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Rooftop Tent Livin'? What People Think I Do...

Rooftop Tent Livin'? What People Think I Do...

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When I tell people about my “home,” it often feels like the notorious ‘What People Think I Do / What I Actually Do’ meme from 2012.

I understand how it sounds. A few years back, if someone told me they lived in a tent on top of their car I would probably laugh too and slowly back away thinking they lost their mind.

But the truth is, I LOVE living in my Toyota RAV4 with the Tepui HyBox rooftop tent as my full-time adventure home. I love it so much so that I’ve been doing it full-time for nearly 4 months.

My “home” comes with no rent payments, no shower, no bathroom, no formal kitchen, no A/C, and less than 30 square feet of “bedroom” space.

And while it’s quite the minimalist undertaking, it had offered me the experience of a lifetime. I’ve driven over 15K miles with the tent, boondocked on national lands for free, fell asleep and awoke to the most stunning views, and got a really good taste of life on the road.

Standing out at Descend on Bend 2019 in Bend, Oregon.

Standing out at Descend on Bend 2019 in Bend, Oregon.

I’ve gotten a bit obsessed with the trendy nomad lifestyle back in March 2019, walking my dog on Sunset Cliffs in San Diego every evening and passing hundreds of vans, RVs, campers and all kinds of eclectic dwellings-on-wheels that frequent this area. The curious thought of “can I do this?” wouldn’t go away.

By April, I was spending hours watching YouTube videos on van conversions and vlogs from hundreds of travelers “living their best van lives.” I was stalking Facebook marketplace and joining nomad groups to learn everything I possibly could about the lifestyle. My Instagram feed got filled with van life accounts I was now following, many of whom glamorized the lifestyle but lacked much of the practical advice. And at the end, the uncertainty factor was too high for me to pull the trigger.

These were my key reservations:

  • Didn’t want anything that dragged behind my car - campers/trailers were immediately out.

  • Didn’t want anything old that would be breaking down a lot - vintage vans were out.

  • Didn’t want anything that would take up more than one regular car spot - peace out, RVs!

  • Didn’t want to spend my annual salary - no to fancy Class B motorhomes starting at $100K+

  • Wasn’t sure I could handle a DIY project all on my own and didn’t know anyone living in a van personally.

  • Thought about buying a gently used, already converted van… a needle in a haystack.

But ultimately, my question remained IS IT for me? Can I test-drive this concept without having to spend a ton of cash and time? Was there a lower risk solution?

The answer came in the form of a rooftop tent (aka RTT).

A funny idea at first that grew and started to make more sense. I already had my 2013 Toyota RAV4 XLE with AWD with only 85K miles at the time. I owned the car; it’s been paid off for a while (no debt, yay, a win for a millennial!)

Could I simply mount a tent on top and live out of my car?

I deemed that a worthy idea to at least try. It also solved the above provision and the investment was minimal for the lifestyle I wanted. I did have two more requirements with the tent:

  • It had to be hardshell for easier setup (30 seconds vs. 5 min for a standard tent) and general roominess factor.

  • I didn’t want it to fold out to the side of the car and be propped by a ladder - that was a huge safety and stealth feature I wasn’t willing to compromise. I did not want to take up more than one parking space of room. I wanted to have the option of pulling the ladder inside if needed, for safety.

I initially went with Roofnest Sparrow but after the shipment came in badly damaged and horribly delayed, I opted to return it and purchase Tepui HyBox from a Rack Attack in Portland instead. One key perk of buying from a vendor was having the proper roof racks installed along with my new tent. They knew what they were doing and guaranteed their setup. I ended up with Thule top tracks and roof rack. My total out of pocket cost was just under $4,000.

But most importantly, that $4K bought me the lifestyle I desired in under a day of work. It gave me the freedom to roam wildly from coast to coast, cruising along stretchy highways, navigating the gravel roads to the best trailheads and occasionally off-roading to the wilderness all in the comfort of my sturdy but light-weight home on wheels.

Dispersed camping in La Sal Wilderness near Moab, Utah

Dispersed camping in La Sal Wilderness near Moab, Utah

Let’s discuss the PROS of choosing a rooftop tent over other motorhomes:

  1. Great way to test the #vanlife waters: no, it’s not like a self-contained van, but it’s a great place to start. A comfy bed to sleep on, storage for bed essentials like pillow and sleeping bag, rated for all-seasons, waterproof and did great in rough rain storms, quick and easy setup and cleanup, safer than ground camping, and allows for lots of storage room in my car to keep my travel and camping essentials.

  2. Low cost of entry: $4K vs. $40K for a newish van with basic conversion (and the cost goes way up from there). Even if I finance part of that cost – that is debt I’m not eager to have.

  3. Instant gratification: buying a tent straight from the manufacturer or authorized vendor = having your motorhome ready to go in a few hours. In contrast, van conversions can take weeks, even months.

  4. Straightforward maintenance: I drove a lot this year so my car service appointments became a monthly affair, but for $80-120 (every 5K miles), my vehicle is in top shape and I’m not dealing with mechanical issues. Instead, I’m getting to enjoy my travels. Additionally, Toyota is a reliable brand and most shops know what to do in case of a breakdown. Much easier than getting parts for vintage or specialty vehicles.

  5. Easy travel and parking: This car gets me anywhere with the 4WD, minus a few extremes. Because the tent just pops up, I don’t need any extra space outside the width of my car. I’ve slept at rest stops, truck stops, Walmarts and many other RV-friendly spots when dispersed camping was not a convenient or viable option. Beats sleeping in your car 100%.

  6. Fuel efficiency and speed: another reason I went with a hardshell model is because the design promised to provide a fuel-efficient, quiet ride. It works! The extra 165 pounds added to my rooftop did not impact my gas-milage at all. I’m still getting 25 miles/gallon on the highway and often forget I have a giant box on there. No wind noise, no rattling with the Thule rack setup. The tent came with a sticker recommending 65 mph speed limit, but I pushed that to mid-80s and it’s fine. The warning is more of a liability disclaimer than an actual speed restriction. Still, don’t be reckless with winding roads, obey the local laws and drive the speed limit.

  7. Storage space: my tent is designed by a rooftop tent pioneer, Tepui and functions as the first hybrid rooftop system on the market: a rooftop tent plus cargo box all in one. So in case I ever wanted to use that space as storage, I could simply convert the tent to a cargo space.

And then there are cons of RTT life:

  1. Lacking stealth: while the parking is never an issue, it’s hard to hide the fact that I’m camping up there. This obvious lack of stealth can be a bit awkward at times and potentially result in many more run-ins with authorities (when you break the rules). Luckily, I’ve yet to have experienced any issues but I stick with the rules and don’t camp where there is obvious signage that prohibits it.

  2. Weather: you are still sleeping outside, at mother-nature’s mercy. This is NOT the setup for extremes, cold or heat. Do not be like me and visit New Mexico and Southern Arizona in June! I’ve yet to camp in winter conditions, but I doubt it would be my gem. Camping in Montana in early June and waking up to mid-30s was very cold for a Floridian at least. But if you follow the weather patterns, this is a huge benefit of RTT life. All four sides unzip and allow for fresh air and breeze to come through. When zipped, the warmth is more or less trapped inside and the tent gets pretty cozy with a good quality sleeping bag.

  3. Safety: I have not had an instance where I felt unsafe, yet! But I am also hyper-aware of the fact that a cloth canopy is all that separates me from the crazy outside world. The 8.5ft telescoping ladder that came with the tent can be pulled up into the tent overnight, so no creeper gets the spontaneous idea of climbing up into my home. But safety is something that I do not take for granted and therefore, I bring self-defense essentials inside the tent with me each night. I hope I never have to use them, but if I must, I’ll be ready.

  4. Not super pet-friendly, but can work: if you are traveling with a pet, you know the challenge of keeping them safe and contained. While my dog loves sleeping in the RTT, the tent can never function as an unsupervised home for him while I’m out and about. Luckily, my car has plenty of room for a dog bed, but I am currently limited with leaving my dog alone depending on weather, location and local regulations. It’s not ideal, but I am making it work for now. Also, if your pet weighs anything above 30 pounds, lifting them up into the tent can be a challenge.

  5. Lacking essentials: this is an easy compromise for me at the moment, but I can see how in the long-run these things can become a burden. This is how I handle my basic needs right now:

    • Bathroom: go to public restrooms, at campsites or “Inca-toilet” as my last resort.

    • Shower: Planet Fitness membership - can’t be beaten with over 1,800+ locations worldwide, most open 24/7. I wish I also claimed that I worked out there, but that would be asking for too much 🤣

    • Kitchen: currently using outside propane grill, table and camping chair and an owning for cooking my meals outside

    • Food storage: currently using a generic cooler that needs to be maintained with ice every few days

    • Air-conditioning: does not exist right now, but I’ve learned to play along with the weather and move between lower and higher altitudes to avoid extremes. Although, I did get an occasional Airbnb to avoid the hell pits of southern Arizona and New Mexico in June (follow the weather, folks!)

    • Electrical & Water: there is no electrical supply other than the 12v ports in my car which are good for charging my phone and that’s about it. Water is stored in refillable plastic containers.

    • No desk space: not a big deal honestly, but since I work full time as a freelance digital marketer, I mainly stick to coffee shops, cafes and other pet-friendly establishments that offer free wifi to get my work done.

So here you go… many trade-offs from the typical van lifestyle, but also many wins for anyone wanting to test-drive this concept before going all in.

So here let me dispel the myths once and for all about what others think I do...

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Off-roading near Bend, Oregon with the tent closed and safely secured atop my car.

Off-roading near Bend, Oregon with the tent closed and safely secured atop my car.

Milo and I camping at BLM lands near Carbella, Montana.

Milo and I camping at BLM lands near Carbella, Montana.

Exploring White Sands National Monument near Las Cruces, New Mexico.

Exploring White Sands National Monument near Las Cruces, New Mexico.

Living in a van - manifesting 2020!

Living in a van - manifesting 2020!

What Vacation?

What Vacation?