I was scared to do van life solo, but a lot of positive interactions while on the road has given me faith in humanity.
Sydnee Chapman
The first excursion in my newly purchased camper van — a one-night trip to a national forest a few hours from my home — was nothing short of a debacle. The trip was meant to be a test run on solo van living before I fully took the plunge, and it certainly did test me. My dispersed campsite was full of deceivingly deep mud, and my van got stuck in it. After unsuccessfully trying to get out, I asked the next site over for help. They pushed and shoved without success and offered to drive me around to find someone with a truck who could tow me out. Eventually, a group of retirees also offered to help, and I was soon in the passenger seat of a little red truck. We were about 15 yards from my van when the truck slid to a halt in the mud. With the sun starting to fade between the pine trees, it was looking like we'd both be stuck for the night."Don't worry," he assured me as he headed back to his campsite. "My buddy has a bigger truck and is coming up tomorrow. He'll tow both of us out."
Around 1 a.m., I was woken up by a fist pounding on my door and a gruff voice yelling, "Sheriff's office!"After some scolding for getting myself into the situation, the officer towed my van out and explained that someone had called 911 for a wellness check after they saw the red truck drive me back to my campsite and never return.As I drove my newly liberated van back down the road, I passed the group who had first helped me: A bunch of strangers who had gone out of their way — including driving to get cell service to call 911 — to make sure I was safe.I was embarrassed by just how many people I'd dragged into this fiasco, but also overwhelmed with gratitude. It was an important first lesson of van life: There are often people looking out for you.Over the years, I've experienced even more kindness while traveling in my van
