Spring and Summer are Coming

I can't wait for spring and summer. Who can't, right? But I can't wait for reasons that are quite different from the ones cited most.

There is nothing quite as peaceful as living in a Winnebago during the summer months. In my location, clouds are lower to the ground and thunderstorms are almost a daily occurrence, preceded and followed by sun showers and clear skies.

What that means for me is the sound of raindrops hitting a thin roof, creating an extremely soothing sound that rocks the endorphins and can put you to sleep in minutes.

The other thing it means is windows open all day, every day. In a house, it often takes a bit for the smells of the outdoors to reach the center of the house. Not in a Winnebago. The smell of rain hits like you were standing outside in the rain.

Spring and summer mean no more worrying about heating, snow, ice, and energy bills. Instead, it means warm days, open air, the sound of rain on a thin roof, cool nights, and the thrill of seamless integration with the elements.

Summer is almost here.

Living in a Winnebago: An Introduction for the Unfamiliar

My lifestyle is sometimes hard to explain. I say "I live in a Winnebago" and many common images come to mind for those who just meet me. One common one is that they picture me parked in an empty field outside of town in a 1970's vintage van or dilapidated RV, yellowing and disintegrating. Couldn't be further from the truth. If you've met me, you know that you never would have guessed my lifestyle from my appearance. So, for those new to this, here are some explanations to jump-start your understanding of my lifestyle.

1. It's a tiny house

If you've heard of the tiny house movement, there is an entire movement about living in homes that can be built quickly and within one's means. This movement is largely in contrast and reaction to the bursting of the housing bubble years ago and excessive home prices that require huge, long-term mortgages in order to attain. The tiny house movement is a group of people moving into spaces that allow them to live simply and without mortgages that lock a person down for upwards of 30 years (more if refinancing happens). It is also a reaction to rent markets and landlords. It's a way to own a home, but to actually own it -- not to lease it or mortgage it.

2. It's entirely mobile

When you hear "mobile home" or "trailer," mobility is implied, but trailers, like you would see in a trailer park, aren't really that mobile. They're not even a good deal or way to live. Not only does the structure lose value, but the lot rents, even in a shitty town often start around $400/mo. So, my RV is the answer to that. It's entirely mobile. And I wanted it that way. RV lot rents are month-to-month or even day-to-day leases. When I'm ready to leave my college town, I call my landlord and tell them I'm pulling anchor tomorrow, and as soon as tomorrow comes, my lease is terminated without any penalties. My lot rent includes all utilities, except propane, and is significantly less than that of the trailer lot rents -- perhaps in large part because I'm taking up 26'x8', rather than 20'x40' on their property. If I get a job in Bozeman, MT tomorrow, I unplug my house and drive it to Bozeman, MT.

3. No chains

There's a common misconception that young people are free. Well, they're kinda free. But most are locked into year-long leases. They are also subject to market shifts in rent costs on apartments. An apartment in Laramie, Wyoming that rents for $400/mo would rent for $1,500/mo in Boulder, Colorado. RV lot rents are not as volatile, in large part because there aren't many people year-around dwelling in tiny houses or RV's, so there's not a huge market for it.

4. Living is vastly simpler

Okay, it's not for everyone, but some things have become simpler. Namely, instead of having 500 square feet (a tiny apartment) to clean, I have 200. I can vacuum, sweep, and mop my entire house in 20 minutes. Who wants to spend time cleaning a 500, 1000, 2000, or larger house as a single, young person? There are some contrasts to this, like all the things I had to invent that make this lifestyle both possible, but safe and comfortable. Once those inventions were in place, everything else became simple.

5. It's financially responsible

I have financial goals. I didn't take this project on because I'm a lazy slob. I took it on because I knew I was functional and durable enough to do this and do it right. I realized the importance of financial independence and freedom and realized that the difference between the rich and the poor is that the rich own their things outright, the poor pay huge interest rates that allow the rich to own their things outright. Not being rich myself, I realized that I had to find a lifestyle that was entirely financially sustainable and this was it for me. Did I find it? Absolutely. My financial plan includes getting a job, paying off all of my student loans, and getting a significant down payment for another house.

6. It's fun

Most people's living spaces are apartments that never seem to feel like or become "home." My space is distinctly a home space and it is my home space. It's also incredibly fun. My summers are spent rolling between friend's houses and being able to go anywhere I want without much notice or thought. How many houses have a steering wheel? Not very many, but I think more should.

7. It's bizarre (in a good way)

Some people think it's weird to live in an RV. It is -- but in an outside-the-box sort of way. Instead of dealing with shady landlords, looking at bunches of crappy apartments, and always borrowing my home space, my home space is mine. And it's all mine. Not many can say that, not even those who "own" homes with mortgages. So, is it weird to live in an RV? Maybe, if you haven't thought much about how weird it is that banks own our houses or that profiteering landlords own our apartments. I have all the same amenities as an apartment: Stove, oven, microwave, TV, stereo, toilet, shower, sink, refrigerator, freezer....

8. It's safe

Most people in apartments are at the mercy of working utilities. Not me. I have a 4,000 Watt generator (enough to run more than 60 60Watt lightbulbs at once) and backup batteries, a water tank, and waste tanks. When floods happen, people in houses abandon their houses. When floods happen to me, I drive my house to higher ground. When a furnace goes out in a house, people in apartments wait for the landlord. When the furnace goes out in my house, I turn on a couple small electric heaters and repair the furnace. Most reactions to my living situation include concern and fear for my wellbeing -- the truth is, everyone else is in bigger danger than I am, pretty much at all times. In an apartment building, neighbors can start fires that can burn the entire structure down. In my RV, I am the only one who can burn the place down.

9. It's part of a great future

Combining multiple items above, my next steps are flexible and fun. My plan is to live in the RV for one more year while I pay off a more than a decade's worth of student debt going back to when I was 18 years old, then sack a down payment for another house. I have to admit, there's a relationship element to this that makes the plan highly flexible: If I don't happen to be in a relationship at that time that warrants cohabitation, I intend to stay in the RV either until I am or until I have enough cash to pay for a house outright. Either way, the next phase for the RV after that point is the fun and great part. It becomes my cabin. Not just any cabin, but a cabin I can put in any town I like that has RV lots. What that means is that I get to drive out to my rolling cabin during summer weekends and have a base to shower and play from. It's an extra expense, but it's better than the 'bago rotting in an RV lot. And it means I have a new cabin property every year until the 'bago becomes uninhabitable. Who ever would have thunk of such a plan?

Anyway, that's a rough intro to the RV situation. Probably not a list of items that most would think of, but that's because of ridiculous cultural expectations for how to live and stereotypes created in media accounts. So few realize or can comprehend what I am doing, but as those who know me understand well, I'm not doing this because I couldn't do well at apartment living -- it's because so few could make this work as well as I do. It's free and it's financially responsible. But it's not for everyone.

Developing New Habits of Thought and New Ways of Living

I have been living in my Winnebago for a year and a half now. The things I’ve learned and the problems I’ve solved have been an incredibly fun journey. From rolling into my college town in my recently purchased ‘bago, to making my own RV skirt system in a panic while starting grad school, to weathering my first and second winters in a very harsh environment, or parking in front of friends’ houses all summer instead of paying lot rent, or even having to rebuild my furnace in sub-zero temperatures in the dead of winter, the adventure has been fun. I realize that many might not find much of that fun, but it’s fun in a different way – it’s the creation of an adventure in daily life. It’s also an entirely new connection to wilderness.

Living in the Winnebago, I have developed new habits of mind. Working quickly, but precisely. Planning for every eventuality and planning for the unknown. Being resourceful and self-sufficient. I had these skills before, but this lifestyle has led to an amplification of these skills. The threat of the elements is powerful in the place I live, so responsibility and precision are critical in all actions. Frozen pipes, flooding from frozen pipes, or malfunctioning heating systems are just an impossibility in a place that can hit negative 40 in winter.

For those in houses or apartments, isolation from the elements is essentially guaranteed. Furnaces are reliable, reliable electricity is always on hand, heating gas comes from a pipe in the ground and not a tank. The RV is just a little closer to the very environment that we isolate and insulate ourselves from in order to survive better for longer. Rather than 4-6” thick walls with fiberglass insulation, the walls are 1.5” thick Styrofoam. The vehicle is intended for 1.5 season use in mild climates, not year-around use in a place that is winter for over half the year.

Wilderness is a legal designation for a place. But the legal designation is born from a place in the collective consciousness of westerners that is different from the human or domestic space. Whether that line can ever be crossed or whether that line exists at all is a question worth pondering. Pertaining to life in a Winnebago, I am closer to whatever that wilderness might be on a daily basis only because of the fine line that exists between the risk of failure and the elements that would normally threaten life.

Am I at risk? Not really. Am I closer to “wilderness”? Maybe. But it’s not the wilderness that is designated legally. The wilderness I end up closer to is cold temperatures, frozen pipes, and a house that is almost an inside-out version of a foundation house. My water pipe is outside in open air, my sewer line hovers above the ground, and my picture windows are a windshield that is now insulated only by creatively repurposed quilts that dramatically change the r-value of the single-pane glass windshield.

I now live as naturally in a land ship as anyone else does in a brick and mortar house. It has created a new habit of thought about what a home is, what wilderness is, the role of adventure in our daily lives, and a deep understanding and respect for the fragility of life. Perhaps most of all, it has led to an understanding of the inextricable reliance on technology and energy for life in just about any place north or south of the tropics. Technology is as much a part of the human as it is the wilderness in these spaces because we could not survive here in the way we do without it. Even in a Winnebago, I am insulated from primal nature through technology and energy – I am only inches closer to whatever that environment is by choice and new ways of living that provide me the privilege to pay rent at-will and to go anywhere I want to live at a moment’s notice.