Camping in the driveway

Origins

As per usual in my life, it seems that I’m only grasping towards the mountaineering rope only when I’m teetering off the cliff. This time is no different as I proverbially grasp for dear life when facing the rocks below. Yes, this is a most obvious exaggeration although it doesn’t seem that way sometimes when you’re in the moment. Perhaps I’m just oblivious to the comparative state I’m actually in. I don’t know.

Truth be told, I’m quite an anxious person given to breaking down when the world socks me in the jaw as I race towards its fist. I am also very sensitive to high-pitched noises as well as interruptions when I’m trying to concentrate. I think that these idiosyncratic parts are leading me to my devolvement as a person. Nobody seems to be taking any of this seriously. They must think that I’m joking or being manipulative. I don’t want people to know these things, but it’s probably obvious to everyone while I’m simultaneously being oblivious to their observations about it.

As it stands, my latest round of internalized trauma being that Otis, my beloved black cat, may have brought back some parasitic friends with him, also known as fleas, when he escaped the other day. I could control the problem with the dogs, as they were confined to the downstairs by a gate within the first few steps of the stairway. The cats are typically indoors. I have made the mistake of letting Otis peruse around the backyard while I serve as warden because it made him happy. He’s been pretty good for about a couple of weeks. Because he was being good, I started supervising less and less. As a result, he wandered off the property. I couldn’t find him after I was looking for him for a few hours. It wasn’t more than an hour before I noticed he was missing. There’s more to the story, but since this is a blog about vanning, we’ll shorten it to him coming back on his own accord later that afternoon.

Unfortunately, his excursion led me to my current problem. When you see them jumping on your pants, you have a really big problem. When I saw one in my bedroom, I freaked out. I couldn’t sleep there. In choosing a place to sleep, it was an opportunity to test out the built-in bench/bed option in the van.

While carrying my normally inaccessible sleeping bag and Therm-a-rest ground layer that were stored in a side closet, a pillow, ice water, Amazon Tap, iPhone, temperature/humidity gauge, and my keys, I made the trip to the van. After doing so, I wanted to make a head count of the pets before heading to my newly found sleeping capsule. What do you know? Otis was missing again. I honestly don’t know how he got out.

Using Bailey, my dog with the largest, most smellifunctary nose, we canvassed the back yard looking for him since he wasn’t anywhere in the house. I was about to give up and wait for him to reappear, but Bailey wouldn’t come back inside; giving me a sad look telling me that she wanted to keep looking for him.

I have to say that Bailey was right. We kept looking and smelling around. Bailey’s bark (and nose) told me that Otis was hiding out underneath my S10 pickup. From there, Otis moved to under the settee (one of the new words I learned from my wife; it’s a wicker bench) on the front porch, and then within the key lime hydrangeas from which I snatched him up and put him back inside. I really have to diligently watch the doors because he wants to run out at every opportunity now. It helps that he wears a bright orange collar with his name and my phone number embroidered upon it.

So I was finally able to attempt some rest, but Bailey insists on going with me. This partly made me very anxious because I was really tired and I felt that the dog was restricting my freedom. It is really sweet that she wants to tag along, but sometimes, I just want to be alone. The only way I could get away, without a commotion, was to leave via the front door and come back around to the side of my house. Even now, Otis is perched over my left forearm as I’m typing this blog. These pets are clingy.

The Pod

I finally arrived at the pod ready to convert the bench to the bed, lay out my sleeping bag that I hadn’t used since Paddlefest 2016, and sleep away. The first thing that I had to do was get some light, which was supplied by my sidelights. Their power source was converted from the starter battery to the solar-powered one. I have not had the money to change the incandescent bulbs to LED yet. The current ones use a lot of energy, so I was cognizant to limit their use. The quality and brightness are really inadequate, so a better solution needs to be realized. Unfortunately, a lack of money means a lack of everything except for the idea (I’ll bet there’s a pun in the previous sentence somewhere.)

My next task was to charge my phone. This was made quite easy due to the USB ports I installed on the side. Next, turning on the Fantastic Fan to get some cool air as well as to help forestall any condensation from forming inside the van.

When using an exhaust fan, it’s important to not open all the windows, but a chosen one in order to direct the breeze to a desired location. Keeping this in mind, I opened one of the rearward side windows with the screen so that the breeze came right to me as I lay on the bed. It was really surprising how much air came through this one window at the Fantastic Fan’s lowest setting. One might say that it was fantastic. The cool air certainly felt great.

The other fantastic feature is that the exhaust fan was blowing all night while charging my phone on my single 105 aH AGM 12-volt battery with lots of energy to spare. How much? The voltage monitor was reading 12.3 volts. I’m not sure what this means as a percentage of what the battery could hold though. I didn’t think to hook up my percentage monitor. Of course, it’s only accurate when there’s no load on the battery. Otherwise, I think that it underreports what’s left.

As far as the bed/bench is concerned (should we call it a mobile settee), it wasn’t long enough for me. I am 5’8” (173 cm) tall. It wasn’t unusable, but my feet were just hanging off the bed. If I were any taller, it would definitely be a problem. Sleeping diagonally would be an option when I am the only one sleeping here.

The cushioning, while entirely suitable for bench seating, is barely adequate as a bed. I could feel, albeit barely, the metal bars separating the sections. It just wasn’t soft and thick enough to be a bed for more than a couple of days. I would suspect having back trouble if sleeping on it for more than that. Perhaps I could have tried the Therm-a-rest padding, but I was using that to prop up my head instead. For another night, I’ll try this and use something else to do that.

Other than the cushioning concerns, it was comfortable. The van’s inside temperature was in the 60s (16ºC), but its humidity was over 80%. I’m thinking that I need some solution, such as silica-gel, to mitigate the high humidity. I’m sure that these conditions are helping to breed lots of mold.

The morning after

It was really nice to wake up this way. Having natural sunlight gradually entering the confines and hearing the sounds of the street was nice. I may be writing from a perspective of novelty, but I liked it. It’s like I was a kid camping out in the back yard, except that I’m a pathetic 48-year-old man camping in my driveway.

Bailey, Ching, and Otis were quite happy to see me as they all greeted me. Gandalf the cat was also happy, but due to his dog fears, sequestered himself to the stairs.

Conclusion

So, should I keep the existing bed/bench combo? For now, I have no choice but to keep it. But, when I get more funds, I will explore replacing it with a bed/bench solution. Perhaps I could have a bench with a slide out for the bed part. Additionally, having a much thicker foam mattress in lieu of what exists now will make for a much better experience. I will have to design something, but in conjunction with my storage and kitchen needs. However, the top is not tall enough for me to stand. Perhaps I'll make it have an outdoor kitchen instead. My other, much larger problems, still have to be addressed.