When I was a teenager, I dreamed of a setup like this: a large truck, a big box on the back to sleep in, and no reason to deal with anybody on the planet anymore. It made sense in my head, but anytime that plan was discussed with anyone else, I was “weird” and “anti-social” and “the next Unabomber”. Twenty years later, let’s take a look at where I stand: I still want a big truck with a box on the back where I can disappear for days on end and not have to deal with anyone I don’t want to. Those same people who thought that program was weird? If they’re lucky they pawn their kids off on their parents, bolt to the nearest big city, get a hotel room, get drunk, realize that their partying days are behind them and spend two days getting over a hangover.
Nah, I’m not bitter in the least.
Here’s the details behind this: I get true camping, I do. But I also have been true camping, both on my own and courtesy of the military. I’ve had a herd of coyotes checking out my tent at two in the morning. I’ve gone fourteen days with just wet washrags, bar soap, baby wipes and baby powder to clean up with. I’ve had freak rainstorms hit in the middle of the night after the weatherman phoned in a half-assed weather report. Tent camping can be really cool when done right, but for everything else, a conversion setup like this former ambulance rules all. I’d sleep like a baby and all the coyotes could do is whizz on my tires.
