#sfvanlife

I’ve folded and converted back to conventional living. It’s been an interesting ride but I was starting to become mentally and emotionally exhausted from the adventure. The constant worry of intruders and trouble as well as the never-ending search for safe parking spots just wore me out.

I still plan on posting retrospections here and snapping photos of vans found in and around San Francisco. It’s been a very learning experience and I’m glad I followed through with it. There were a lot of experiences and thoughts that I haven’t put down here but they will be posted as time allows.

Lately I’ve been seeing more sights that give me a shaky sense of security. In the past few months I’ve seen broken car windows, the shattered remains of a car window from who-knows-when, missing car stereos, and a car with a hand-written sign saying something along the lines of “please stop breaking into this car, I have nothing in here.”

Along with that is the usual weird and unsettling things you encounter in any major metropolitan area. This includes drug users, homeless people, and those who lack mental stability. Fortunately I haven’t had any acute incidents with these people but it’s still something that brings on a dose of unease to my mind.

It’s interesting to see the the things and people that make up this city. But there are some things that don’t make me feel like it’s a good idea to be van dwelling around here, even though I’ve been extremely careful and thoughtful about the places I end up parking for the night.

One morning I woke up to my alarm clock. Like any normal weekday, I stayed in bed awake a little while before heading to work. Suddenly I felt my van move. At first I thought “earthquake.” Next I thought “tow truck.” Since my front windshield visor was propped up, it was a little difficult for me to see what was going on. A few tense moments later, I heard a car driving away. It turned out that a car parked in front of mine had just love-tapped my cars bumper. I’m glad it was neither of the alternatives.

I recently went on a run through Golden Gate Park. I really ought to spend more of my daylight running miles here. Along the way I saw two people dressed in medieval armor play fighting with sticks, archers practicing their archery, a man practicing his trumpet, roller skaters having an open-air roller disco, photographers and a bike tour by the Conservatory of flowers, and a tiny but very obedient off-leash dog, among many many dogs. There were also siblings riding in the child seats of their parents’ bicycles calling across the street to each other, having fun “racing” down the road. There were BBQs, friends playing catch, dog owners playing fetch with their dogs. There were other runners just like me. When I finished my run at the beach, I saw a man wheeling around a telescope the size of a municipal trash can. I saw someone spinning fire poi and a couple of bonfires. The air smelled of salty ocean, wood fire, and occasionally a whiff of pot. There were surfers retiring for the evening, families packing up their beach gear, and a few vans I would reckon housed a few fellow van dwellers.