A few days ago, the view from my office window was a parking lot in Ohio. Today, it’s a mountain. And honestly, that’s exactly why I built a rolling office. There isn’t anything particularly glamorous about working from a parking lot. You make some coffee, open the laptop, fire up the second monitor, and get to work. Code doesn’t particularly care whether there’s a mountain outside the window or a row cars.
Good morning from Iowa. Last night wasn’t spent at a campground with a lake view. There was no fire crackling outside, no mountain silhouette in the distance, and definitely no resort waiting on the other side of the door. It was a rest stop. And you know what? Sometimes the best night could be at a rest stop in Iowa. There’s something oddly peaceful about pulling off the highway after a long day of driving.
Some offices have a view of the parking lot. Mine changes every few days. Today I’m writing this from my van, parked somewhere in Ohio on my way to Colorado. Outside the window is another snapshot of America passing by. In a few days, the flat fields will give way to mountains, and my office window will have an entirely different view. That’s one of my favorite things about working on the road.
Well… sort of. Before anyone gets too excited and starts looking for the secret homesteading loophole where vegetables, rice, spices, and olive oil magically appear without a trip to the grocery store, let me clarify: the power I used to cook dinner was free. The food itself? Absolutely not free. The grocery store remains stubbornly committed to charging me for things. But the energy that cooked the meal came from the sun.
There is something about camp cooking that makes me want to try things I would never bother doing at home. Maybe it is the challenge, or maybe it is just that everything feels a little more satisfying outside. Either way, on this trip, I decided to see if I could bake a cookie on my camping stove using a mini pizza stone and a mini grill hood. And somehow, it worked.
When people think about staying warm in vanlife, they usually picture diesel heaters, propane systems, electric blankets, or thick sleeping bags. But one of the most efficient and underrated ways to stay comfortable is much simpler: a heated foot mat. A heated foot mat works so well because it delivers low-wattage, direct heat exactly where your body feels it most. Instead of trying to warm all the air inside the van, it warms your feet directly.
There is something about a campfire that changes the whole mood of a campsite. Before the fire is lit, camp can feel practical. You are setting up chairs, unpacking food, finding a headlamp, and figuring out where you put the lighter. Then the fire catches. A little smoke curls upward. The flames start moving through the wood. The light warms your face. Suddenly, everything slows down. A campfire does not just provide heat.
There are certain foods that are less about the thing itself and more about what you put on top of it. Oatmeal is one of those foods. A hot dog is another. And the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that the hot dog might just be the lunch version of oatmeal. Stay with me here. Oatmeal, all by itself, is not exactly exciting. Plain oatmeal has the personality of wet cardboard.