How Van Dwelling Can Get in Your Blood

The year was 1972, as a young man of 22 I was in the military and stationed on the east coast in North Carolina. Interestingly enough as the owner of one pretty sharp looking 1971 Mustang I was for what ever reason dissatisfied with my mode of transportation.

Off to a used car lot in Virginia Beach VA and after a bit of haggling that midnight blue fastback was gone and in its place parked at the barracks I now had a 1970 Ford Econoline cargo van. I'm sure that car dealer cried all the way to the bank as we parted ways as he scratched his head at a loss to figure why someone would make such a trade.

Personal storage space and privacy are two things the military has precious little of. Within the confines of my boxy vehicle I managed to have both. If only I had the mechanical aptitude to make something worthwhile of my project this could have been a pretty special rig.

As it turned out a couple of crude couches where fashioned from scrounged helicopter seat cushions and about all that was accomplished was the installation of some cheap paneling with seating to accommodate a patrol sized group of G.I.'s as we headed from one misadventure to another.

One of our first outings was a one day trip to Washington D.C. making use of a friends Uncle as our guide from one site to another. The eight of us managed to visit most of the major tourist draws. The Capital, Washington Monument, Lincoln Memorial, and even part of the Smithsonian.

There were a few excursions to the Smokey Mountains as my roommate was from the ever so small mountain community of Big Stone Gap VA. Pulling a trailer with our two off road dirt bikes we would spend weekends exploring trails and hills that he knew like the back of his hand.

The van also served as pit crew and tool box for a local Suzuki dealer's 16 year old son. Racing flat track with a skill we much older and more mature military guy's could never match, his parents felt we were sufficiently mature to keep him out of trouble as we followed the racing circuit in the region.

Within the year my military obligation came to an end. It was back to Minnesota just before Christmas 1972. With my trusty van loaded to the roof and my 250 Suzuki dirt bike on a trailer in tow, it was back to the great white north I went.

Within a matter of weeks the impracticality of driving an empty cargo van as my primary transportation became a reality. With no weight in the back a van in snow land is absolutely useless. The motorcycle was traded off for a snowmobile which made more sense considering the deep snow I was to be floundering in for the next 4 months.

For a while the snowmobile was carried in the van for weight, though this did nothing to address the fact that it was damn cold in that van when the temperatures dropped to -20 below. It wasn't long before a trip to the Ford dealership took place where I exchanged the van for a new Pinto. Yet another error in judgment, but that's another story.

Much of the next 36 years were spent being a reasonable adult resident of northern Minnesota. By that I mean I always owned (and still do) a 4x4 truck, worked a long and varied career much of which included exposure to extreme winter temperatures which you just accepted as part of life.

Then it happened. By an interesting bit of fate I was able to contact my old military roommate. I was attending a school sports sponsored rummage sale and spotted a book on a long table containing hundreds of assorted volumes.

This book was called "Big Stone Gap" by Adriana Trigiani. As I had many fond memories of both my roommate and his home town I immediately bought the book. After reading the book and searching the internet I found an email address to Ms. Trigiani and I quickly fired off a note thanking her for a good read and wondering if she happened to know of my past military friend as he and she where both from such a small town. She was nice enough to contact a friend of hers still living in Big Stone Gap and shortly I received an email from my long lost roommate.

What do you think was one of the first questions he asked me? Have you still got the van? This may seem a strange question it being almost 40 yrs later, but you need to know he currently drives a classic Chevy pickup of that vintage and it would seem quite normal for him to ask.

That planted the seed and now a couple years later I am in the process of finishing up my second and considerably more comfortable Stealth Van Dwelling. I just hope I get the opportunity to go back to Big Stone Gap and show him that though I don't have the original I'm still a van man at heart.