Where in the World is Julia Beverly?

My former colleague Eric Perrin wrote that bio above for me some years back and I loved it! He really hyped me up. Now I can add "oh, she also built a camper van" to the résumé .

When the coronavirus pandemic brought international travel to a halt in 2020, I had a lot of unexpected free time and dove headfirst into a new project. This is the story of how I built Carmen Van Diego!

The coronavirus pandemic forced a lot of people to make changes in their lives - a reset of sorts, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. The world was thrown into a time of upheaval and a lot of us were forced to reevaluate our lifestyles and the things that mattered to us the most.

I don't mind a little change. Someone recently suggested that my middle name should be "Pivot." Transitioning into the next phase of life is something that comes naturally to me; I just go with the flow and adjust accordingly. For the first year or so of the pandemic, my work had slowed down significantly and I didn't know what to do with myself and all this free time. So I built a camper van!

I'd never built anything before, so I was a total rookie. I was terrified of my jig saw the first time I picked it up. So you're probably wondering why I would jump into a big project like this?

I've always been pretty outdoorsy and adventurous, but it wasn't until the summer of 2016 that I kicked into high gear. In March of that year, I was at dinner with some friends in Atlanta.

One of them asked me, "Did you hear about Vega?"

I knew Vega from The Supertrainer's bootcamp workouts. "No, what about her?"

"She's riding her bike to Miami."

Years earlier when I saw the movie Forrest Gump I knew I wanted to do a crazy adventure someday, like spontaneously running across the country, as the character did in the movie. I had researched it once and learned that it would take six months - too much of a commitment for me at the time. But the idea was still lingering in my subconscious, I guess.

I bought a bicycle, threw some clothes in a backpack, got my hair braided for low maintenance upkeep, and met Vega and her crew the next day in Macon where they'd stopped for the night. We got a crash course in bicycle touring. It was rough. We didn't have a plan or a route. We didn't have the right gear and had no idea what we were doing. We endured torrential downpours, rough roads and rude drivers. But we also had some great times and took breaks for some jet skiing and water park adventures. Most importantly, we made it! On Day 18 we reached the finish line, so to speak, in Miami's South Beach!

I loved bike touring too, but wanted to try some new routes. I learned a lot more about cycle gear and training. I started entertaining the idea of cycling cross-country and made a 'joke' that I would cycle from Seattle (the furthest NW point in the US) to Key West (the furthest SE point in the US). Over the next year I did just that, although it wasn't all in one consecutive trip.

First I got a group of friends together - including Vega's friend Jess, who did the Miami ride with us - and attempted to get a sporting goods company to sponsor our cross-country ride and film it for a docuseries or TV show. We filmed a sizzle reel:

There were a couple casualties from this video shoot. I managed to fly my early-model DJI drone into a tree on one of the overhead shots and was forced to upgrade to one with an anti-collision sensor. The cameraman broke my sunroof hanging out of it filming the on-road cycling shots, prior to being flagged down by a policeman and nearly ticketed. And in the end, the sporting goods company did not cut the check and the group ride never happened. So I guess you could say it was a failure. But it forced me to research other options.

That's how I found the Bike The US For MS (BTUSFMS) website. Compared with all the other charity ride options, it was the most affordable. (The accommodations are mostly camping, whereas other more expensive options stay in hotels.) Cyclists pay a fee for the road support/rest stops/accommodations/having someone check up on you, and the proceeds benefit multiple sclerosis research. But I was hesitant. Of course we should desire to do things that are for a good cause, but the charity aspect and promo materials gave the impression that we would be required to ride in unison in matching gear asking strangers for charity donations. (Not my style.) So I decided to test it out with a 2-week trip from San Francisco down to San Diego (1/2 of the Pacific Coast Highway).

Fortunately it was not like that at all. Although there are service projects en route, you can ride solo or ride with the group, whatever you choose, and wear whatever you want. BTUSFMS is a great organization; I had so much fun and made a lot of cool cyclist friends.

If you're interested in getting into bike touring, I HIGHLY recommend the Pacific Coast Highway route. (Despite its name, you are riding along the beautiful California coastline, not the actual freeway!) It takes about a month total, but it's easy to do a shorter portion. The route is not exclusive to BTUSFMS, it's actually an Adventure Cycling route. Adventure Cycling's routes are designed to avoid major roads whenever possible and take you on the bike friendliest-roads. (Any of these routes can of course be done solo, rather than paying to go with an organization or charity, but that means all the extra weight and hassle of carrying your gear on panniers - yikes! - and arranging your own accommodations.)

BTUSFMS had a cross-country group scheduled to leave from San Diego the day after our arrival from the north. (There are three official Adventure Cycling routes across the US, and the Southern Tier is the shortest: San Diego to St. Augustine.) I had a fairly flexible summer work schedule and was entertaining the idea of continuing cross-country. I was still debating it in my mind on one of the final days when I rode past a school which had the Henry David Thoreau quote painted on the side of the building: "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined."

When you're cycling 8+ hours a day, you have plenty of time to think, and I thought about that quote all day. My options were to continue cycling cross-country for two more months or go home to my regular everyday life. I was here already, I had all my gear, and I was in shape - if I was ever going to do it, now was the time. When I asked myself which option would be heading "in the direction of my dreams," it was a no-brainer. I was going for it!

On that first trip I didn't even have cycling shoes! I wore Vans! I learned how to "clip-in" during the first two weeks of the cross-country ride (that's cyclist-speak for using cleats to attach yourself to the pedals, which gives you double the power and speed) by slowly breaking in, starting with my less-dominant left foot. (You have to train your brain to un-clip every time you brake, because as every cyclist has learned the hard way: if you forget to un-clip, you fall over :) By the time we reached St. Augustine, Florida on Day 65, I was a pro!

Here's the video I made showing all the cool stuff I saw on that trip. It was just for fun so I incorporated a lot of audio that would never be cleared for commercial release. I originally was going to overlay it with just Forrest Gump audio, but I ended up adding a bunch of other classic movies (The Matrix, Titanic, Ferris Bueller) and some of my favorite tunes from the road (Avicii, Drake, Tupac).

I was inspired after that trip and started researching adventures all over the world. While hiking the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu in Peru, I met an experienced adventurous couple who had traveled all over the world. Over dinner in the amazing city of Cusco, they told me about some of their favorite trips, like the Camino de Santiago trail in Spain. The Camino is typically a hiking trail, but I asked if it could be biked. "Sure," they said, "It's nice, gently rolling hills."

HA! I would soon come to find that it is not.

My friend King and I flew to Paris, visited the Louvre, took the train to the France/Spain border and rented mountain bikes with panniers to cycle the Camino de Santiago. It was an extremely ambitious 11 day itinerary over steep terrain, brutal compared to the flat ATL>MIA ride, and we were totally unprepared. But we finished. Barely.

I was all over the place in 2017 and 2018. Wildland Trekking is a good option for introductory hiking because you can go with a guided group and not have to worry about cooking dinner in the wilderness or transporting all your gear. I did their Havasu Falls (incredible), Grand Canyon (a bit too crowded for my taste), Yellowstone (didn't see any other humans for days), and Great Smoky Mountains (not my favorite - it rained the whole time) trips. There was a botched photography trip to frigid Norway which had to be abandoned due to terrible weather. I did a few more trips with BTUSFMS, first from the top of Scotland to the bottom of England with their UK-affiliate Bike The UK For MS (Canada is coming soon) and then the Western half of their Northern Tier cross-country ride, Bismarck ND to Seattle WA. (I find the Western half of the US incredible and scenic on a bike - the Eastern half not so much!) Hands down the highlights of the NoTier ride are Glacier National Park and Diablo Lake in the North Cascades - I intend to revisit both soon!

I climbed the Gros Piton in St. Lucia and walked up Dunn's River Falls in Jamaica. Biked from Miami to Key West solo, and did Seattle to San Francisco with BTUSFMS, to complete my full-country route. Completed two sprint triathlons. Slept in an RV full of strangers at Burning Man (this is a "must-do once in a lifetime for the experience" type thing). Visited the classic screensaver image of Reflection Canyon in person. Took a helicopter tour of the Montserrat volcano and abandoned town of Plymouth. Spent New Year's Eve on a private island in Belize. Biked across Iowa with RAGBRAI (so much fun! so much food!). Rode in a classic car in Havana.

I drove across the US by car a couple times, stopping at cool places all along the way. I took a ton of pictures at the colorful Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta. Roamed around Moab, the Canyonlands, and Canyon de Chelly (a few of my favorite places ever!). Mountain biked the White Rim. Did some incredible stargazing at Badwater Basin in Death Valley, the lowest point in the US. Hiked to the US/Mexican border at Big Bend. Along these journeys, I started seeing built-out camper vans... interesting! It would be so much more convenient than having to find a hotel every night, I thought.

I realize that many people view traveling the world like this as inaccessible and unaffordable. I'm extremely blessed to be in a position where I can work remotely on my own schedule. It helps to be single and childless with disposable income, but you don't have to be rich to see the world. While it's true that a couple things aligned for me financially during this timeframe that allowed me to travel more extensively, it's also true that I've had some amazing adventures while broke. It's all about priorities - if traveling is important to you, you'll make it work, even if it means skimping on some other expenses at home. (I can't give away all my tricks, but here are some tips for traveling on a budget!) It does help to have a flexible schedule and be open to a variety of destinations. Many places - Peru, South Africa, Thailand, Argentina, for example - are incredibly affordable for US travelers, because the dollar stretches a long way.

Regardless, I understand that I'm incredibly blessed and everyone doesn't have the freedom or finances to roam as much as I have. When I share content from my adventures I always try to do it from a place of humility, hoping that it will allow others to experience it vicariously or be inspired to explore as far as they can go.

In late 2018 I fell through an attic. It's a long story, but yeah, that was not fun. (I wrote about it in the Modern Adventurers book.) I couldn't walk for two months and couldn't jog or do anything strenuous during six months of physical therapy on my torn-up ankle. During my time stationary I spent hours upon hours researching great travel destinations. My first trip back on my feet was hiking the Tour du Mont Blanc solo - 10 days of incredible scenery through Switzerland, France, and Italy - one of my favorite adventures ever!

We all remember what happened in March 2020, don't we?

On the day my flight left the US for Argentina I remember reading about coronavirus cases that had been detected in Seattle. I had heard about the pandemic unfolding in China (I'd even purchased an N99 mask in January 2020, so I was ahead of my time) but at the time it did not seem cause for immediate concern. I didn't imagine that things would unfold as quickly as they did. A few weeks later I was at the Grey Glacier at Torres del Paine National Park in Chile (widely regarded as a backpacker's dream destination, and for good reason) when things started to get crazy back home. Compounding the drama was the fact that cell service and internet access are practically nonexistent there. Myself and all the other trekkers were picking up a brief signal here or there and learning about rapidly developing situations such as border closures, flight cancellations, and travel restrictions. When it was announced that the Chilean border was closing and the park itself was closing, there was quite a rush for the exit.

Here's a video I made about that adventure:

So, I was forced to cut my dream vacation short and returned to my home in Atlanta, to a world that was much different than the one I'd left. At first the "lockdown" was sort of exciting, in a novel sort of way. I took pictures of the empty airport and the empty Freedom Street Bridge (where they filmed this famous shot from The Walking Dead). My work was shut down. I didn't know what to do with all my free time. I binge watched Tiger King, of course. Now what? I put together puzzles. I was bored enough to attempt cross-stitching. I signed up for online college courses to finish my long-ago forgotten college degree. (Why not?)

Eventually I would spend weeks, maybe months, diving into DIY Van Build websites and watching #vanlife YouTube videos. And the thought started to form in my mind: I could buy a van and build it out and would be able to travel indefinitely without being worried about travel restrictions, or exposure to coronavirus at hotels or restaurants.

It was a crazy idea. Or was it?

Okay. Now that you've endured my whole life story, let's talk about the van!

Three of the most popular camper vans to build out are the Mercedes Sprinter, Ram Promaster, and Ford Transit. (And the ugly Nissan NV, which I never considered out of sheer revulsion.) The Sprinter is out of my budget so it was down to either a Promaster or Transit. I read this breakdown on the Far Out Ride site early in the process which gives a good breakdown of the options. Their website provides a lot of great build info.

There was a bright yellow Transit for sale that caught my attention online, and the dealership was only an hour away. I called and visited numerous times attempting to purchase it and the salesperson seemed completely incompetent. I was practically begging to give them my money and there was continual delays with minimal communication. So I kept scrolling online auto-sales sites and saw a 2019 Promaster - same price, less miles, still under warranty, and same bright school-bus yellow - so I viewed it as a sign.

I flew to New Jersey to pick it up (masked up with an N95, of course) and drove 14 hours straight home in the first of many long nights in the van. I was terrified my first time getting behind the wheel, because it felt enormous, like driving a boat. Now that I'm used to it I consider it pretty comfortable for long drives. No danger of getting a speeding ticket in this thing, though. People have asked me about the gas mileage, which I've guesstimated at close to 20mpg on the freeway.

The Promaster comes in a few different size options. Mine is the 159" wheelbase, high roof version, which I believe is the largest available. With everything installed it clocks in at 19'8" long, so it fits in a regular parking space, and 9'2" high, just barely squeezing through fast food drive-thrus. It's no good for most parking garages, so I try to avoid major cities, which is fine with me. Its purpose is off-grid roaming, mostly.

I asked my Instagram followers to help me name my new van. My favorite suggestion was Yella Beezy (that's a rapper from Dallas, lol, if you aren't familiar). But I wasn't quite settled on it and one day I was re-watching my cross-country cycling journey video, with the soundbite from the cartoon Where In The World Is Carmen San Diego?, and I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it sooner. CARMEN VAN DIEGO! I'm proud to say that I thought of this myself, but, it appears I'm not the only one who has had this idea. There are other Carmen Van Diegos out there too, but it's okay, we can coexist.

Carmen was just a baby, only about a year old, when I got her. I don't know what her birth mother had put her through, but she had a couple minor dents and a shoddy paint job that was scratched and scraped. The good folks at Circle Truck touched her up.

During the first few months, she was having weird electrical troubles whenever it rained, and I was worried that she was a lemon. Ed Voyles Chrysler Jeep had my van for weeks and weeks at a time and still could not figure out what was going on. I finally tried the Paulding Chrysler Dodge dealership instead and they immediately diagnosed the problem: Her previous owner had removed and failed to replace the fuse box cover, so the electrical components were getting wet. Since replacing that I haven't had any issues. (Knock on wood.) I left a bad review for Ed Voyles dealership, as one does, warning others not to waste their time.

I feel that I should preface my van build site by saying: there are a lot of people who are way better at this than I am. Half the time I have no idea what I'm doing, haha, and I had a lot of help. So don't look to me for expert guidance. I'm just going to tell you how I did it, what worked, what didn't, and link to resources that I found helpful.

Originally, I tried several 3D design programs to sketch out my van build, but most of it went out the window in the end. My plans were tweaked and changed on an ongoing basis. The Sportsmobile website has some great floor plan grids you can download with the correct dimensions of each vehicle, so that's what I used to sketch out my initial ideas.

I would also caution anyone thinking about doing this that it's a huge, huge time commitment. Everything will take 4x longer than you expect and cost twice as much. It was fine during the pandemic when I had plenty of "quarantine time" on my hands, but once the world started to reopen, it was a huge sacrifice to be dedicating so much time to the van build. Just understand that it's like a full-time job, and it never ends, because you will constantly be adding/tweaking/fixing things. Depending on your lifestyle, it might be a better choice to pay a professional and give them input on customizing it.

A lot of people have asked me how much this cost. If you plan on getting a late-model Promaster or Transit and give it a semi-professional look that includes a full electrical system and water/plumbing system, I would ballpark it at $80k minimum regardless if you do it yourself or buy one used. Of course, there are people who do much simpler builds in older vans, it just depends on your budget and how comfortable you expect to be. There are definitely people who throw a sleeping bag, Ikea storage boxes, and a propane stove in a RAV4 and make it work. Whatever your budget is, the important thing is that you actually use it for its intended purpose, and that's to get out there and see it all and do it all.

Now that camper vans are becoming more popular, there are more financing options. But one benefit of building it myself was that I could pay for everything as I went, rather than all at once upfront. I definitely went way over my initial budget. One thing I really did not account for in my original estimates was all the tools I would need, and all the nails/screws/hardware/miscellaneous parts.

Having experienced travel by plane, by car, and by bicycle, I can say that traveling with a camper van is a whole new experience of its own. It's like having your whole home with you everywhere you go. The small space doesn't bother me much. I love that I can have camera gear, a drone, my bicycle, a basketball, a paddleboard, my hiking boots, whatever I need for whatever activity I'm in the mood for. I also love that I can work remotely on the road. Whenever I get a call from a client or have a pressing deadline I can just pull over anywhere and be in my office.

Are you still here with me? I know that was a lot. Let's get started.