The Gypsy Wagon is Getting a Makeover!

or Livin' in a Van Down by the River

Jan 14, 2026

Me and Clementine when the Gypsy Wagon was just a metal shell

Hello, Friends—

After looking at camper vans for years, I finally purchased the Gypsy Wagon in 2019. She’s a black beauty—a Ford Transit T250, medium roof, medium length, with a tow hitch and two(!) sliding doors. An empty cargo van with nothing but two front seats and lots of black metal. Bought sight unseen (trust me, I’d researched ad nauseam), I was quite surprised when I arrived to pick her up and saw that the driver-side wall—where a kitchen would typically be built—was not a wall at all, but instead, a second slider. It took me a moment to recalibrate, but I quickly concluded that while this would present a design challenge, it would also allow for open-air living and a kitchen accessible from both inside and out. Turns out I love it.

Over time, I’ve added additional windows—two bunk sliders and a window in the second sliding door—and a MaxxAir fan (still to be wired in). A friend helped me build and install a plywood bed platform, and I added a super-comfy memory foam mattress. (Have I mentioned I love sleeping in my van so much that I occasionally stealth camp in my own driveway?) I dug out an upholstered coffee-table thingy from storage and repurposed it as a bench. I put together plug-and-play everything—a Goal Zero battery and portable solar backpack to power a portable refrigerator and my electronics. An emergency pee bucket. My conventional camping gear, including a table, stove, and cookware. I added a down comforter, colorful rugs, curtains made from painting canvas I had in the garage. And, twinkly lights. Don’t forget the twinkly lights (and the occasional flowers). (From the outset, what I wanted most was a comfy bed and twinkly lights. Literally, that was my mantra.)

I’ve been rawdogging around in this glorified car-camping situation ever since. Clementine and I (and then just I) have cruised all over the West—the Mountain States, the Desert Southwest, California—in the Gypsy Wagon. I’ve taken her to a painting workshop in Santa Fe, a Vision Fast in California, a writing workshop at Esalen, skiing in Mammoth, Burning Man, hot-springing everywhere possible, touring with my niece in Southern Utah, to river trip put-ins. I lived in her for four months in my driveway when my house was being remodeled.

And, while she’s great a lot of the time, the lack of climate control has tested my limits.(Think: a black metal shell in scorching August heat in the Nevada desert during Burning Man; sleeping beneath piles of down (the good part) but awakening to frozen water and fingers too cold to make coffee (the bad part).) I’ve long wanted to build her out more completely but the pandemic brought a wave of escapees to van life (and to my mountain town) and hiring anyone to do anything was suddenly out of reach. People and things were either unavailable or too damn expensive. And, while I’ve picked away at small improvements to the van, I haven’t carved out the time, attention, and money that would be required to fully build out the van on my own. (I won’t bore you with the logistics and life balance questions, but if you’re curious, ask away.)

Thankfully, the #vanlife craze seems to have boomed-and-busted, prices have come down some, and van builders are looking for work. And, I’ve finally acknowledged that as cool as it might be to do the build myself, spending my time this way doesn’t make sense. And, so it is. I’m now working with a talented craftsman in Joshua Tree to design and build out the Gypsy Wagon! I’ll be delivering her to him later this month (12 hours of driving and a plane flight back) and anticipate she’ll be done by April—just in time to live in the desert a while.

I’ve worked hard to get my life balanced and finances in order (without selling out to the man) to make this happen. The thought of roaming around with much more ease for much longer periods of time, exploring new places, visiting friends and family, wild painting, hiking, skiing, soaking and more, makes me very happy. It’s a further investment in freedom, another step into untamed territory. As my East Coast friends have long joked, expect to see me living in a van down by the river.

xo Wendy

Ask Me Anything

I know I’m not alone in obsessing over the details of #vanlife—the builds, the adventures, the how-tos, the emotions, the joys and challenges, the logistics—and am happy to go down the rabbit hole on any of these topics. Ask me anything!