The Maiden Voyage
After spending months of research, six weeks of building, and my entire life savings on the big van build, it was almost time to hit the road.
I loved showing off my van to friends and family and by passers as we were outside working. My Mom, Dad and I invested countless hours into the build, pouring so much love and thought into it that by the time it was finished, we felt like we were showing off a newborn baby. People always asked something along the lines of: “Where’s your first stop! What’s your plan! Are you just going to travel the country?!” and my response was: “I’m going straight west on I-80 to make money.” After all, the build sucked me dry of all monetary value.
June 27, 2018
As the arbitrary departure date was approaching fast, we scrambled to clean all of the sawdust out of the van, pack it with my belongings, and secure everything down for when we are underway. My mom booked a last minute flight home to New York from Salt Lake City so she could join me on part of the drive. Packed and ready(ish), we were on our merry way to the western half of the country.
If we took photos of the first night sleeping in the van, it would be least glamorous #vanlife post you ever did see. You see, there were wild thunderstorms and tornado warnings targeting the great planes, and we were on a mission to outrun those suckers. After driving for 18 hours straight – only stopping to fill the gas tank – we called it a night at a truck stop somewhere in Iowa. I was too exhausted to even make note of exactly where we were. We slept for four hours and hopped right back on the interstate, with hopes of outrunning the torrential downpours and lightning that surrounded us.. That, my friends, is where it all went downhill.
June 29, 2018
My mom was driving and I was lounging in the passenger seat; we were listening to some audiobook about the corrupt tomato industry that never seemed to end. Mom turned off the book… “The van isn’t driving right. I have no power”. It’s fiiiiine I said, convincing myself I could still hear the whistling of the turbo whenever we accelerated. After a few minutes, “No really, Anna, we have no power”. By this point, we were halfway through Nebraska. We pulled off of the next exit and to our dismay, the van began downshifting hard, jolting and shuttering as we came to a stop on a dirt road that parted the cornfield sea. It seemed like a fitting place to rest and evaluate our next steps in diagnosing the problem.
A handful of phone calls, two auto-parts stores, and 1 friendly Napa employee later, we finally found a shop in the town next door that would have a look at my van. It was at this point in time that I learned how difficult it is to find someone that will even look at the engine of a Sprinter, let alone dive in and work on it. Certified Sprinter mechanics are like endangered king cobras, and only savvy snake charmers can locate them. So on we puttered a few miles to a dodge dealership in the cutest, friendliest little town of Seward, Nebraska.
We posted up in a coffee shop while the van sat with the mechanic #2 for hours on end. It was nearly 5 o’clock before we were informed that the damage done was above and beyond what their mechanics could hand – go figure. We were back to square one, calling all shops within a reasonable distance.
“Hi! Do you service Mercedes Sprinter Vans?”
“Nope.”
“Do you know anyone who does?”
“Nope.”
It was 7pm by the time we had the van towed to Lincoln, Nebraska, where we found a shop that claimed they had the time (yay!) and resources (woohoo!) to diagnose and repair the van. We finally acknowledged our empty stomachs and treated ourselves to a local Thai restaurant – side note: I have YET to find bad Thai food. We eventually made our way back to the auto shop parking lot, where we watched the most beautiful full moon rise over the city had a great night’s sleep in the van, regardless of the city bustle and sweltering heat and humidity.
June 30, 2018
Mom and I woke up with the city early the next morning feeling refreshed, optimistic about whatever repairs needed to done and ready to get back on the road as soon as possible. The (#3) mechanic we contacted the day prior sat us down to “have a chat” as soon as the shop opened, and squished every ounce of optimism we had mustered up. He threw out some ungodly prices for the repair, a timeframe which dismantled all plans I made for the near future, and used terms such as “really, really bad” and “totally screwed” to describe the damage. To be clear, he had not even lifted to hood to the van yet.. his diagnosis was solely based on the symptoms we described to him and his research the evening prior. So Mom and I did what we do best and found the nearest coffee shop to post up in, do some research and figure out our next steps.
Since the mechanic told me I could not live in the van while it undergoes major engine repairs, we decided to rent a car and drive one state over to a more magical place known as Denver, Colorado. I felt much more comfortable surrounded by the familiar mountains and friendly faces of Colorado than the Nebraskan cornfield-abyss. Mom rebooked her flight home to New York out of Denver rather than our original destination of Salt Lake City, Utah, and I began my mini tour de Colorado as I patiently waited for more news on the van.
July 12, 2018
Fast-forward two weeks, a handful of mountain towns along I-70 and a couple dozen friends later, I drove back to Nebraska to pick up my beloved van child, this time accompanied by my dad. We crashed in a hotel, as the van needed a couple of finishing touches in the morning.
July 13, 2018
My birthday! I brought the mechanics donuts, they gave me a “birthday girl discount” on the repair, and Dad and I were off on our merry way to Salt Lake City. The repairs ended up to be ten times cheaper than we were originally quoted. The mechanic basically put together the pieces of a mistake the first mechanic made back in New York. The van is driving fine, except for a mysterious whizzing noise upon acceleration. Feeling on top of the WORLD, nothing is stopping us today!
July 17, 2018
This is it. Excited energy pulsed through my veins as I drove from Mccall, Idaho to the Columbia River Gorge, en route to my final destination of Hood River, Oregon. I made it about 70 miles until the turbo shut down, the check engine light popped, and I wound up visiting a sketchy mechanic (#4) on a backroad somewhere on the Idaho/Oregon boarder.
“I see the problem, but I don’t feel comfortable fixing it.”
Classic. Thanks for your honestly mister dude. I spent that night in the parking lot of a diesel repair shop in Nampa, Idaho.
July 18/19, 2018
I called a handful of shops in the area and visited mechanics #5 and #6. #6 found the problem and fixed it while I frolicked around Boise, Idaho with an old friend for the day. The repair lasted 70 miles until once again, the turbo shut down and I was crawling up the hills of I-84 west towards the gorge. Almost expecting this to happen, I just kept chugging along, and rolled into Hood River at 2 in the morning. Victory was mine (kind of). I took the weekend to settle in, have fun and put my van woes aside.
July 25, 2018
Mechanic #7. A true Sprinter shop. Nothing. But. Sprinters. I mustered up what little trust and faith I had left in mechanics and let the shop in Tualatin, Oregon dig into the engine.
“I feel bad for you” the mechanic said, referring to the multiple leaks in the turbo system due to negligence of previous mechanics. The job would take longer than anticipated (go figure) so I made an appointment and returned the following week.
July 31, 2018
Back to #7 today. The sweet service manager gave me updates every hour or so on the status of the van, as if he was a nurse assuring the worried mom in the waiting room that her child is doing fine in surgery. I spent the night at a cousin’s house in a near town, and picked up the van the next day. “It’s doing 85% better” the mechanic assured me. “Ohhhhhkay thanks?” The exhaust leak in the right manifold would be headache for the future, and I took the keys and made my way back to Hood River.
Even though journey was pretty freaking sweet, I am STOKED to spend the next few weeks kiteboarding, biking, cooking and loving life in the Columbia River Gorge 🙂
Beauty & friendships encountered while the van was in the shop:
