We bought a van.

First, we bought a car after selling a car. That was last autumn. Last month, we sold the truck. Simplify and amplify. Or onward and upward, as we talked. It was all leading to this past weekend when we bought our van.

It's a crazy story. Here goes…

I don't remember when it started. Maybe in New Zealand.

We rented a campervan for a couple of weeks because we were cheap. Flights to New Zealand were expensive, after all. More than that, we also were excited to give staying in a campervan a go. To not have to set up a tent every single night. As it turned out, that little van was pretty cozy, despite it being essentially an antiquated Toyota Sienna. With the steering wheel on the right. That was interesting. All things considered, we absolutely loved it. The bug had bitten us. There was no going back.

For comparison, a couple years later, we rented a camp trailer. We wanted to see the difference hauling something vs. not.

That was a ton of fun. Even the little Squish had a good time. The trouble was, we discussed, was maneuverability. It was tough with a 14' trailer lugging behind us. We were set: a campervan it would be.

Fast-forward until recently-ish. 2020 is K's sabbatical year. When we bounced around ideas, the one that floated to the top of the list was Iceland. Flights are cheap. Once there, just like with New Zealand, we'd rent a campervan and live out of it for a few weeks while we toured around the country. However, at the end of the trip we'd of course have to give back the van. It'd be an expensive rental.

K then floated a different idea: what if we took the several grand we'd put into renting a van (and while we were doing the math, the flights and other travel expenses to get to a little country that lies on the arctic circle) and, well, bought our own. Brilliant! The search was on.

And on, and on, and on. #vanlife is all the rage and vans are hard to come by these days. We were also incredibly picky. After doing our homework, we narrowed down what we wanted:

- A 2006 Mercedes Sprinter 2500 T1N SHC (Super-High Ceiling, so we could stand up in it) 140" wheelbase

Hands-down, the 2006 Sprinter wins every single bet, poll, and Thanksgiving dinner argument for best Sprinter of all time.

The 5-cylinder turbocharged diesel engine is a tank. There are rumors they last 1,000,000 miles. Evidence of 500,000, even 700,000 miles, run rampant on the forums. 'They don't make 'em like they used to,' it goes. 

With our particulars in order, we set out to scour Facebook Marketplace, Craigslist, and OfferUp. The trouble with everyone knowing the 2006 Sprinters are the best is that, well, everyone knows the 2006 Sprinters are the best. We likely had some competition. So we were willing to settle for a 2005. Which we found back in March in Bend, Oregon. We were all set to make the drive down US-97 and check it out.

Then COVID-19 happened. Oregon and Washington shut down. Our Sprinter dreams were dashed, if only temporarily.

A few weeks ago, with things looking to be on the upswing and restrictions easing, I emailed the owner and asked if he was still thinking of selling. Turned out he was. Even better, he was storing the van in Seattle and would be coming out from the east coast. That was last week. The days crawled as we awaited last Friday, when we planned on driving over the mountains and meeting him in the Issaquah REI parking lot to finally take a look at a Sprinter. 'Oh,' he had mentioned in our email exchange, 'there's a little bit of rust.' We had just sold our 1991 Toyota pickup which also had a little bit of rust. I wasn't terribly concerned.

That is, until we saw it. The van was being eaten alive by New England salt-induced iron oxide. K's dad had met us from Ellensburg. When he poked his finger in a rust spot on the van's paneling, he had to pull back to keep it from going all the way through. There were signs of hacking Bondo in places Bondo shouldn't need to go. Driving it I had to yell talking with Scott and the van felt like it was about to crumble right there underneath us as we lumbered down I-90.

He was asking $8500, claiming without the rust it was worth fifteen. It's only worth what someone else is willing to pay, I didn't tell him. We said we couldn't go above four thousand. That wasn't even an offer, more a suggestion. While grabbing coffee at Issaquah Coffee Company and driving up to Ballard to pick up a Weehoo trailer for Sefton, K and I chatted. She asked a great question: 'If we buy this van, will we keep looking at them for sale, just out of curiosity?' That would mean we weren't satisfied. That this van wasn't for us.

He called us back. If we could come up to five grand, the van was ours. I told him we had to pass. That was that. Our van dreams were dashed again.

We headed back to K's parents' house to stay the night. When we got there, we told Scott we hadn't bought it. He pulled out his phone, then K and I joined him, and we all started searching again. We had searched already. It was really just to kill time, to make ourselves somehow feel better. Then he asked, 'Have you seen this one?' He handed me his phone. I hadn't. There were three photos and the title: 2006 Dodge Sprinter. It was seven miles away.

I texted Al if we could take a look. He got right back to me, and we were set to meet him at noon Saturday. This van was night and day different from the New Hampshire rust mobile. Sure, a hundred thousand more miles. But Al was the original owner. He bought it at the Dodge dealer in Olympia, then used the van for his tile business in Federal Way. The van spent it's life here, not in the northeast. It was well maintained. Most importantly, there wasn't any rust that concerned us. We could hardly contain our excitement. So we faked it. Asked a bunch of questions. Poked around a little more. Then Al and I went for a drive while Scott and K hung out in his driveway.

When we got back, K and I confered behind the van for about 45 seconds. We offered him eight. With a moment's hesitation, he took it. COVID be damned, we shook on it. Then we hauled ass to the bank while I called customer support so we could get an increase on our ATM withdrawal limit. Without a minute to spare, I got through and, well, the rest is history. We got our 2006 Mercedes Sprinter 2500 T1N SHC 140" wheelbase and couldn't be more stoked.

Now, the fun begins. The work, too. As our luck continued, there's a guy in Cashmere ten minutes down the highway who specializes in T1N Sprinters. Bryce, who owns his little booming company, Portland Sprinter Connection. Turns out he grew up here. He sells parts and does maintenance on 2002-2006 T1N Sprinters. I met up with him and his dad today at their storage unit off Highway 2.

He had a brand new left headlamp assembly, so I took it. We'll find the righthand assembly to match eventually. He also had some oil filters, a fuel filter, and a cabin filter.

He had a lot of other stuff, too. A pull handle for the passenger door (at K's request), the rear cargo door catch strap and latch (one of ours is twisted and broken, respectively), unworn power window and various other dashboard buttons (ours were worn clean), a rear cargo door contact switch (ours is missing a metal clasp to hold it in place). A rear left corner bumper (ours is missing).

Sefton's playing with a new fusebox. There's something weird going on with the electrical that neither Scott nor I could track down over the weekend. I'm hoping swapping out the fusebox will solve it.

Then there's a couple of steps. The van was a tile van, after all, and the cargo area step is covered in hardened ceramic tile dust. It's basically concrete. Bryce had one that looked brand new.

Most importantly, he had a two-person bench seat. $350. Boom. This is what matters. As it turns out, we want to take our little Squish with us and he needs a place to sit. Most van conversions don't need to take into account another seat, so it's a little more complicated. It's also a little intimidating to install a seat that will hold our second-born child. Maybe our first-born every once and a while, too. Enter Bryce, again. He offered to help me install it in the next couple of weeks. We'll have to drop the fuel tank below the frame to mount the brackets, so I'm thankful to have his help (and, umm, expertise).

Almost $900, and a ton of parts later, we're looking pretty good. I unscrewed all the 1/4" plywood paneling Al had installed to find nearly-perfect sheet metal behind. Yep, looking pretty good. This week, we'll start to deep-clean everything before ripping out the floor and spraying a coat of rust protection throughout the cargo area. Then we'll start the process of installing insulation and the new subfloor. Oh, and take a trip to Lowe's* to look at flooring options and start picking out our materials palette.

* Way to go, Marvin Ellison!