Building a bed, and sleeping on it

In January 2019, we embarked on a roadtrip across the U.S. in our newly purchased Outback. Not only was this the first car we bought together, it was the first vehicle we could really travel with — at least, in the way we had always wanted.

Geoff, my husband, had done solo adventures before. He drove down the West Coast, camping in the wilderness with just him and his 2006 Prius. Now, it was time for us to adventure together. We had a rough plan: go from Seattle to New Orleans and back while visiting as many national parks as possible. We wanted to do as much car camping as possible, which, to me, meant one thing — an opportunity to build!

The bed box

After some cursory research, I decided on a simple concept: the “bed box”. It would be a hollow box, split into two pieces, in which we could have a permanent bed on top, and store the necessities of life within.

I originally envisioned the kitchen chute to contain a pop-out table (P3 feature).

The trick was making sure we had enough room to get in/out and sleep comfortably. I began by measuring, starting with recording every inch of the car. Then, I moved on to finding standard plastic bins sizes that could fit within. Finally, I estimated the amount of vertical space we needed to sleep comfortably and, most important for Geoff, how much space we needed in order to code in bed.

From the design and measurements came iteration and simplification. The “kitchen table” I initially dreamed was impractical for cooking and so was replaced with a stand-alone foldable table. The “chutes” inside the box were simplified from four to three so we could have one “long bin” that ran the entire length of the box. This would be more flexible for post-road trip use cases. The box openings that opened to the passenger doors on either side were enlarged for easier access, and the front “cubby” was scrapped in favor of a net between the front seats.

After all the planning, building the box was incredibly rewarding. After hours of work, the design manifested itself into reality, and it fit perfectly!

Putting on the Finishing Touches

With the bed box built, it was time to move on to the next level of modifications. Like any good PM, I made a prioritized list, and Geoff and I divided the work. We got through all the “P0”s and even some of the “P1”s, so when January finally came, we were ready to go.

Iterating on the Fly

All the planning in the world can’t prepare for reality, but it can mitigate risk. Our bed box worked far better than expected, although it did take some time (and stretching!) to perfect the crawl to-and-from the front seats and the bed. The biggest problem was our side bins (aka our “night stands”).

The idea of these originated from one of our early trial runs. Before we left for our 2-month journey, we did two, two night adventures within Washington state. The bed box was comfortable and provided more than enough space for sleeping and storing items, but there was a huge gap between the box and the side doors. While there was no risk of falling, there was enough space to roll into the gap, and there was an opportunity to use it for storing easy-access items.

A few months earlier, I had purchased two black bins from Ikea that I hoped to use for organizing my home office. While they didn’t fit for my office, they were the perfect size for the gap. I beta tested them during our final test run with the bin loosely in place and loved it. So, I installed brackets and hooked them onto the bed box. Problem solved! (or so I thought).

I cannot stress enough the importance of testing your complete design in the real scenario. I assumed the bins would be perfect because they worked well in our test run. However, I never tested them with the brackets in place, nor with the weight of real items in them. It was clear after the first night on the road that the bins wouldn’t work. When attached to the box, they were bulky and difficult to move. Further, they completely blocked the access to the door handle so the only way to egress was to crawl over the front seats. My first night on the road was full of nightmares where my poor testing led to my demise — we needed change and fast.

The bins were composed of two parts - an outer shell and an inner ‘drawer’ that swung out. This drawer was taller on one end than the other. This gave me an idea: ditch the outer shell, flip the drawer, and install the brackets on the outside. I didn’t have all my tools like I did at home, but I did have a screwdriver and 8 hours of road time until our next destination. When we finally stopped and I tested the changes I was pleasantly pleased with the results, it worked much better than the original bins, and the taller edge provided a nice ‘frame’ on the bed to prevent rolling into the gap!

The Joy of Less

Living in your car forces simplicity. No longer tied down to one place and a house full of possessions, you have only each other, and what you can carry. We opted for staying mostly in national forests, away from people and away from cities. We drove on average 7 hours a day, bouncing from state-to-state while listening to podcasts, planning our wedding, and silently working on a laptop while the other drove.

Each day would bring new adventures and new problems to solve (the side bin being one of the first). Whether it was finding our campsite for the night, what we’d cook for dinner, how to protect our bikes from rain, or how to minimize gas usage, we found joy in working together as a team. The sense of accomplishment was immense, and the freedom to write your path each day, exhilarating.

Every day, I practiced living with intention and living simply. There is a silence that the empty road offers and through this silence, perspective. Removed from the complexities of everyday life in the city — work, social events, obligations, chores — you have a limited set of activities, and only your travel companion for company. It was during this time that I realized how the importance of saying “no”.

“Less is more” applies to all aspects of life, not just your belongings. Since returning home from our road trip, I spend less time (overall) with other people, but more quality time. I question every new object I bring into my life, and have purged over 70% of my wardrobe. Most importantly, I start each day with one word, a word that echoed through my soul on our journey — simplify.