Exhausted from the 9-to-5 hustle, my partner and I sold most of our belongings and built an old 1996 Chevy Express conversion van into a tiny home.
We’d previously been living in the suburbs of St. Louis, and we were ready for a little more adventure and excitement. We wanted something different than anything we were used to.
When we found out we were pregnant around two years later, we knew it was time for some roots, and we found an off-grid home on 40 acres in northern New Mexico. Both experiences were amazing and exciting, yet stressful and exhausting in their own ways.
Van life gave us freedom and flexibility
Jayme Serbell
Traveling around and living in a van full-time was as epic as it sounds.
Our monthly bills were significantly lower than we were used to: We mainly paid for gas, insurance, and the occasional campground.
We could go anywhere we wanted to, whenever we wanted to. We were able to work from our computer next to a babbling river or while watching the sunrise over Grand Teton.
We went on epic hikes with our dogs, and explored parts of the country we never would have visited otherwise — the pockets of this country that are hours from the nearest airport.
We worked when we decided it was work time, played when we wanted to play, visited friends and family when we were in their general area, and met other quirky travelers who were soaking up this type of freedom.
Van life wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, though
We learned early on that this lifestyle came with some high costs (and I’m not talking financial ones). We thrived on routine, but it was hard to establish much of one when we were picking up our lives and relocating to another city or state every week or so.
It felt like as soon as we’d get into a rhythm, we’d end up packing the van to head to relocate and start over again. Most of the time, we had only a general idea of where we’d park the van next.
We usually opted not to stay at established campgrounds. This helped us save money, but it did add a layer of stress. We rarely knew exactly where we would sleep, or what a spot would be like once we got there. We also needed a sliver of cell service to work, which wasn’t always guaranteed.
Another issue we discovered about van life? You’re the same person in the van as you are in the house, only the walls are smaller. This amplifies any more challenging traits.
If you’re messy, your van will start to feel very overwhelming, very quickly. If you have big emotions, they will be amplified by that fiberglass shell.
We decided to trade the road for an off-grid home
Jayme Serbell
An unexpected pregnancy made us realize we were ready for a more permanent home base and wanted to start our journey to parenthood.
We weren’t specifically looking for off-grid property, but knew we wanted space in a remote area. We hit the jackpot when we found a fully off-grid home in New Mexico on 40 acres with a detached workshop.
We were mostly ecstatic, but there was a part of me grieving the nomadic identity I’d wrapped myself in the previous years.
Our off-grid home gave us space and independence
Jayme Serbell
We quickly fell in love with our new home. We enjoyed the view of the mountains and the ability to do or build whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted to.
We also adored the unexpected perks of off-grid living, like how a wood-fired stove “warms you three different times” — when you stack the wood, when you chop the wood, and finally, when you burn the wood.
There was also the time we made food and watched TV, completely clueless about the fact that all our neighbors were in the midst of a power outage.
Just like living in a van, though, off-grid life came with trade-offs. Our well pump was electric. During one snowstorm, our solar panels weren’t getting enough power.
We had to run a generator, but it wasn’t enough, so we scooped up buckets of snow, melted them over the stove, and used the melted liquid to dump into our toilets so we could flush them. Little joys of off-grid living!
After 2 years, we pivoted again
It wasn’t until our son was born that we had another epiphany. We were so far from a hospital and our family. It was time for something new.
We’re grateful for both our adventures in the van and our solitude on the off-grid property. They challenged us and nourished us in their own ways, delivering lessons we needed for both those chapters in our lives. Plus, they gave us some epic stories to share around the campfire.
We now live in a beautiful part of St. Louis near an enormous park with friendly neighbors, loads of kids, and endless nearby shops and restaurants we can reach on foot.
This isn’t what we expected for ourselves, but just like the van and the off-grid property, this perfectly serves us for where we are right now.
