Why I Ditched Van Life: Trading My Class B for a Super C RV
Alright, fellow Wanderers (or maybe wanna-be Wanderers)! This post might come as a shock, but I did it. I traded my beloved Jack Karavan in for a full-sized Super C RV. And boy, is she glorious!
You may be thinking, “But Ty, didn’t you say you love Van Life?”
And the answer is a resounding and unqualified “Yes!” But—and here’s the kicker—I hate living in a van. Let me explain!
Still deciding what to even buy? Start with Before You Buy a Van or RV: The Questions Nobody Tells You to Ask — then come back here for the honest van life vs RV life reckoning of a guy who did both.
Table of Contents
My #VanLife to #RVLife Evolution
While I love blogging, creating videos is a bit of a passion. Checkout my Youtube Channel Shifting Gears with Ty! While you are there – be sure to subscribe and turn on notifications so you are always updated when I drop new content.
Check out the videos below to see my evolution from #VanLifer to #RVLifer – why I did it – and how I discovered that true freedom isn’t the ability to go anywhere I want – its the ability to do whatever I want when I get there.
A #VanLife Weekend.
Switching to a Super C.
Why I Switched.
Why I Ditched the Van for A Super C!
The Week That Broke Me (and My Van Life Fantasy)
It all started when I was rained in for a week. Yep, it finally happened. After an amazing weekend riding at Thunder Mountain Bike Park, I was anxious for a little downtime. Using my amazing Thousand Trails Membership (read about my BaseCamp Thousand Trails Strategy here), I found a rather nice Trails Collection Property on Lake George. Click Here to See the YouTube Video of my Stay at Lake George Escape!
And boy, oh boy, was it lovely (watch the video here). But shortly after I got there, the skies opened up. It rained. And it kept raining. Not like a sprinkle, but like a biblical flood event in the making. For five days!
Trapped inside my van—only occasionally venturing out to try and grab a run—I had plenty of time to contemplate van life. My life. Things I don’t want to think about that I worked hard to repress. You get the drift.
And what profound truth did I realize? That I love the idea of van life, but I hate the reality of living in 20 square feet.
The Freedom Paradox: Why Van Life Is Constraining.
Van life in many ways gives you the ultimate freedom. From boondocking in the beautiful Green Mountain National Forest to sleeping in a random Planet Fitness parking lot,
a van allows you to explore with far fewer logistical considerations than a bigger rig. That’s awesome.
But in other ways, it constrains you. You are always tied to the van. Going anywhere requires prepping the van (more on that below), and you have to plan simple things like, Do I have to get to the trailhead by 5 AM to get parking big enough to accommodate my 20-foot home?
See, I’m a planner. An obsessive, compulsive planner who not only has to have a plan—I have to have a backup plan. For those nights I stayed in random parking lots, I actually planned 2–3 days for every one day I lived. And frankly, it got exhausting! Is that really freedom?
- If freedom is the chance to move anytime, anywhere—Van Life gives you that.
- But if you define freedom as the ability to do anything at anytime—Van Life restricts that.
Ease of Movement: House vs. Day-to-Day
One nice thing about a van is: you can pick up and move your entire house to a new spot easily. I can have my van ready to go in 10 minutes. My new RV? It’s about 1–2 hours.
But the flip side is: you don’t have ease of movement for day-to-day life. Want to go to the grocery store? Not so easy (see below). Planning on heading to the theme park? Where do you park, how big are the spots, do they allow oversize vehicles, and how much do they charge (hint: one theme park charges $60 a day for oversized vehicles)?
If you spend a couple of days or less than a week in each location, a van is perfect. If you are like me, and 2–3 weeks becomes your typical length of stay, a van becomes more constricting than liberating.
What I Missed (and What I Hated)
Perhaps my favorite part of van life was the ability to have my kitchen and bedroom always with me. I was at a popular National Park trailhead. Parking was notoriously full by 7 AM. I got there at 6:15 AM, secured a spot, had a bowl of Cheerios, and chilled out. When I got back, I moved a little down the road, had lunch, took a 30-minute nap, then hit the next trail. If there is one thing I will miss the most, that’s it.
However, the things I hated led directly to the Super C:
1. Going Anywhere Is Always a Hassle
Every time that van moved, it was a whole process. Things had to be put away, secured, and locked. I forgot several times. Do you think cleaning up dog food mixed with pasta sauce that has now permanently stained your closet is fun?
Nope. It’s not. Especially when it all comes flying out mid-turn and a glass jar of pasta sauce projectile breaks against a cabinet, making a fun to clean mixture of glass shards, dog food and clothing. I actually almost cried that day.
Want a quick trip to the grocery store? Not happening in a van. You have to unhook, stow everything, drive to the store, and park in the back where, inevitably, someone will park right next to you just to freak you out, despite a million open spaces.
2. The Lack of Space to Do Normal Life Stuff
Aside from being in a cool forest, what I missed was doing normal stuff. Like baking a cake or watching TV on the couch. In a van, I was either lying down or sitting straight up like a Catholic schoolboy, awaiting inspection with a ruler at the ready for a knuckle swat. Those were my only options.
Sometimes, you just want to binge-eat Oreos and watch Netflix. (Not that I’m doing just that right now as I write this article… Nope…) I like normal people stuff, too!
Why The Super C RV Was a Better Fit
At the end of the day, I had bought into the fantasy of van life, not the reality. And I committed the cardinal sin: I failed to “know thyself.” I thought I’d be spending 80% of my time off-grid on BLM land. Frankly, that’s not how life panned out.
I bet I ended up spending about 60% of my time in campgrounds (Thousand Trails, National Park/Forest Service/State Park), 20% in transit, and only 20% in the great open wild. For that 20%, I gave up a real fridge, a stove, a comfortable bed, and the ability to easily prepare meals.
1. I Prefer a BaseCamp with Outreach Ability
The RV actually gives me more flexibility because of the tow vehicle (toad). Now, I establish a BaseCamp in an established campground, and I venture out from there. Whether it’s to see a movie or head to a hike, I jump in my Bronco and I go. That’s a freedom I didn’t truly have in the van, because if I wanted to move the van, it required significant effort.
2. My OCD Required a Change
When I realized this was going to be a 3–5 year thing, not a 2-year experiment, I had to address my core personality: the compulsive planner with OCD. Something magical happened when I could move, take all my stuff, and all my stuff stayed in the exact same place. That hit every little neuron of positive dopamine receptors I have.
See, that obsessive-compulsive thing is real. One night in Spain, I repacked the same suitcase 13 times, not because I’d forgotten anything, but because I thought something wasn’t in the right place in the packed suitcase. The RV solved the chaotic “moving day” problem. It gave me the freedom to travel in a way that made my OCD much more manageable!
3. I Want My Creature Comforts, Damn It!
I missed being able to sit on the couch and watch TV. I missed making bread. I missed having a reliable freezer to store ice cream. I missed having a bed big enough where my feet didn’t hit the wall. Boondocking and exploring is fun, but in doses. Doing it all the time starts to take a toll.
Just How Constricting was My Revel Compared to My Grand Design??
Check out the two videos below – one is the tour of my 2025 Winnebago Revel. The other is when I take possession of the Grand Design! And while you are there – make sure to Subscribe to my Channel Shifting Gears with Ty!
Chasing great mountain biking, camping smart, and living full-time in an RV. Hard-won wisdom. Zero fluff. Live Free. Adventure Often
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See Ways to Support →My Strategy: Super C + Toad = The Perfect Thousand Trails BaseCamp
Ultimately, the Super C fits my actual travel style—not the fantasy one—perfectly. My strategy hinges on creating a comfortable, cost-effective BaseCamp, and the Super C is the ideal vehicle for that plan.
- Comfort and Cost-Effectiveness: I use my Thousand Trails Membership to park the Super C at one location for two to three weeks, significantly cutting down on my camping costs. That time is spent in total comfort, utilizing the RV’s full kitchen and space.
- The Rover Advantage: Once the Super C is parked and leveled, the van’s “hassle of movement” problem completely vanishes. My toad (towed vehicle) becomes my personal “Rover”—my little adventure vehicle that can easily zip into crowded trailheads, grocery store parking lots, and movie theaters. This gives me the ease of movement I craved without sacrificing my home comforts.
For me, this combination is the most comfortable and cost-effective way to full-time RV. If you’re looking to adopt this same strategy, I highly recommend checking out the Thousand Trails network.
Thinking of Joining? Explore Your Options.
Van Life vs. RV Life: Which Is Right for You?
The choice between a van and an RV is difficult. I’m actually glad I had a van first—it gave me a great, low-commitment introduction to the RVing world. However, you need to be honest about your travel style.
Here is a quick comparison to help you decide:
Feature | Van (Class B) | Super C / Class C RV |
Set-up/Tear-down Time | ≈10 minutes | ≈1−2 hours (with toad) |
Day-to-Day Movement | Constricting (hard to park) | Easy (unhook toad) |
Length of Stay | Better for short stays (≤1 week) | Better for long stays (≥2 weeks) |
Off-Grid Access | Excellent (smaller, stealthier) | Poor (large, requires specific spots) |
Living Comfort | Minimalist (limited space, storage) | High (space, full kitchen, real bed) |
Ty’s Takeaway: The key is to know yourself. I bought into a fantasy that wasn’t who I was. I envisioned remote solitude but preferred a social BaseCamp with the ability to easily outreach using a toad. My definition of “freedom” changed: it’s not the freedom to sleep anywhere, but the freedom to live comfortably and go anywhere, anytime, in my separate vehicle.
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A Little Bit About Me.
I started writing this blog as a way to capture the adventurous and free lifestyle I’m privileged to live. I’ve traveled to over 28 countries and 35 U.S States. I’ve lived aboard in multiple countries and averaged over 100 days a year of travel for work. I’ve skied and hiked all over the world – and my new obsession is mountain biking.
What I bring to you isn’t AI generated. It’s based on my feet on the ground – or sometimes conversations with locals. Click here to read more about me! And, for a State-By-State guide of Where I’ve been and Where I’m headed, make sure to check out my Itinerary and Destination Page by clicking here!!!