Container homes have been our architectural obsession for years and still are if we’re being honest. There's just something about the look, the sustainability, and the ease of building something so simple and square. But they are stationary and require land to be put on. We lived in San Diego, and land wasn’t exactly easy to come by. 

Through the Pandemic years, we began to value quality time and creativity, and we knew we were meant for more than just working all of our lives just to pay the bills.  San Diego is lovely; it comes with all of our best friends and favorite skateparks, but it’s also expensive, and we were not made of money.  

During a trip to Iceland in the Summer of 2021, we fell in love with the landscape, the people, and the slower way of living.  This thing called “van life” was alive and well, and the overlanding rigs were like nothing we’d ever seen! We met the owner of Skool Beans, a Skoolie turned coffee shop, and we began brainstorming about a food truck business selling grilled cheese sandwiches at the bottom of glaciers. Upon our return to the States, we went to a Van Expo, and suddenly, the possibility of actually living this thing called life was very real.  

We casually looked at a few vans in San Diego, but nothing felt right. Determined to start the next chapter of our life, we packed up our Passat, drove to Texas, where we have family, and thought a more affordable van or truck might present itself. 

After six weeks of rig shopping and finding nothing fitting, we pulled the trigger and sold the Passat, forcing us to make a decision quickly. One little Skoolie popped up on Craigslist, and we kept returning to it. It was genuinely Texan, with a full Texas Longhorns wrap and so much Orange!  

We laughed and thought it would be so fitting, but we didn’t know immediately if we were ”Skoolie” people. The vans we were looking at started feeling smaller and smaller, and based on square footage and the chance to stand out, we decided to drive two hours to at least look at it. We fell in love. The owner, “Jimboski”, loved his tailgating bus so much and hated to part with it, but we promised to give her an amazing second life.  This was our bus now, our future home.

The bus we bought.

We couldn’t wait to show her off and get to work.  The seats came out that very afternoon so we could start our conversion.  

YouTube videos became our morning routine; we had so much to learn.  We were confident and capable, and we’d helped friends with home improvement projects before, but nothing like this.  Rivets and Rust were the new “4-letter” words in our life. Miles and miles of hoses, that magic orange wire that kills the engine, endless trips to the mechanic and every home improvement store in town. 

Wires, wires, and more wires.

It was almost too much to handle in the hot Texas sun during summer when the temperature stayed above 100 degrees for weeks on end.  It took an entire month just to gut the bus and prep it for the build, and we wondered when we might ever actually be able to live in it.

We spent $8,000 on the bus and $6,000 at the mechanic’s shop within the first couple months.  If we could do it again, we would have never gone to the mechanic.  She ran just fine before and less fine after.  If we had been a little more mechanically inclined, we would have saved that $6,000 and put it into the build or spent it on proper tools.  We’ve become so much more confident over the years.  We do a lot of work ourselves now and don’t panic when a check engine light comes on.  We recognize the value of good tools and regret not buying them right away.

By August, three months into the build, we were ready for a change of scenery. We traveled from Texas to Tennessee to visit more family and test the bus out on its maiden voyage.

At this point in the build, the electrical system was working, the walls and flooring were completed, a seat with a seatbelt was installed, and our bedframe was built. We had our refrigerator, but it was just floating around the bus, as we had no kitchen yet. This was a glamping set-up at best.

We camped at campgrounds on our way because we still needed water and a bathroom. We crossed state lines and ceremoniously peeled off the last Longhorn Sticker. She was no longer a tailgating party bus, and she was our adventure bus, our tiny home on wheels.

The weather in Tennessee proved to be just as bad, if not worse, than in Texas. The spontaneous rainstorms and unrelenting humidity were not bus build friendly. We had amazing family time and made some great new friends, but we couldn’t quite finish the build there, so we went back to Texas.  We each had trips we had to fly for, so we parked the bus and took a much-needed break from working on the bus.  A few weeks later, we were back with the bus and ready to cross the finish line.

We painted the interior and exterior, installed the shower and gray water tank, made our one-of-a-kind photo table for our dinette, and made custom resin countertops from wood we brought back from our family’s farm in Tennessee. We decided to name her “Billie” after Salina’s road trip-loving great-grandmother. It felt fitting, and it sounded cute.  

Our Photo Table.

The week of Thanksgiving, just as the weather shifted and turned cold quickly, we were ready to hit the road.  Our adventures with Billie were about to begin finally.  Six months after we bought that orange tailgating bus, our beautiful teal home on wheels was ready to roll.  We visited friends all around Texas and dipped our toes in the sand for our first-ever beach camping experience in Corpus Christi.  

We took Billie on her first ferry ride in Port Aransas. It was short, but we saw dolphins and continued to wow ourselves with these bus life milestones.  Unfortunately, bus life rites of passage go both ways and while in Port Aransas, we realized we had a leak in our freshwater tank. Mold was starting to grow in the garage, but lucky for us, we were headed to a friend’s house in Houston, where we could make repairs. 

After a week and a lot of testing, the water tank was ready to go back in, but not before word of an impending “freeze” that would hit the week of Christmas. Once again, we leaned on family for a warm place to sleep and one last normal family holiday, but as soon as the bus mattress thawed out, we were out of there.

We started heading West just before the New Year and stumbled upon a little gathering called SkooliePalooza. We were nervous about making friends on the road. Would we fit in? How did our build compare to others? We circled the expanse of rigs twice before settling in a spot. We set out our chairs and started to make lunch.  

Within minutes, two couples approached us to say hi and introduce themselves. Kate recognized us from Instagram, and we felt validated for immediately putting our Instagram handle on our bus.  They invited us to park with them, and we quickly jumped on the chance to meet other bus friends! We were invited onto Mike and Mandy’s rooftop deck at sunset, and more of their friends pulled in to create a circle.  These were now our people; they were warm and welcoming and made us feel like we were really at home in this new community.

We took Billie to San Diego to introduce her to our friends and family. We had an open house on Mission Beach and invited everyone to stop by.  It was fun sharing our new life with everyone from our “regular” life, but being in San Diego felt different. It wasn’t a friendly place for car camping / RV living, and the best we could do was camp out in our friend’s driveway while we were there.  It’s a great driveway, but we were nomads now. We wanted the best campsites in the coolest new places whenever possible.  

We learned that most people were incredibly happy and excited for us and a little envious that we had the bravery to jump into this new lifestyle, but a handful of people just didn’t get it.  They didn’t think this was smart, and they could no longer relate to us. It was a tough transition, and we knew we needed to get back out there, discover new places, and make new friends.

A few months later, we caught up with our Skoolie crew again in Baja, CA.  During our six-week excursion, we visited many places we had been before by car or plane, but seeing them now with our home attached to us opened so many more possibilities.  We camped on stunning beaches, we saw a seahorse in Bahia Concepcion, we took remote dirt roads, we went to places less frequented by tourists, and we managed to get as stuck as humanly possible in the sand at Punta Conejo.  It was a quick trip down the peninsula, but we promised we’d be back and spend much more time.  

Billie at La Poma, Baja Mexico.

The Summer months had us chasing good weather and skateparks up the West Coast.  We visited new states, cities, towns, forests and beaches. We met up with old friends and friends we had previously only known through social media, and we continued to grow our little nomad family.  We got invited to the Holy Toledo gathering and quickly became a part of putting on events with The Journal of Lost Time. We went to Canada – our third country in the bus; we couldn’t get enough of Astoria, Bellingham, and Vancouver, B.C. It was a Summer to remember.

Amidst the beauty and adventure, though, we were tired and battled with bouts of depression.  Money was tight, which is always stressful.  We leaned on our new friends and our nomad community and realized it was normal.  Decision fatigue is real. Every day of this life, you have to search for the next place to sleep safely. You’re constantly mapping and checking your water and power levels while trying to live your best life and enjoy these stunning views.  

We learned that getting a hotel or an Airbnb for a night is okay. Even though that seems silly, it can completely readjust your outlook. It’s okay to ask for help, it’s okay that it’s not all glamorous, and it’s okay to be honest about not loving every minute on the road. Zero privacy and zero alone time are adjustments we jump into relatively quickly. Still, we were undoing a lifetime of learned behaviors, living in 90 square feet, and it’s okay to struggle with that.

Billie is temperamental; she runs a little hot and leaks a little.  Engine repairs are always on our minds.  In year one, we struggled with our power system, took it all apart, and put it back together more times than we could count.  The kindness of strangers in the Nomad community shines bright when one of your own is in need.  Over many months and much troubleshooting, we realized we had a bad ground wire, a faulty charge controller, and not enough solar to run our fully electric system.  We are always learning and improving; each lesson builds our confidence in doing hard things.

We worked our second event with The Journal of Lost Time and made many new connections.  We met sponsors, learned about products, and drove away with enough power to run our new Starlink, which we finally agreed to purchase when Salina got a full-time remote job.  We had the knowledge, tools, and money to keep this adventure going for another year, and we couldn’t wait to cross back into Mexico.  

We spent Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year, and Easter on the beaches of the Baja California peninsula. It was perfect – except for one thing: that pesky full-time job.  Was it too much to ask for some work/life balance?  We got into this thing called bus life to break away from the norm, and here we were stuck inside, at a desk for 45+ hours a week, virtually all the hours the sun was up.  Sure, we were on a beach, but we weren’t exactly enjoying it.

As long as you don’t have an extremely demanding job and you like tacos, Baja, CA, is THE place for nomads. It’s simple, sunny, and peaceful. Oceanfront property is accessible to all of us. Adventure awaits around every corner, and the tacos… did we mention the tacos? Birria pizza, freshly caught fish, ice-cold cervezas, and kilo upon kilo of warm homemade tortillas. The culture and biodiversity are abundant; it’s just beautiful.

Year two on the road had us in search of a better balance. We traded full-time jobs for part-time jobs and summer gigs; we spent six weeks in a friend’s driveway in McCall, Idaho, rented a car for a week, and airport-hopped so Marcelo could skate in some shows. We finally finished painting the front of the bus, a long overdue project. We drove back to Texas, the birthplace of our bus, for some family time, a registration renewal, and a bit of a remodel.

The thing about home ownership is that the project list is never-ending.  At the end of year two, our to-do project list had finally reached a tipping point. These things just had to get done if we were going to stay on the road. We mounted our Maxtrax, traction boards on the bus, upholstered the cockpit area, added a built-in spice rack, finally built a cabinet to cover our electrical system, fixed our broken fridge and kitchen drawer slides, and added a larger drain hole in the gray water tank. Trying to empty 30 gallons of gray water through a regular hose spout takes a long time.

We love our home on wheels, and we’re proud of the work we put into it. It’s beautiful and spacious and has everything we need, yet not a day goes by that we don’t talk about the things we wish we had done differently or the things we’d change in our next build. Building out a bus is hard work, but somehow, it's addicting. The struggle is real, but the reward is equally high.  

We’re currently in our third winter in Baja, CA.  It’s just as beautiful as our first visit, and the kindness of the locals is just as apparent. We’re not sure what the rest of year three holds for us, but one thing is for sure – this lifestyle has brought beauty and friendships we could have never imagined. It’s been hard, so very hard, a huge learning curve and a giant leap out of our comfort zones, but our gratitude for this Bus Named Billie and everything that comes along is unmatched. 

General

• Year: 2005
• Manufacturer: Chevy
• Model: Express 3500 MidBus
• Vehicle Weight: 11,000 lbs. fully loaded with water and gas
• Fuel Tank Capacity: 30-ish gallons
• Miles Per Gallon: 10-12
• Overall Length: 22 ft.
• Overall Width:  8 ft.
• Overall Height:  10 ft.
• Raised Roof – How Much:  None
• Solar Power:     770 watts. Two 100-watt Renogy panels and two 185-watt Sunflare Xplor flexible, walkable panels

House Batteries: 450 Ah

• What Type & How Many:  Three lithium 150 Ah each
• Shore Power: 30A
• Inverter: Renogy 3000W pure sine wave

External Equipment

• Fresh Water Tank Capacity: 46 gallons
• Black Water Tank Capacity: None
• Grey Water Tank Capacity: 32 gallons
• Water Heater Type:  Bosch 4-gallon electric
• Plumbing Materials Used: PEX tubing
• Propane: None

Internal Equipment

• Stove:  Induction 2-burner stove from Empava
• Oven:  None
• Microwave: None
• Convection Oven: None
• Microwave/Convection Combo: None
• Refrigerator: IceCo 70L dual zone chest style
• Air Conditioning: None
• Heating: None
• Ceiling Fans: Two Maxxair fans
• Generator:  None
• TV: None
• VCR: None
• DVR: None
• BLU-RAY: None
• Internet: Starlink
• Bed(s) - How Many and What Size: One Queen size

Interior

• Ceiling Material: Cedar tongue and groove
• Flooring Material: Laminate wood
• Type of Insulation: Havelock Wool
• Countertop Material: Wood and resin
• Window Coverings: Paper blinds
• Lighting Type:  LED

Miscellaneous

• How long have you owned your bus? Since May 2022
• Did you do the conversion yourself? Yes
• How long did it take?  Five months of working almost all day every day
• How much did you spend on your bus and your conversion to complete it? Bus = $8k, maintenance = $6k up front, plus a lot more since then, conversion $20k
• Notable Features: Dinette with photo table, resin countertops
• What would you do differently next time, or do you have any afterthoughts? We are always improving and dreaming about small things we could do differently or better. The priority next time would be to add a rooftop deck, it was in the original plan but got scrapped due to time and money
• How many buses did you look at before buying this one? We looked at a couple of vans, but this was the only bus