on potential

Doug: By nature I kinda hold onto things.

Brooke: I’m more of a Marie Kondo, all-of-my-earthly-possessions-must-fit-into-a-sedan kinda gal.

Doug: The van is a big puzzle that you’re putting together, so you never know what could be useful until later stages.  

Brooke: This build has definitely taught me to look for potential in stuff I might otherwise have given to Goodwill.

Doug: It’s also important not to have too much clutter, especially when you’re using a garage and driveway. If you don’t have a lot of space, be organized and do it in stages. Ask any mechanic: It’s really important to have a clean, organized space. Well… maybe not any mechanic.

You don’t need a giant workshop to do a van build; you just have to work in stages.

Doug: I try not to waste any wood.  

Brooke: Does it make you feel guilty?

Doug: Yeah. That’s the cool thing about trash picking, because a lot less of it is trash because of us. As far as new pieces go, I haven’t wasted anything besides little bits of plywood. Any scrap we’ve gotten rid of, we were sure we weren’t going to use.


What’s cool about this philosophy is how respectful it is. How long does it take for a tree to grow to the point where it can be harvested? And how much time and effort went into making that desk on the curb? So much in our culture is treated like it’s disposable when it could still be useful. And what good is it going to do moldering in a landfill?

So before you go to throw something away, take a second and consider its potential. You might be able to do something cool with it later. A few examples... 

This bass string, which Doug used to dry out the inside of a broken taillight.

This leftover red plastic from a taillight repair kit that he used to mute the aggressively bright LED temperature reading on our ARB fridge.

This wall made out of the slats from an old bed frame that had been in the attic for at least 12 years.

We made this shelf out of two rickety paint shelves we found on the sidewalk. The lips that look like a pair of eagles or semi trucks were the leftover bits of a desk we trash-picked and turned into a kitchenette.

This back light switch ended up being better than the original setup.

And finally, this round slice of wood that he mounted our toilet on was originally a mounting base he used for a Dremel stand to trim his bird’s talons.

This is Alice Cooper, a handsome and well-rounded green-cheeked conure.

the first step

Yooo, I bought a used van!

Dude, congratulations!

Now what do I do?

Put on some gloves and get to scrubbin!

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This gnarly stuff is all the heat wrap — basically sticker remnants — that was still stuck in the seams on the outside of the van.

Look how gross the van was before Doug swept and scrubbed every surface with all-purpose cleaner.

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And check out how nice it looked after he used alcohol to clean the bare metal, repainted the floor, and hit all the dings with a paint pen.

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Under the seat was particularly grody and required a fistful of Armoral wipes and a good stiff drink afterward.

“They obviously didn’t care about it,” he said. “But it was gonna be our home, so I wanted to take care of it. Start off right.”

what's the best van to buy?

There’s no right answer to this question. The three most popular cargo van models for conversion are the Mercedes Sprinter, the Ram ProMaster, and the Ford Transit. Doug went with the Transit for a couple reasons:

  • Certified diesel mechanics are harder to come by, so the Sprinter was out.

  • Sprinters are also wicked expensive — like $20k for a used one with 100,000 miles on it. Strike two, Sprinter.

  • The Transit has more right angles, which makes it easier to maximize the interior space during the build-out phase.

You can expect to pay between $32-36k for a new van and around $24k for a decent used one. You’re looking for the same things you’d look for in any car: mileage, signs of misuse, basic stuff.

After a little online research and two trips to a used car dealership called Car Revolution (see what they did there?), Doug ultimately decided on this lovely 2018 Ford Transit. Meet the Stratoship*:

*That’s the working title; we’re not quite sold on it yet. Maybe we’ll call her Katie instead? Suggestions always welcome.

The Stratoship was $4,000 more than he intended to pay and had some cosmetic damage — “blue-collar abused” was the way he put it. But it also only had 8,000 miles, which seemed like a worthwhile trade-off.

why live in a van?

Doug Black, ink on paper, 2020

Doug Black, ink on paper, 2020

Cause it beats living in Jersey.

I’ve wanted to live on the road since I was 18, when I toyed with the idea of taking a year off from college, throwing a mattress in the back of my Nissan Pathfinder, and driving around the country talking to people. I still regret chickening out. Since then, I’ve been pushing van life off into “the future.”

Doug first started thinking about it in 2016, when he stumbled across some van life vignettes on YouTube. He floated the idea of living in an RV to his ex, but she dismissed it. Which was for the best; disagreements about van life were kinda the least of their problems. Doug never wanted an RV anyway.

Why not?

The short answer: Because RVs are expensive and corny.

The long answer: When I was a Peace Corps Volunteer in Malawi, I lived in a one-room house with no electricity. I had to get my water from the well, and I pooped in a hole. My friend lived in a house with electricity and indoor plumbing. It was nice by Malawian village standards, but not by American ones. My friend’s home was basically a depressing apartment; mine was an authentic Malawian experience.

I’d rather live in a van that knows it’s a van than a U-Haul that’s pretending to be a house.

Doug’s into how stealthy and clandestine a van can be. You could park in any residential neighborhood if you needed to, and no one would think anything of it. And building it out has been a satisfying personal project.

“I’m really into repurposing things,” he told me. “Like all the wood that I had in the attic, it’s been a pleasure reusing that and giving it new life. I feel like buying an RV would have been more impersonal and therefore less of an adventure.”

I couldn’t agree more. In Malawi, I was inspired by how people would repair and repurpose everything. (The most impressive example was seeing a bike mechanic patch a flat by tying it shut with a scrap from a plastic bag). Not only is it good for the planet, it also saves money — which is pretty important when a bike mechanic and a seasonal worker decide to build a home together. All told, this project will end up costing about $43,500, including the cost of the van. It’s a lot, but it’s not unattainable. If we can do it, so can you.  

welcome to brooke and doug's van conversion build journal!

Hey! We’re Brooke and Doug. We’re one of those millennial van life couples you’ve heard so much about.

omg look how cute we are!

lol jk we’re just regular goobs like everybody else!

How long have you been dating?

9 months.

And you’re moving into a van together?

Yep! I think our experiences so far have given us the tools to handle it.

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At the end of the day, being with Doug feels right, so I’m going with it. Worst-case scenario is we break up, and isn’t that always the worst-case scenario?

Why are you the one writing the build journal when Doug’s the one building the van?

Because Doug’s busy building the van. Enter Brooke! I can work a sander and fetch tools like a champ, but my real talent is finishing art projects. Also, this gives me a chance to appreciate all the hard work Doug put into building our home.

Aren’t there like a million other build journals already?

Yep! They’ve been a huge inspiration for this whole project, from the first van life YouTube video Doug clicked on in 2016 right up to today.

This review from Far Out Ride got me on board with composting toilets.

This Parked in Paradise calculator made a daunting electrical task easier.

And this one from Outbound Living oh my god.

This build journal probably won’t be that detailed. I envision this as a way to give readers a realistic idea of what goes into building a van, and maybe a little inspiration too.

Do you have construction experience?

Me? God no. I’ve wanted to try van life for years, but I wouldn’t have known where to begin building it out. This clothing rack is the most complicated thing I’ve ever built:

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But I’ve been on lots of adventures, including a thru-hike, a long bike tour, and working as a trucker. I like living simply, and I’m great at planning and sticking to a budget — you know, all the hard/tedious/scary work that lies between reality and the dream.

Doug’s a talented mechanic: He can fix a bicycle, a bowling pin-setting machine, and an F/A-18E fighter jet. Plus he builds birdhouses and weird guitars.

Lots of impressive skills, but none of them specific to homebuilding or vehicle repair. So I guess the answer is no, we don’t really know what we’re doing. We’re still gonna do it anyway.