
After 14 months of having just my truck camper and a storage unit, but no street address to call home, I now live inside a proper house again. You know the kind – solid walls that don’t require popping up every day, plumbing on demand, and built-in electricity that can actually handle a hair dryer… I have a much greater understanding of and appreciation now for why most adults subscribe to these things. Wait, you actually want a private toilet that flushes, AND has hot water and soap at the ready? What a novelty!
Since I bought my Swift Four Wheel Camper and installed it on my Toyota Tacoma last summer, I have learned a LOT about what it really means for ME to live full-time in a truck camper versus living in a house. Now that I can starkly contrast the two lifestyles, it’s time for some reflection on the hardships and magic of life on the road, and what these lessons mean for me going forward.
Let’s start with some numbers, because even though this post isn’t about lists, we all love some good numbers:
During the 14 months that I was “home-free,” I…
- Spent 5 months traveling internationally (since we’re doing numbers, it was 6 trips and 15 countries, including 5 JUMP Adventures trips)
- Spent 8 collective months living full-time out of my truck camper
- Spent 1 month staying with a friend (right before my camper was installed)
- Traveled in 8 states (Montana, Idaho, Oregon, California, Nevada, Utah, Arizona, and Colorado)
- Went to 2 MN Wild ice hockey games 😍
- Drove 19,000 miles, which is more than I clocked the previous 4 years combined
- Saved roughly $25k on rent (ahem, and spent it on a camper…)
It was not all rainbows and butterflies…
The hardest part of living full-time in a truck camper
We’re starting with the bad stuff (the thorns) right out of the gates, so we can end properly with roses and warm fuzzies.
There were a lot of (easily-imaginable) hard things that came with living full-time in my truck camper, but one absolutely stood out above the rest. And the worst part was that I never saw it coming, nor do I know even how I could have prepared for it, or if it would have changed my path entirely…
Allow me to remind you of something you probably never think about that reared its head to me in a big ugly way over this past year:
Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs is a visual summary of how humans tick when it comes to existing, from basic survival needs all the way up to thriving in success and fulfilling one’s purpose. It is described on Simply Psychology as follows:
“Lower-level basic needs like food, water, and safety […order, predictability, and control] must be met first before higher needs can be fulfilled…
Our most basic need is for physical survival, and this will be the first thing that motivates our behavior. Once that level is fulfilled, the next level up is what motivates us, and so on.
The human body cannot function optimally if physiological needs are not satisfied. ”
We’re talking about Basic. Human. Needs.
Without realizing it, in one fell swoop I wiped out the bottom two levels of my pyramid and turned the whole damn thing into a daily pursuit.
I never once considered how hard it would be to fulfill my basic human needs every single day, while simultaneously trying to operate from the top of the pyramid, running my business, keeping up my active lifestyle of ice hockey, mountain biking, travel, etc.
Whoa.
When you have a house that comes with running water and a fridge (and freezer!) and pantry, then aside from meal planning or prepping, you do not need to seek your basic needs of food, water, and shelter, nor the safety and stability that your solid home with lockable doors provides, every single day. In fact, the average person with a home most likely takes these things entirely for granted.
Enter: living in a truck camper.
There were only a handful of times over the entire past year that I ever stayed in the same camp spot without leaving during the day. (Hello, I still had a life, I wasn’t just blissfully camping for months on end). Which means, even if I was able to set up in the same spot, or somewhere nearby, each night, I still had to think about where I was sleeping that night, Plan B ever at the ready.
If you’ve ever been a long-term overlander or a vehicle-based nomad, you know this feeling, and you know it can start to weigh heavily. It’s a stress most people (with homes) do not ever have to think about. And for the record, living out of a vehicle is entirely different from traveling nomadically, which I’ve spent many years doing. Nomadic travel still includes beds to sleep in, usually inside buildings that also offer running water, electricity, and a certain sense of safety, though that type of nomadism wears on you in a different way.
My water tank holds 20 gallons, and when it runs out, I am at the mercy of finding a spigot with potable water that attaches to and is reachable by my 25’ hose. This is where I’m so grateful to friends who let me fill up at their houses along the way. I got used to filling up all my water bottles at the gym or the hockey rink, and in a pinch I’d have to buy jugs of water from the store (which I hate doing, because plastic).
Though I do have a fridge in the camper, it’s smaller than a milk crate, and the freezer (to my everlasting frustration) doesn’t even fit a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. Also, the “kitchen” is only accessible when the camper is popped up (read: not during the majority of any given day). One must get very creative with meals and food storage (and consider the trash and packaging that food comes in, because who has room for that when you live in a shoe box?), and this often results in daily trips to a store for fresh items. I ended up always keeping Mexican ingredients stocked, because they are super simple and versatile (also, because Mexican food🤤).
Unfortunately, I also discovered that for how active I am, I wasn’t getting nearly enough calories or protein with my camper kitchen diet. Sigh. Food is so important, and cooking is NOT my forte. Does everything in this lifestyle have to be such a challenge?
It took a LOT of time and energy I was wholly unprepared to give just to meet my basic needs of food, water, shelter, and safety every day, especially while I was trying (and often felt like failing) to run my business well. Not just run it, but grow it (the audacity!). I am an entrepreneur and I run my own show, which means it’s up to me to keep it going.
I used Starlink for internet while off-grid, and while it worked really well most of the time, there were times that I couldn’t get enough signal to hold a call (or a recorded podcast conversation) without dropping it. Frustrating doesn’t even cut it. Setting up Starlink and breaking it down also took time and energy, not to mention battery life from an external power station that I also had to ration (and charge… add that issue to the long list of irregular hardships).
The past year has been a season of change, not just in my personal and home life, but also in my work life. Details aside, that means there was a LOT going on with my work, and a LOT that I had to (chose to? #entrepreneurship) show up for. Which prompted me to seek out mountain bike trails or ice hockey pickup games to try to balance my stress, oh and then maybe get to shower afterwards if I was lucky. Wait, you said you wanted a social life too? So demanding.
It. Was. Exhausting.
It was FULL on, all the time, requiring work and energy no matter how I felt, with literally no place to properly rest on any given day, because, oh, my roof was popped down and you can’t even sit inside unless it’s all set up.
And all that doesn’t even broach the subjects on the lists we aren’t including, like not having a bathroom, or being a solo female sleeping alone in the wild, just over here weathering storms that literally shake my bed…
Sigh. I chose this adventure, right?
<INTERLUDE>
Okay, take a breath and shake it out with me, because here comes the BUT you’ve been waiting for. I started with the Thorns because we never end on a Thorn, we always end on the Buds and Roses, don’t we JUMPers?…
</INTERLUDE>
BUT… Where there is hardship, there is also magic.
The best part of living full-time in a truck camper
There are truly SO many wonderful best things about living full-time in a truck camper (one of my top favorites being drinking coffee in nature), but again, one stands out above the rest, and it can be summed up in one word: EMPOWERMENT.
I am and always have been ALL about courage. About feeling the fear and doing it anyway. About lighting a torch and marching straight into the darkness, into the unknown, discovering what’s there and how I can learn and grow from it, and you know what?
Courage is a one-way trip. Once you take the leap, you never really go back. You can never undo, unsee, unlearn the life lessons you’ve earned through any given experience. You do not go back to who you were. You only go forward.
I’ve spoken about the empowerment I’ve discovered in this truck camper lifestyle on the podcast, and I am sure I will again, because it’s SO GOOD. There are some things in life that just stretch us, catapulting us straight out of our comfort zones, forcing us to develop new muscles and explore uncharted territory, some we get to choose, some we don’t. Living full-time on the road is one of them.
Not only have I exhaustively learned how to use a truck camper, including navigating the water pump and tank, winterizing the pipes, using my air compressor, tightening anchors and tie downs, monitoring and managing battery life and air in my tires, using solar/battery electricity versus shore power versus power station power, maintaining propane tank levels, adjusting airbag suspension PSI, and beyond… I have also jumped vehicles, installed tiny shelves, configured solar energy storage, built campfires, navigated laundromats and many different gyms, explored new cities and mountain bike trails and hockey rinks, seen so many friends I wouldn’t normally get to see, woke up in nature day after day after day, and…
I’ve done it all on my own.
I have recognized a wild thing that has happened to me as a result of doing SO many things solo in my life…
In many ways, I have filled in for “my other half.”
In a book about dreams that you may never have interest to read, but that I love, Lauri Quinn Loewenberg writes, “Believe it or not, we sometimes discover our whole self once we go through a separation or divorce because we are forced to. Certain built-in qualities and skills become idle when “our other half” is handling some of the work.”
Normally, we use the phrase “other half” to reference a partner. I honestly cannot wait to introduce you all to my partner (I’d like to meet him too), but for now, I’m riding solo. And as I’ve been practicing since I was 18 when I first left the country alone to study abroad: just because I’m solo doesn’t mean I’m not going. Feeling the fear, doing it anyway.
I can’t depend on anyone else to fulfill my dreams for me, nor take care of the things I don’t want to take care of that accompany said dream territory. Because trust me, learning about vehicle suspension and the inner workings of a truck camper AND actually being solely responsible for keeping everything working and fixing things when they’re not were not only NOT high on my list, they also terrified me.
Doing all of this by myself was my single biggest fear about signing up for this whole adventure in the first place. But I know as well as anyone that fear always comes with the territory of big dreams. I also know from experience that on the other side of fear is reward. It’s either buck up and learn, harness that courage, face that fear, empower myself and get through it, or change course.
Gee.
Jackie being Jackie and insisting on doing all the things that I do solo (because often that’s my only choice) has helped me learn and hone skills that a LOT of people just don’t bother to develop, simply because they don’t have to. And I’m not just talking “man” skills because I’m a woman, I’m talking everything from mental strength to personal confidence to handy skills and beyond. These are human learnings – and every piece of that learning that becomes skill, then becomes habit, then becomes confidence and courage, and ultimately makes me feel more whole and capable in this human experience. WHAT?!
Who knew I was signing up for all these things when I said I wanted to buy a truck camper?!
Learning all these things, adding so much to my experience, and doing it all on my own… THAT. IS. EMPOWERMENT. And no one can ever take that away from me.
THAT. IS. THE MAGIC.
And that magic is something you can’t order on a pretty list for your custom camper build. You have to choose to show up and believe in discovering for yourself what the adventure has in store for you.
Despite all the hardship and struggle over the past year, I’m blown away by what the adventure has had (so far!) in store for me. I’ll take empowerment any day and consider it a reward well-earned through days of my life well-spent.
<ENCORE>
Because that was the Bud, here is the Rose.
Home Base + Truck Camper = Balance
Part of the reason I got my truck camper in the first place was because my home I was living in for three and a half years prior was being turned into an Airbnb, so I had to leave. While I tried to find another rental, suffice to say that all signs (painfully massive understatement) were pointing me to actually going for this dream I’d had of owning a truck camper and living out of it for a while, and perhaps getting the hell out of dodge for a minute.
I CHOSE this adventure, and I knew that. Every single day that I felt those hardships, I reminded myself that I chose this lifestyle. And gratefully, even through the Hard, I also got to experience the Magic. My making this dream a reality certainly didn’t come easily, but it also without a doubt made me stronger and more empowered, in so many ways. Those are some pretty substantial rewards for a season of my life well-spent, that no one can take away from me.
And it has brought me full circle to actually choosing to live in a house again, even after I swore off renting forever (you know how we humans can be when we’re upset). But the difference in my living in a house now versus before is that this time I’m not just doing it because it’s “normal.”
“Normal” is not a trail marker in the wilderness.
As a philosophically-minded, big-picture thinker, I want to know why I do what I do with my life. In my personal life, in my work life, all of it. I want to question everything, so that I can feel that my choices are indeed creating the one and only life that actually looks like me, the one life that I actually want to live, rather than defaulting on a choice simply because one option is considered “normal.” I’m choosing to live in a house right now for specific reasons, and I know exactly what those are, because I went out and learned them the hard way.
Right now, I feel immense value in having a solid home base that doesn’t sway in the breeze or require putting away before going to get groceries. I also feel immense value in having a personal escape pod to whisk me away to the quiet of the mountains on a regular basis, to read, to write, to slow down, to listen to the birds, to drink coffee in nature, to turn off the phone.
My word for 2024 has been “Balance,” and only now that we’re halfway through the year am I starting to see it play out. I know balance is something we can all only continue to work towards, and I’m slowly finding the path.
Fortunately this year, my living situation isn’t under the financial pressure of choosing to either buy a camper or rent a house. Now that I’m through that stage, instead of either/or I can do both/and. And therein lies the real Rose of it all…
Now, I can have my solid home base, somewhere to go home to that I can count on to be there for me (and where I can actually cook and do laundry and sit down during the day), AND I can have my beloved tiny house escape pod on wheels, to pepper off-grid nature time into my daily life, to give me that easy access option of adventure, but in intentional moderation. #Balance
I very highly recommend that anyone interested in a personal escape pod should absolutely get one. For ALL the good reasons, but perhaps not at the expense of a home base if it can be avoided. Unless you’re really, really in a good place, and heartset, and mindset for a full-existence adventure.
I’m currently writing this from the quiet of my Montana woods where I slept last night, just me and the songbirds and my beloved tiny home on wheels. My cozy nest that I have come to love and appreciate so much in the past year, that has taught me so much and taken me so far.
Looking back, one year later, I’m SO glad I said yes to this wild adventure, and I’m SO glad I don’t have to live in it full-time anymore 😅.
Here’s to the pursuit of Balance.
