Don’t Know Your Next Step? Do This.

After graduating college, I got a fun summer job, fell in love with a guy and moved with him to Australia. As fun and carefree as that sounds, it was actually one of the most stressful, unsure times in my life.

The summer was fun. I was leading adventure trips, something I was comfortable doing. When the summer was over, I had no plans, so I took a job with my new boyfriend in China. His plan after China was to move to Australia for a year– the exchange rate was great and he saw it as a good opportunity to save money.

He was right. We saved a ton of money. But for a lot of my time in Australia, I felt totally lost.

I had a full-time job in a camping supply store, complete with petty co-worker gossip and work stress. Meanwhile, all the friends I graduated with in New York were getting their first jobs at creative agencies, magazines and trendy startups. I questioned constantly if I was doing the “right” thing for myself. What career was I building? Was I being true to myself? What did I really want to do with my life? I didn’t have answers to any of those questions.

When I look back on that time now, I see something truly formative. I asked myself those questions at age 23, and I only have the answers three years later because I pushed myself through all the times when I didn’t know and had to tell myself it was okay. There were a lot of those times.

If you feel like I did, here is my advice for you.

Stop overthinking everything. Stop thinking that the next decision you make is going to determine the rest of your life– it’s not. The decisions you make in your lifetime are building blocks, small steps that help you turn pages in a book. You don’t know how long the book is going to be.

So do something. Do anything. And keep going, because you will find the answers you are looking for eventually– probably in a place you never, ever thought to look.

Work in a restaurant at least once. You will meet people who surprise you. You will learn skills that you’ll carry with you everywhere. It will surprise you.

Volunteer your time and your heart. To someone who can use it. Someone who needs it. Work in a soup kitchen. Work in an animal shelter. Don’t do it because it feels good or because you can say you did, but because it’s necessary.

Work on a farm. Learn to get your hands dirty. Learn and appreciate where your food comes from. Get sunburned. Get full on food you grew yourself. Learn how to slaughter a chicken and how to plant strawberries.

Do yoga. Go hiking. Go to a part of town you haven’t been to before.

Journal often.

Talk to people who are much older than you. Learn their stories. Talk to children. Learn their stories, too.

Buy a plane ticket with no return plans. If you are limited by money, learn about money. Sell the stuff you aren’t using and the clothes you no longer wear. Work hard.

Seek out people you want to be like. Take them out for coffee. Ask them meaningful questions. Never stop asking.

Read. If you don’t like to read, download audiobooks and listen.

Stop acting like you live twice. You get one life to live one time. It’s not worth it to think about the times you fucked up. We all fuck up and we will all make mistakes every single day. You will figure it out.

Go live. Go live now. Even if you don’t know where to start, just start. The starting, the doing, the living– that’s the important part.

Photos by Ali V. Find her on Instagram at @alisonvagnini.


How to Find Adventure in Every Day

I’m not writing this from a tricked out Sprinter van, or sitting in a hammock. I’m writing this from my kitchen table in Colorado. It’s 4pm, and I haven’t left the house yet today.

If you offered me a plane ticket to Mexico for later tonight, I’d probably take it. But it would be a hard choice. Because as much as I love to travel, to explore, to be waist-deep in water in some cave in New Zealand, to be somewhere that isn’t “home,” I also love sitting in my kitchen drinking coffee all day, writing, working.

I love my home life, my life with a routine, with brunch, just as much as I love my more adventurous pursuits. And it’s a completely different love, but an important one.

To love the adventure in your every day, you have to eat well. Stop eating fast food if you feel like crap the next day. Drink a lot of water. Limit the amount of alcohol you consume and how late you stay out partying. If that doesn’t speak to you, do whatever you want, but the message is that you have to stop treating your body like shit, it’s the only one you get. What you put in it affects how well you’re able to go out into the world and get stuff done.

Do something that raises your heart rate every day. Move your body. You don’t need to bend yourself into a pretzel, or be the most fit person in the gym. You don’t even have to go to a gym. Just move. Be gentle with yourself if you learn that you aren’t as strong or as flexible as you’d like to be– it just means you have a goal.

Read books, watch films, listen to interviews and learn about influential people (influential, that is, to you). Make it part of your routine, something you just do. Pick things you actually want to learn about. If you are having trouble getting through a book, read a different one. Stop judging yourself for not wanting to watch that documentary or for staring at that book you’ve been meaning to read, and fill your head with stuff you truly want to learn about instead.

Being in one place with a routine is an incredible opportunity to treat yourself really well. Recognize that opportunity and use it.

Stop being satisfied with circumstantial friends.

Pursue ambitious, insightful people who are seeking their own path to self-fulfillment and a purposeful life. Nobody with a mindset like that will think you are weird for wanting to grab a coffee with them. Surround yourself with people you are proud to know. Cherish the relationships you have with people who leave you feeling great about yourself after a phone conversation. Make them feel appreciated in return.

Find a community that likes what you like, whether it’s chess or mountain biking. There’s something for everyone, even if the community is based online.

Anyone who judges you, who makes you feel small and like you’re not enough, is someone who is not improving you. Re-allocate that person’s role in your life. Create space for what empowers you instead.

Make a list of things that scare you and a list of things you’ve been meaning to do for a while. Pick one thing from each list and do them. Maybe they are even the same. If something seems huge and far off, create steps and hold yourself accountable to do them.

Pick a project that doesn’t have to do with work. Your project can be writing. It can be building a shelf for your living room. It can be running a mile, or fifteen. It can be learning how to cook one recipe really, really well.

Make it fun, but make it challenging.

And yes, make plans for when you’re not at home. Make plans for when you want to travel, to get outside of your routine in a big way. Get excited for the things you’ll see, the people you’ll meet, the food you’ll taste and the moments that will seem to ring in your ears for years afterward. But don’t live in those moments right now. Plan them so that you can live in them fully, once you have arrived there.

Don’t give yourself the reason, “it was convenient.” Just because it fell into your lap does not mean it was ever right.

And if you are ever bored in this life, you have a huge opportunity to do something differently. Do not be satisfied with boredom, or with circumstance. Determine purpose. Determine happiness.

Nobody is happy all the time, but you are the only person who can decide what happiness means to you. Your path may not always take you there. There are times when you will feel so damn fulfilled, and times when you wish you could sleep through the pain of life. But this thing we get to experience– is incredibly short. It could be over tomorrow.

Show up for yourself, and make it worth living.


On Fear: The Time I Almost Died in Idaho

One of my worst fears when camping is unexpected company showing up when I’m in the woods, at night, by myself with no phone service. I’m way more afraid of other people than I am of animals. I’m afraid of pretty much everything you would expect me to be afraid of in a situation where I’m alone in the woods… and that fear is not only natural, but important.

I’ve been in lots of less-than-ideal situations when traveling. I’ve gotten the flu in the middle of the jungle, gotten off at wrong bus stops in the middle of nowhere, been on sketchy buses and motorbikes that looked like they were put together with paper clips. I’ve gotten myself into messy relationships and fights outside of bars in Rome (ok, that was once). I’ve had food poisoning more times than I can remember and I’ve probably, at some point, eaten dog. You get the idea. I do not recommend that you try to do any of that.

Of all of my travel experiences, the ones that have invoked fear are not few and far between. Taking taxis by myself at dawn, waiting alone in empty bus stations, walking to bars alone, and even walking by myself in broad daylight in some places has scared the shit out of me. But I’ve never been as downright afraid as I was on this one particular night in Idaho.

This past fall, I went on a big solo road trip around the western US, and I was passing through Idaho on my way back to Colorado. I had heard there were some pretty epic hot springs in Idaho, so I googled a few and planned to stop by… only I realized that it would be dark by the time I got there.

I had been sleeping in my converted car for the past six weeks and was pretty comfortable with the set-up, and with finding camping last minute. I figured there would be somewhere to camp. I was wrong. There was nowhere. It was early November, and all the campgrounds I could find were blocked off for winter.

I though to myself, “I’ve been doing this whole sleep-in-the-car thing for six weeks. I can pull over and sleep on the side of the road, no problem. People do it all the time!”

So it was 9pm, and I pulled over. I was on this woodsy windy road– not quite a highway but not a backroad either. I had avoided doing this so far on the trip, always sleeping in campgrounds, rest stops, or Wal-marts (yup). For some reason, side-of-the-road naps just freak me out, and there I was on this pull-off in some random-ass woods in Idaho getting my bed all set up for the night as my heart proceeded to beat so hard it was painful.

It was a cold, wet and misty night. Lots of horror-movie style fog. No stars, no moon, just the lights from the occasional car.

I got my curtains set up, got into bed, and locked myself in. I closed my eyes and told myself to fall asleep.

Obviously, I couldn’t. I just kept seeing bits of light creep in from passing cars, hearing them as they sped by. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how I didn’t have phone service, and how literally at any moment some creep could pull over right next to me.

And then, that’s what happened.

I peeked out of my back window to find a guy parked right behind me. He got out of his truck wearing a headlamp, and began fumbling around with something in his backseat.

My brain said, “He’s probably just getting something out of his car.”

My gut responded, “He’s going to kill you.”

All I could think was: It’s happening. My worst fear. Is. Happening.

From the inside of my car, I pulled off all the curtains I could grab, tried to flip back the hinge on my platform bed, and squeezed myself into the front seat. If you’ve ever seen my set-up in person, you know this would be logistically difficult for anyone over four feet tall. I started my car and, in the process, set off the alarm. Really smooth, Erin.

I put the seat back and peeled out of there, heart pounding, hands shaking. And because I was so curious, and also now moving at 50mph, I turned around to see what the truck man was actually doing.

When I drove by him from the comfort of my moving vehicle, I saw that he was just a normal guy with a headlamp and a towel, walking on the side of the road to the trailhead that I had parked across from. The trailhead to a hot spring.

womp womp.

womp womp.

At this point, I let out a sigh of relief that this guy was apparently not trying to kill me. But I was still on this huge adrenaline high, and so, goodbye hot spring, see you never.

I drove for two hours until I felt okay again. I pulled into a rest stop and parked in between camper trailers, which I always imagine are full of really nice old people. I stayed in bed until noon the next day.

As silly as the actual situation was, and as much as I laughed at myself when it was over, feeling like I was running for my life in a sense really knocked the wind out of me. When I did finally hit the road again the next day, it was with great regard and a sense of respect for my own intuition.

This is not about how unsafe my decisions may or may not have been. This is about trusting your gut. This is about knowing when to listen to fear, when it is very real. This is about following your intuition even though your brain might be telling you to quiet it.

I’ve probably been way closer to death crossing the street than parked on the side of that road in Idaho. I didn’t “almost die,” like the title of this piece suggests. But fear spoke to me and suggested that as a real possibility. And I listened to it.

Whenever fear speaks to you, listen to it. Identify if the fear is rational– what kind of fear is it? Good Fear is the voice that tells you something is right or it isn’t. It alerts you to danger, wants to protect you, and gives you superhuman strength when you really need it. Bad Fear is the voice that tells you to not take risks in your life, relationships, and career. It’s always asking you “what if something bad happens?” Bad Fear sucks and should be told to get out ASAP.

The hot spring would have been nice– I probably would have been fine that night. But I’m glad I listened to fear. Fear has an important place in life, and I’m thankful for the reminder.

Photos by Nate Luebbe & Austin Presas


On Being Prepared: What You Can Learn from Two Dudes I Picked Up in Yosemite

One mid-October day on my road trip, I was headed to Yosemite. It was getting to be late afternoon and I wanted to catch sunset at Glacier Point. I’m usually pretty good at being prepared– normally, I have my campsite set up by this time, but in order to catch the sunset, I decided to camp at a site just outside the park, even though it would mean getting in late.

Glacier Point was as incredible as I had imagined, pink and luminous, and by 7pm I had moved on. An hour later it was dark. After stopping to watch the rock climbers on El Capitan, I was making my way East on Tioga road when I saw two guys with their thumbs out. The look on their faces was pretty desperate. They weren’t the typical bearded, backwards hat, pants rolled at the ankles, Chacos and some kind of technical backpack climber dudes you see in Yosemite. No, these guys were pretty clean cut and didn’t have a whole lot of stuff with them. I very, very rarely pick up hitch-hikers when I travel solo, but this seemed like an exception. I pulled over.

When I picked Joe & Yo up, I was blasting Bon Iver eating peanut butter with a spoon. I explained that I didn’t have back seats because I slept in my car, so we’d all have to squeeze in the front. They probably thought I was crazy.

Exasperated, the guys expressed their thanks. Yo tried to give me $20. I laughed.

“Guys, you would have been picked up eventually,” I said.

Still, they responded, “You saved our lives!”

I asked where they were staying. Their campsite was a little bit out of the way, so I asked if they had room for another car. They said yes. Bingo, my campsite for the night.

When we got to camp, I took a better look at Joe and Yo, and of course, laughed about how their names happened to rhyme. They struck me as city boys, and when I asked, they confirmed that yes, they came from San Francisco for a quick camping trip. It was probably around 45 degrees at this point, about 9pm.

I felt a little guilty as I cooked a huge feast and they heated up their cans of soup on a brand-new-tags-still-on MSR Pocket Rocket, which I did assure them, is a great stove. Joe started making a fire. I somewhat resisted the urge to help.

I asked how they got themselves in a situation where they had to be picked up on the side of Tioga Road by some girl with a car bed. Joe pulled out the map they give you when you roll into the park.

“Well, last time I was here, I went this far,” he measured with his fingers. “And so I figured I could go this far.” He laughed a little, probably recognizing that he sounded a little ridiculous. I tried really hard to not to give him my “Holy Shit, That Was Dumb” face.

Joe wasn’t even sure if the whole path they took was on the map.

From what he could guess, it seemed like it had been a 16 mile day, including a summit. And they had done it with a liter of water each, no backcountry map, and definitely no headlamps.

Joe and Yo were lucky, but not only because I picked them up. There are just so many things that could have gone wrong on their hike that day that I was frankly amazed that having to hitch-hike was the worst thing that happened to them!

Here are some of the basics that the guys should have considered, and what you can learn from them.

And this is what that sunset looked like, in case you were wondering.Beautiful and humbling in many ways.

How long is the hike?

And is there elevation gain? Understand what 16 miles feels like. If you’ve never hiked before, that’s gonna be painful… and dangerous. The Visitor’s Center at any National Park will be an excellent resource, and Park Rangers can recommend great hikes. Make it a priority to check in with a Ranger at the Visitor’s Center to ask about conditions and get recommendations for your time in any National Park.

What do we pack?

Once you know what hike you are going on and have an estimate of how long that will take you, consider what you should bring. If this is going to be an all-day event, bring at least two liters of water… more (sometimes even double) if it’s hot. Bring food for the day. Bring synthetic or wool layers, a hat and sunscreen if it’s sunny, and a rain jacket if there is any precipitation whatsoever in the forecast. I was taught to always bring a rain jacket, but I know people that forego it if the weather forecasts a bluebird day. Bring a small first aid kit and a headlamp. You never know when you’ll need it.

Should we tell someone where we are going?

Yes, yes and yes. Let someone know what trail you are headed on, and when they can expect you back.

Overall, know the weather, the time the sun is setting, and your limits. Don’t push it or try to be a superhero– mother nature will always win.

I don’t know a single mountaineer, climber, or hiker who has never been in a situation where they felt underprepared… and often, they thought they had taken every precaution. The message is this: understand what you are getting yourself into and be prepared. Plan for the unexpected so that if and when it happens, you can get yourself out of trouble ASAP.

Know what you are getting yourself into and you will be able to enjoy nature so much more.

Know what you are getting yourself into and you will be able to enjoy nature so much more.

These are the basics. Obviously, they are important. If you’re interested in learning even more about the backcountry, I recommend taking a course– REI, NOLS, and the Sierra Club offer courses, events and outings, just to name a few organizations that offer them. There are also plenty of organizations at the local level that host outings, often free of charge– make it your business to find one. Fuel your passion by arming yourself with knowledge.

Thanks to Yo and Joe for insisting that I make an example of them!


Full Time Travel: How to Get Started

And this is what that sunset looked like, in case you were wondering.

One of the biggest questions I get goes like this: I’m at a point in my life where I want to travel/blog/do photography, but I am not sure where to start.

The question “Where do I start?” is one that I ask myself on a daily basis.

The first thing is: figure out if you are really ready to do this thing. When I started traveling, many of my friends would tell me I was so lucky and that they were so jealous. The truth is, they could have been doing the same thing, but they always made excuses for themselves: not having time, needing to work in whatever place, needing to stay put, “just can’t.” I could have made those same excuses for myself, but I chose not to.

So if you really want to do this, commit to the idea.

There is no “right way” to make travel and adventure your full-time lifestyle. There’s no step-by-step guide that can 100% guarantee that your travels will be safe, happy and life-changing. Be prepared to learn as you go.

So, where do you start? 

1. Start Saving

Money is a necessary evil. You are going to need to make a few initial purchases: maybe a flight, maybe gear, maybe a visa. Figure out how to save. Money is the number one reason people give me for not being able to travel. If you want it bad enough, you can make it happen, even if it takes you a little longer than someone else to save the same amount.

Really take a hard look at your spending. Eliminate everything you possibly can, down to the dollar. Down to the cent. Do not buy lattes, do not go out to eat, limit nights out with friends. If you are really committed to your new life of travel, do everything you possibly can to put money towards it. Your friends and family might think this is a bit aggressive… and that’s because it is.

Aggressively saving money might make your life less convenient for a while. Trust yourself that you have made this decision, and trust that it will be worth it once you are on your trip.

Worth it.

Worth it.

2. Decide Where To Go

Do some research (and don’t let it stress you out)! There are so many cool places to go. Things to keep in mind: How long do you want to go for? How expensive are these places you are looking at? Is it easy, logistically, to travel to other countries from where you start? Will there be a language barrier? If you are planning on working, is it easy to get jobs in whatever place you’re considering?

I find it helpful to pick two or three places and weigh my options. A dollar will get you way more in Thailand than in Iceland. Australia is more expensive to leave because it is, hello, an island. Budapest is a fascinating city but is an entirely different landscape than the mountains and beaches of New Zealand. Cities? Beaches? Mountains? What are you looking for?

Think about it and narrow down your options.

There are SO many cool places.

There are SO many cool places.

3. Line Something Up

Having an idea of what you’ll be doing for your first week or two is extremely helpful, and will give you some peace of mind in what may be an otherwise unfamiliar situation. This might simply mean booking a hostel for the first few nights, but here are a few other options to think about.

Planning to WWOOF (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms) is a great idea. WWOOFing means you work on a farm in exchange for lodging and/or food. Often this is a wonderful opportunity that will teach you a lot about the place you are in. If you’re looking for a great learning experience to kick off your travels while having a base for a week or longer, this could be for you. You usually buy a membership for the country you are visiting, which will give you contact information for farms. You’ll then coordinate directly with farms regarding availability.

Another option is doing a Work-Stay or Work-Exchange. Many hostels abroad offer part time jobs in exchange for a free dorm bed. If you know what city you’d like to be in, you can email hostels directly and ask. Work exchanges aren’t only common in hostels or B&Bs, but can also look like a nanny job, or helping folks around the house. Good websites to check out are Help Exchange and Work Away.

Getting a job (like, where you get paid actual money) is also a fantastic option. In some cases, it’s possible to line up a job or internship before you arrive, even a few months in advance. I’ve found a handful of my odd jobs abroad simply by Googling it. In other cases, I prepared a resume before I arrived, then spent a few days seriously job hunting once I got to the country. If you do this, prepare to hustle.

Planning at least the first week or two of your travels is a good idea because it allows you to get your feet wet without being stressed about finding accommodation. You’ll also learn quickly how much you need to plan in order to feel comfortable. Everyone is different!

I took this photo while working in Costa Rica. Really.

I took this photo while working in Costa Rica. Really.

4. Do Your Homework

Come up with a budget and calculate your expenses. There are tons of helpful travel blogs out there that will help you figure out everything from expenses, to what to pack, to what to eat.

Find a few travel blogs you like and make reading them your favorite new hobby. Get as much information as you can– it might come in handy, even if it just inspires you to try something new on your travels. A few travel bloggers that have inspired me are Nomadic Matt, Adventurous Kate, and Alex in Wanderland. Travel bloggers have done it before. They are the experts, and loads of information about their travels is at your fingertips!

As you’re accumulating ideas and inspiration, start thinking about what you’d like to accomplish on your travels and how long you’d like to be gone. If you’re booking a round trip ticket, you already know your timeline. If your trip is open-ended, have an idea of how you are planning to fund yourself, and what you’d like to get out of the experience.

Social media can help you in terms of inspiration and networking. On my most recent trip, I met quite a few people through Instagram, and as a result, did more and had more fun! Reaching out to someone on social media can be a great idea. Of course, always use common sense and be safe when meeting people from the Internet.

I connected with people on Instagram to do this backpacking trip in the North Cascades!

I connected with people on Instagram to do this backpacking trip in the North Cascades last month. It was a hilarious and beautiful trip!

5. Go

If you are waiting for the “right” time, stop. There will never be a right time. The right time is whenever you decide it is. If you decide that the right time is now, then the right time is now. That being said, plan well. Once you have saved enough money, book your ticket. Generally speaking, tickets are cheapest about 3-4 months from the date of travel for international flights. Look this up specifically for the area you are going and you could save yourself some money.

Once you’ve picked a date, feel free to get really, really excited. You’ve taken a huge step!

One foot in front of the other!

One foot in front of the other, ya know?

I lived abroad out of my backpack for three years, and if there is one piece of advice I have for you, it’s this: Just start. Don’t think too hard about it.

There’s no one resource that will guarantee you’ll be happy and fulfill all your goals abroad. And there never will be. The only person who can make that happen is you.

I didn’t wake up one day feeling ready. I just went, even when I didn’t feel like I knew how. I wasn’t an expert. I got my first Smartphone in 2014 and starting putting photos on Instagram. I am a great example of someone who is figuring it out as they go.

If you’re reading this and thinking, “well DUH,” then Congratulations! But most people, including myself, need a push. So here it is.

The best way to get started… is to start.

Questions? I’d love to answer them. Email me.


Why I Travel Solo

Right now, I am in the middle of a solo road trip. I have seen friends along the way, and they’ve even joined me for a few days here and there. But for the majority of this trip, I’m by myself.

I have traveled solo a few times before.

The first time was in Europe. I was 21 and very intrigued by the idea of traveling solo. I thought it looked so cool and so badass. I wanted to be that girl. I remember being so nervous. It felt like a huge scary thing, but I booked tickets and forced myself to swallow my hesitations.

I couldn’t enjoy it. I was still struggling so hard with anxiety, and I hadn’t given myself any training wheels. I hadn’t given myself any cushion or safety net. I would dread the time that wasn’t scheduled– I found it difficult to go through my day without a plan, and found it even harder to make that plan for myself.

The next time I traveled solo was in Thailand. I was 24 and had just broken up with my boyfriend of two years. This time, I was prepared. I knew I would have to overcome my anxiety. I knew I would struggle with being lonely. And I also knew there would be an emotional piece to the whole thing. Because I was prepared, that trip was so good for me.

A year and a half after the Thailand trip, I decided to head out by myself again.

I did not decide to travel solo with the intention to have a fun, carefree vacation, to get cool photos, or to look like a badass. I did not decide to travel solo because I think it’s the “best” way to do it.

Here’s why I did decide to travel solo.



So much comes up when you spend all of your time by yourself. You laugh, you cry, you feel great, you feel hopeless. For me, I experience all of that in a span of approximately five minutes.

Sometimes it’s really hard to not have another person to vent to, or someone to distract me from whatever is going on in my head or heart. But what I have come to love, is that I’ve gotten really good at identifying my feelings and working through them, whatever they are. Even the messy ones. Even those feelings that, at home, I’d avoid by distracting myself with issues that seem more urgent.

Here, by myself, driving or hiking, I’m alone with my thoughts. The only option: truly listen to them and work through it all.


Decision Making

I’m a pretty indecisive person. I usually don’t really care what to eat for lunch or what to do this afternoon. Being on a road trip solo forces me to be decisive and to get stuff done.

When I had a boyfriend, I would rely on him constantly to take care of things. I knew that if I didn’t make a plan, he would. If I didn’t go food shopping, he would. I never worried or stressed about things because he was the back-up plan. He had things pretty dialed-in and organized.

Traveling alone, I am solely responsible for my safety and comfort. If I don’t go food shopping, I’m gonna be hungry. If I don’t research a place to camp for the night, I’m gonna be uncomfortable. If I don’t decide what to do on any given day, I’m gonna be sitting twiddling my thumbs without direction.

Solo travel forces me to make deliberate decisions.



I have always struggled with anxiety and still deal with it now.

Because I’m by myself, I am the only one who can communicate my needs. There may be times when I need to ask a neighbor at a campground to borrow something, or I might need to approach someone to ask for directions, or I might need to ask for a wifi password. Maybe this seems extreme, but all of that would have made me unbelievably anxious a few years ago.

In situations where previously I would have relied on someone else, now I only rely on myself. Because I have to. Because I have put myself in this situation.


In short, I travel solo to learn. It’s often uncomfortable and rarely easy. But I have always come out of it stronger and wiser.

Solo travel will always be a part of my life. It will always be a way to learn. Will I always travel solo? Do I “prefer” it? Of course not. Solo travel is a completely different experience than traveling with someone else. There is a time and place for it, and it might not be appropriate for everyone.

Solo travel has taught me how to trust my gut and listen to myself, but it’s also taught me how to be resilient. It’s taught me about time management, menu planning and finances. It’s taught me about balance and happiness.

So that’s why I’m doing it.

I don’t hope this inspires you to try solo travel. I hope it inspires you to do something that teaches you about yourself, whatever that is.


How to Turn Your SUV into a Camper

This conversion is specific to my 2009 Honda CR-V, but principles can be applied to any vehicle.

I want a van. I’m about to head out on a road trip for the next six weeks, and having a van would be perfect. But I don’t have a van. I have an SUV. A Honda CR-V, to be exact.

I really like the idea of being able to have a comfortable bed pretty much anywhere, so I decided to build one in the back of my car. Here is a step-by-step guide to turning your SUV into a camper.


Do you need to take out the back seats? If your back seats fold down flat, skip this step.

If you’re like me, you’ll first watch some YouTube videos on how to remove the back seats from your car. Procure a socket wrench or other tools you might need.

Clean your car. Take everything out. All of the things to the garage! Take the seats out of your car and put them somewhere. The only tool I needed was a socket wrench, and taking out the seats took me all of 15 minutes. Have a victory beer. Or don’t, but I did.

No seats no problem!

No seats no problem!


Time to start thinking about your design. My design is a plywood platform in three parts, using 4x4s for legs. I placed the middle legs slightly off center to accommodate a storage bin. Because the floor of my car is uneven, measuring was a bit more complicated than if your car’s floor is completely flat.

Things to consider: How big do you want it to be? Do you want to be able to remove the platform easily? How will you be storing gear? Do you want to access storage from the back and/or sides?

Measure out the dimensions for the wood you are going to need. Having a friend help you with this comes in really handy. Go to Home Depot or equivalent with the measurements and have them cut it. Buy screws if you don’t have them. I used 3/4″ drywall screws.


Assemble the platform.

For me, it was definitely crucial to have someone help get everything in the car (thank you Henry!). We put all the pieces in the car (propped up) and tried to visualize what it would look like nailed together. It became clear that it made sense to actually put everything together inside the car, rather than taking it out and trying to put the pieces back in once assembled.

Platform assembled! Victory. Next, I put another piece of plywood near the front seats, attached with a hinge. This is an easy way to extend the length of your platform when you move the front seats forward. When you want to drive, just flip it back and move the seats.

how the hinge works

how the hinge works


Before you go any further, vacuum any sawdust and crap out of your car. Next, you can start planning storage and bedding.

I first put a mover’s blanket down on the platform. Alternatively, you can buy carpet and even staple it to the plywood. I wasn’t feeling picky about it.

For bedding, I bought two foam mattress toppers (think egg crates) that were on sale and put them on top of eachother. I then covered them with a full size fitted sheet to keep them in place. Sheets, blankets and pillows are up to you, but I wanted to be the coziest person in the world, so I went big on this.

One great thing about having a platform bed is the storage space underneath. Under the platform, I am keeping all of my gear, clothes, food, cooking stuff, a folding table, a camp chair, a cooler and too many pairs of shoes. Figure out a system that is both easy and organized, and one that works for you.


You’re probably going to want some kind of window covering. Curtains are a good option. Instead, I used Reflectix (buy at any home improvement store, comes in a big roll) and cut it to size. This means no curtains swinging around, and no velcro or tape needed. I am really happy with how these turned out– nobody can see in my car, plus the insulation will keep me a bit warmer.

Maybe I can put my car on Airbnb.

Maybe I can put my car on Airbnb now?

How much did it cost?

  • $56 for wood and hardware
  • $21 for Reflectix
  • $53 for foam
  • $71 for bedding and pillows

So in total, this project cost me $201, plus the cost of a cooler, folding table, and some storage bins. If you already have some extra bedding you like, I bet you could easily do this for $120 or less.

What are the dimensions of the platform?

When the hinge is extended, total length is 72″ and width is 41″. Height is 15″ from the very back of the car.

I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. I’m heading out today to start my road trip and I’m super excited! I’m supposed to stay at a friend’s house tonight, but I honestly might just park in her driveway so I can sleep in my new camper.

Questions? Let me know in the comments!

UPDATE: Do you have an SUV or car to camper conversion you would like me to feature on my blog? Shoot me an email at I would love to hear from you!