In this article I share the story behind our tiny home on wheels, from the first time it was ever thought about to where it is now, 4 years down the road.
By Sawyer Lane
Have you ever looked at a beautiful van build and the van lifestyle on social media and thought, “how could I even achieve that one day?”. Most current or past nomads felt the exact same way at one point in time. In this article I, Sawyer, share the story behind our tiny home on wheels, from the first time it was ever thought about to where it is now, 4 years down the road.
I was washing windows with my friend and then-roommate Ted and we were chatting across ladders about our rent. We were each paying $725 for our little bedrooms in a duplex that we shared with a third roommate. $2175 for a three bedroom was a steal in Summit county, CO at the time but, even still, the majority of a paycheck going to rent is discouraging. What could we do? Live in the national forest and be homeless! Homeless in a cargo trailer. Ted and I were looking to tow a 5×10 trailer with my four-banger Forester that would only fit two small bunks and a bit of room to store things, and we were planning on making the kitchen completely outside. In hindsight, we would have been miserable, but the idea seemed so glorious to us at the time. So free, both financially and aspirationally, and so new.
A few years later, my then-girlfriend Bekah called me and asked how serious I was about the whole cargo trailer thing. I told her not to mess around with that one because I’m SO serious. Seriously excited. A week later, we were mapping out the 7×16 space in her apartment kitchen and imagining where the counter and bed and wood stove would be, saying “Are we really doing this?”
We wanted to make our new tiny home on wheels totally our own, and I REALLY didn’t want to deal with a bunch of cheap plastic RV parts that, even brand new, fail and need replacement all the time. Pieces of trim and other bits begin to fall off or peel back, pumps fail, slide-outs get stuck, the list goes on and on. Plus, we could only afford a brand new cargo trailer or an RV from the 80’s or 90’s. I sold the Forester, bought Darryl the F-150 (RIP), and we drove to Kansas to buy the silver, V-nose 7×16 we had been eyeing online for $5000. Which leads to the next point of having a cheaper buy-in!
Compared to a van, which are in high demand and have engines, or an appealing RV, the cargo trailer is a pretty cheap option for getting onto the road. This does suppose that you already have a vehicle that can tow one, but I sold my Forester for $6000, bought my truck for $8300, and my half of the cargo trailer was $2500. Not bad, huh? It also helped that I have been with Wells Fargo since I was 2, apparently, and they gave me an unsecured loan for the extra cash I needed, but it really wasn’t too bad to pay off.
Although we would much rather be on public land with trees and bird sounds around, sometimes traveling necessitates staying in a grocery store parking lot and not sticking out like a sore thumb helps with that tremendously. Being a window washer, there is a ladder on the side of the trailer and a ladder in the back of the truck, so we blend in pretty well with the other work trailers. We put up covers on the windows so our lights are covered and we sleep like kittens. Stealth camping is super convenient and opens up a whole new world of being able to stop at almost any town that has a grocery store.
View our article of Pros and Cons of a Trailer vs a Van if you are still weighing the options between motor-in vs motor-out.
Building materials can be cheaper than you think if you get crafty about acquiring them. Construction dumpsters are AMAZING. We found four whole boxes of flooring, in the cellophane, totally new and totally free. I was washing windows at a house that was getting their floors replaced after only six years, so I asked the flooring guys if they could set aside the boards that were under rugs and what not, to which they replied “For sure! They’re headed for the dumpster anyway!” Since we only needed to cover 122 square feet of space, often less, the scraps from a build on a whole house were usually more than enough for what we needed. Once you’re looking for free stuff, you’ll start to notice it everywhere.
The freedom of an empty box to fill with whatever we can dream up was so exciting to us. The layout, the look, the materials, what appliances we wanted, even how many windows and where to put them. Here is our list of necessities:
Now, at the time I was by no means an expert builder, nor am I now. But, we needed a sink, so I had to think up a sink and see how it worked. Sometimes I felt like the Grinch with all of the crazy things I put together and took back apart. I did the same with drawers, propane hoses, the bedframe, the counter, all of it. Every new task was a learning experience, and I’m proud to have had people say “You did all of this with a few battery powered saws and a square? Not even a table saw? Man…”
Of course, there are plenty of things that I look at and think “How the hell did I think that was going to work?” or “I should have added just an inch and a half to this thing and it would be wide enough.” Like Edison, you will do a lot of things that don’t necessarily work, and other times you’ll surprise yourself with your ingenuity or just get plain lucky. I didn’t consider that my cabinet door and my drawers opened into each other, but I happened to make them so that they squeaked past each other almost perfectly, just a half inch in between. Look at me go! One absolute is that there is no other trailer like the one we made. It is exclusively and expressively ours.
The first night I slept in the trailer, the night after I no longer had a lease, I had put in insulation, a wood stove, a bedframe and mattress, and a bunch of clothes and tools on the ground. I cooked, did dishes, and heated the house with the little $112 stove and used magnetic work lights, which were super depressing, to hang out at night. Despite the freezing May we had that year and my living in a box, I was happy as a clam, so thrilled about the future and the constant projects at hand.
As I write this, I spent the last week putting up some of the last bits of trim, four years into living in the trailer. Some things you just never get around to, mostly because you get used to your house being your house. It’s like getting new glasses; you just had no idea your vision sucked so much until you realize that you’re supposed to be able to see each leaf on the tree from twenty feet away. We see rigs on the road ranging from absolutely gorgeous to “Well, I guess if you like it, but I couldn’t do it.”
About a year into our travels, we covered up the horrible robin’s egg blue insulation on the ceiling, built drawers for the ugly pile under the counter, and painted the plywood walls. Looking around after that, it felt like we may as well have been living in a cardboard box for a whole year. However, new additions were a thrill every time, so I almost prefer the slow build in the long run. Projects take longer when you have to rearrange your house to get them done, and the appeal of going for a hike in your free time sometimes wins you over, but each finished item is something you enjoy every day from then on out.
Just sitting on my couch and looking around, remembering the day I put that bracket up, the goldfish I was eating when I put that drawer slide in, and all of the other accomplishments of which I can remind myself has given me the most pride in myself to date. I encourage you to release your inhibitions, sell your shit, and get after it.
When others who live in a van come in to check out our trailer, they stretch their arms out and gawk at their fingers not touching both walls. Most people say “Oh my gosh, it’s so cute! It’s like a little house!” and we smile every time. A guy in rural New York even wanted a video tour for his YouTube channel, and we almost never see fellow box-dwellers. Even though it was all we could afford, I wouldn’t get on the road any other way. Both Bekah and I have grown precipitously along with the trailer and our vehicle’s mileage, and the last four years have been the greatest of my life.
Thank you for reading and let me know if you have other questions or comments!
Hi! I’m Bekah, but you can call me Beks, all my friends do! I travel full-time in a tiny home on wheels that my partner, Sawyer, and I built from a cargo trailer shell in 2019. We started out in beautiful Colorado and have been all over the United States over the years. This space is designed to inspire and guide the nature obsessed nomad, weekend warrior, and future roadlifer. I’m so excited you’re here!
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One Comment on Unlocking Freedom: The Story Behind Our Tiny Home on Wheels
Absolutely love the article. Really cool learning about how you guys got started with it all. Ended up buying an RV for NWATS. Call it the field office trailer.