Van Life: Rabbits on the Road

Surely by now you've realized that our pet rabbit, Pancake, aka Vancake (aka Munch, Munchy, Munchy Bun, Nut Bun, Boo Bun, Bunny Boo Boo, Sweet Creature, Creature, Creatch, Muffin, Panna Cotta, Sweet Face, Baby, Bunser, and Ms. Bun), lives with us in the van. Although unusual, it is not unique. Prior to seeking out a new pet, we watched other mobile rabbits and got tips from their owners. Cameron's favorite is Daytona, the trucker rabbit, and I've been a longtime follower of @mort.on.the.move, who lives out of a Canada-based RV. There are also a handful of online articles and videos which detail the highs and lows of having a roving rabbit; this is my attempt to contribute to the information available. 

Pre-Adoption Considerations

Rabbits are not naturally suited to car travel. Most feel uncomfortable while moving, and may not eat or poop until they are settled again. Naturally, this is a health concern, and it would be cruel to keep a creature in that state of discomfort long-term. Although I wanted a rabbit so badly, I was not going to adopt a rabbit that couldn't thrive in the van. My main qualifications were a rabbit that was large and durable, although if I could add a third wish, it would be to find a rabbit with a docile demeanor. 

Rabbits are social animals, and they tend to do better when they are in a bonded pair. Some European countries have animal cruelty laws that prevent you from owning just one. We would have considered a pair, but ideally we wanted to start off as a one-bun household with the intention of finding a mate once we were settled post-Goldilocks Project. As social animals, rabbits need lots of attention, and luckily with Cameron and I working from home, we'd be able to give the rabbit fairly constant interactions.

Initially, I wanted one of the corgi-sized German Giants, but it is difficult to find a large rabbit in the US. Pancake is on the bigger side of average (she's probably about 10lbs), but she was only listed as "medium" on the adoption website. Initially, we didn't consider her because she wasn't "large," but after fostering her for a month we couldn't give her up. By that point, we had taken her on short car rides (20-60 minutes) and could tell that she'd be fine. Normally, she was on alert for the first 15 minutes, but then would start to settle down, and sometimes even lay down in her carrier. Although she typically refused treats while in the car, it seemed like she would continue to become more relaxed. 

Even though it seemed like we had fortuitously fostered the perfect rabbit (albeit, she's not particularly docile, but I think in the end I prefer an active and curious bunny), I was still worried that we were being selfish. I DM'd @mort.on.the.move to ask his advice (he did not answer; he is a rabbit after all), and I texted my friend who co-runs the rabbit shelter I volunteered at in Krakow. Her response is what made me feel ok about this decision: "as long as she can hop around and stand on hind legs from time to time she should be fine."

Downsides of Having a Rabbit

Before we officially committed to adopting Pancake, we had to make some van build decisions that would be affected by having a pet. Number one priority was to have a space that would fit her litter box, plus some additional floor space, that she would be safe in while moving. During the two trial trips, she was confined to her carrying cage, which surely was uncomfortable for the long trip. We had to make sure to stop every 2-3 hours to give her a chance to stretch her legs and use the litter box, but it was obvious she was not very happy with us. Even now that she had litter box access 100% of the time, we still try to take extended stops at least every 3 hours for her sake.

She's much more comfortable in her "cubby." She knows that it is her space, and she happily jumps in and out on her own accord. Even though it is her preferred snoozing spot, she doesn't like it when we lock her in there (either at night or during drives), and she's starting to find creative ways to attempt escape. 

Bunny-proofing woes is another ongoing concern. We've lost a few flyaway cables to her chewing and we no longer let her free roam at night. Although she can jump off of the bed on her own, she's not the most athletic rabbit and she's had a few flops. I think she's sometimes afraid to jump down, and if she stays on the bed too long she uses it as a potty. Cameron read that she may have peed on the bed because it smells like us, so she assumes it's our litter box. It's a very cute explanation, but nonetheless I don't want rabbit urine on my sheets, especially when we have inconsistent access to a washing machine. We've had to get creative about how to keep her off of the bed, but every time we come up with a clever solution, she figures out a way to outsmart us after a few days. 

Her cubby is about 4'x2'x2', which isn't a significant amount of room on it's own, but we also need to make space for her food (pellets in the pantry and fresh greens in the fridge), her carrying cage (kept in the "garage" space under the bed), and other general maintenance items (hay, litter, potty pads, etc. are kept in a big Rubbermaid box under the bed). The last time we were at a pet store, Cameron insisted on buying a tunnel toy, so now that floats around our already limited floorspace. Clearly, we make do without the storage space, but if we didn't have her I probably would repurpose those areas for better-organized pots and pans and for a more accessible laundry. Oh well; Munchy Bunny takes precedent. 

We are a little less flexible with her. If we were on our own, we would probably work from public libraries and coffee shops more often, but instead we choose to stay in the van with her. We do periodically leave her alone (if we go on a hike or out to dinner, for example), but we still have to keep the fan and AC going. 

I think people assume rabbits are smelly. On the contrary, rabbits are naturally very clean, and once things are arranged in a suitable way, they tend to be fairly tidy. The thing that smells is their urine, but so long as you keep good cleaning habits (replace the litter every 2-3 days), there shouldn't be a smell. Just in case, we've added some ventilation holes on the door-side of her cubby, so when the door is open there is some airflow from the outside. I also have a light hay allergy, which is partially why we keep the hay in an air-tight container. I've found that so long as I replace her hay outside of the van, it doesn't trigger my allergies. 

The biggest downside to having a van bun is my ongoing concern that she is not living her best life. Any chance we get, we let her run in the grass or bring her inside a house to roam, and it's obvious that she's enthused. As previously mentioned, Pancake is an exceptionally curious bunny, so having an ongoing change of scenery is probably good for her, but I wish we could give her more day-to-day rumpus room. In compensation, we feed her really well and she gets as much love and attention as she could possibly ask for.

Upsides of Having a Rabbit

She's so darn cute! Do I need to say more? 

The main benefits of having Pancake are the same as any other pet. If you don't like rabbits, don't get one! That said, I think that bunnies are by far the most adorable and curious pet you can have. As far as van-specific benefits, it's easy to be stealthy with her, since she doesn't make any noise and we don't have pet-specific items strewn about. Her litter is far less smelly than a cat's. As a vegetarian, I'm also glad I don't have to keep meat-based pet food in the van (some people call rabbits "vegan cats"). 

Pancake is a diffuser for tension between me and Cameron. She's an extra "person" to talk to and she's a nice distraction when I need one. When we are in an uncomfortable situation but don't want to admit it, we can place blame on the rabbit. For example, if it's really hot outside, then she's our excuse for paying $45 to sleep in a campground with electricity hookups for the night –  we need to run the AC for the rabbit's sake, not ours!

I think both Cameron and I have seen improvements in our mental health since adopting her. Just being able to watch her do silly things brings joy and spontaneity to our lives (although I could argue that van life inherently increases spontaneity). I'm not willing to research it, but I am willing to bet that there are a slew of studies that show that people generally are happier when they have pets. I'm sure part of that is having to put your focuses on the pet rather than yourself. We're about to leave for a 3-week backpacking trip, and rather than being worried about the physical strain and looming fire warnings, I'm more concerned about if she's going to get enough attention from my parent's and their elderly dog while we're gone (even though mom calls Pancake her "grandbunny," I don't think she's particularly looking forward to bunnysitting for a month).

A final plus – she's a point of interest when visiting people. Sure people, are curious about van life, but they are especially intrigued by our sweet baby bunny. We've discovered that Pancake is great with kids, and she love's the attention she get's from them, so it's a win-win situation; with the right age group, the kids and the rabbit basically co-babysit each other. 

Just looking at the number of paragraphs, it seems like the bads outweigh the goods, but that's absolutely not the case. Each of those downsides are so minor, and having her around brings virtually no hardship to our lives. We love our Sweet Creature, and I truly think that she's a big reason why van life has been so enjoyable so far. 

Get ready for a slew of bunny pics!

Most of the time, Pancake is snoozing in her cubby or on the main floor during the day, so most of these pics are of a napping bun.

So adorable! 

Aggh! I know this gives you no context to van life, but the fact that she can sleep this deeply means she's pretty comfortable. 

Using her upturned food bowl as a pillow.

Mid-dinner snooze.

Attempting to drink out of her water bottle while laying down.

Pancake often knocks down her water bottle in an attempt to escape her cubby when the doors are closed. It's her own fault she doesn't have floor space to rest her paws.

It's hard to say if she prefers to be in or out of her cubby. On the outside there is more foot-licking access. You can also see the must-have tunnel in the background.

Looking at Pancake from one of the outside-facing vent hole.

And for context, you can see the full set of holes from the inside.

When practical, we try to give Pancake outside time.

We make sure she's shaded and monitored at all times. 

Although leashing her is probably best, she really hates being harnessed. 

One of our attempts to bunny-proof the bed.

If we aren't actively keeping her off of something, any surface is fair game. 

Look at her plotting her jump!

She made it.

When on the bed, she mostly just pushes sheets around and tries to flatten them out.

If we're up there with her, it's guaranteed licks. 

I know it's blurry, but this was her not-so-graceful attempt at jumping down.

Like I said, she's great with kids! (These pics are from a house we stayed at for a family reunion.)

And the kids were amped to let her out of her room as much as possible. 

I think she started to need some alone time. After a long kid-session, I found her as deep under the bed as possible.

She's our little bunny buddy and we love her!

De Pere, WI

De Pere had a lot to live up to after our thoroughly enjoyable two weeks in Michigan. The night before arriving we spent the night at a private lake off of a national forest road, which could have been excellent if it weren't for the maddening mosquitos. Unfortunately, that alongside a hazy overcast, made our first day in De Pere a little lackluster.

Continuing to give De Pere a poor reputation was the public bathroom I used along a riverside park; it was the worst bathroom I've ever been in, and I have been in a lot of public bathrooms. Not long after that experience, we discovered that most shops and restaurants were closed (either because it was a Monday or because it was 4th of July).

To counterbalance the off-putting first impression was a pretty riverwalk alongside the Fox River locks and a seemingly-new educational flower garden. From the river trail we saw lots of anglers and nearly an equal number of pelicans. The downtown stretched across both sides of the river, but the west side was clearly superior. There was a fair amount of art, including one of the most beautiful murals I've ever seen, and an actively-marketing community theater.  

To finish off our time there, we had lunch at Nicolet, a diner that did not cater heavily to their vegetarian customers, followed by a walk through St. Norbert College's campus. We spent the remainder of the day driving through nearby Door County, a peninsula surrounded by Lake Michigan and Green Bay. Had we hit De Pere on the right day in the right mood, I'm sure it would have been charming. 

The Good

• Nice riverside park, although the walking trail that we were on was not very long.
• Interesting community summer events being advertised: art walk, farmer's market, food truck rally, music nights, yoga in the park, and sidewalk sales. 
• Cool art around town.
• Near to some very cool places, like Cave Point County Park and Sister Bay on the Door Peninsua.
• Centrally located in the US (meaning easy access to almost everything).
• A good sized town: large enough to support a robust community theater but small enough to walk to everything. 

The Bad

• Nothing particularly stunning. Every time we would come across a pretty spot, it was marred by something slightly off. 
• The river was kind of gross looking. Boating might be fine, but swimming would definitely be off limits. 
• There was a nice looking biking trail next to the river, but a sign warned that bikers and rollerbladers had to pay a fee.
• This is a silly gripe, but I don't like the name De Pere and I can't keep track of the correct pronunciation. 

The Verdict

No. I had intended for us to spend a few days in De Pere, but nothing we saw on day one was compelling enough to bring us back for another visit. 

This was our first true view of De Pere, and it would have made a great first impression if it weren't for the other negative events leading up to this.

A fair number of people out fishing on their holiday. The Fox River feeds into Green Bay, contributing (I presume) to it's name. 

I have mixed feelings about locks. They're cool, but sort of a nuisance. Also, we didn't see any fish ladders built into the dam, so this is likely the only method for fish to get higher upstream.  

The dam mentioned in the previous photo's caption. You can also see a cluster of cormorants and pelicans on a cluster of rocks right in front of it. 

This public garden may have been the prettiest part of De Pere. From what I could tell, there was nothing there to leave a negative aftertaste. 

Downtown was eerily empty.

Not only did it lack people, but it also seemed to have building gaps.

A very cool mural.

What I am dubbing "bee alley." These bee sculptures extended back pretty farm, and were intermixed with some giraffe sculptures and bee-themed print art. I couldn't figure out if there was any connection with the gyro place that was located inside the building (probably not).

Per usual, I found an event listing hung up at a shop front, but this was the only shop we passed that was advertising these community events. 

Conversely, "Shrek the Musical" was being heavily advertised around town.

A new cultural center is being built.

A nice looking college campus, although I couldn't get into any of the buildings to snoop around more. 

The very off-putting fee-to-ride sign.

Now for the best parts of De Pere, which were outside of the city:

The blue waters of Lake Michigan and the sound of light waves echoing in semi-submerged caves at Cave Point County Park.

Despite the gloom and cold water, we had to jump in.

On nice days, goats graze on the thatch roofs of this Swedish-themed shop and restaurant in Sisters Bay.

Despite the looming downpour, there were people enjoying an outdoor beer.

Van Life: Routines

I have always prided myself on being organized and careful and thoughtful and dependable and tidy; all good things when in a job interview. Most of these I can attribute to the routines I've set for myself. Now that I am living in a van, that orderly structure to my day has "whiffed out the window."

Pre-van, my ideal day started off at 7:00am, morning maintenance, a leisurely breakfast, and sitting down to work by 8:30. Around 10:30 I would have a snack, then lunch (last night's leftovers) at 12:30ish, and then back to work until about 2:30pm. The rest of my afternoon would be dedicated to chores, errands, and typically a 30-60 minute walk. While Cameron was finishing up work, I would cook dinner, we'd eat around 6:30 or 7:00, and then spend an hour or two watching Netflix or working on the van. Bedtime was by 9:30pm. 

Now, not a single one of those elements is unchanged. 

Let's start with the mornings. Since we left Utah, we've mostly been in the Eastern and Central time zones. Cameron and I both work with teams on the West Coast, so we've tried to start work a little later in the day to help keep our schedules aligned with our coworkers. That means no morning alarm clock, but waking up at inconsistent times (for me it ranges from 6:00 to 8:30) and in inconsistent places is disorienting. 

What happens next varies on a number of factors. How late we can stay at our sleeping spot, how accessible a bathroom is, how far we need to drive for the day, when our first work meetings are, what the weather forecast is, and if we have internet access all play into the decisions of what we eat for breakfast, as well as when and where we eat it. Some mornings are leisurely, but others are mad with activity.

Typically, once we've arrived at our working destination, things settle down for a few hours, but there are still day-to-day challenges. If we both have meetings at the same time, typically one of us will go outside (either to sit at a park bench or inside of a nearby café). If that's not practical, we create as much space between us as possible (Cameron sitting in the passenger seat while I go to the far end of the bed) and are strategic when using the mute button. 

For lunch, we still eat last night's leftover's when available, but our cooking habits have changed. Making elaborate meals is difficult on a one-burner camp stove, so dinners are often smaller (meaning no leftovers) and we're eating out more frequently (which also means no leftovers). I'm having to adapt to food I used to scoff at, like cereal, sandwiches, and ever-frequent couscous salads. 

After I finish work for the day, I'm looking for any excuse to get out of the "house." We've learned to look for spots that have interesting walking trails nearby so that I can come and go without interrupting Cameron's afternoon. We have plans to hike the John Muir Trail in August (a 20+ day backpacking trip with many miles and lots of daily elevation gain) so I would like to be training for that. Training should involve long hikes with a heavy backpack, or at least going running, but because we're limiting our showers, I'm doing very little strenuous activity.

Despite trying to avoid breaking a sweat, I'm sure I appear grubbier than I used to. Partially because I am – showers get pushed to every three or four days and I tend to re-wear the same outfit for at least three days in a row – but I'm also losing some basic daily habits that I thought were set for life. My toothbrush and floss are kept in separate parts of my toiletries bag, so I sometimes forget to floss in the mornings. I'm not putting on sunscreen as often as I should, and I'm definitely not washing my face every day because it's cumbersome in our setup. I think I've remembered deodorant every day so far, but there's an odor that tells me otherwise. 

Like the mornings, evening schedules vary. When we find someplace pleasant, we tend to stay a few days, but we occasionally have to get to a particular place within a constrained timeframe. Those days, we'll start driving as soon as reasonably possible given Cameron's afternoon meetings schedule. We try to keep daily drive times under three hours, but that's not always practical, and our dinner options change. More than once I've wished our 10'+ van could fit through a fast food drive through, but since it can't we find alternatives. I'm usually the one driving so that Cameron can finish up any last minute things at work, but once he's done, I send him to the back of the van to gather a hodgepodge of snacks. Sometimes those snacks are substantial enough to replace dinner, but even when they are, eating while driving is rarely satisfying. 

More than once, we've pulled into our final destination after 9:00pm (which I used to consider my bedtime). Even if we're adequately fed and dead-tired, we have at least 15 minutes of evening prep that needs to happen. Additionally, lately we’ve been driving through the Dakota plains region, which is regularly hitting 100°+ highs, so if we want to do anything outside, we have to do it early in the day. Twice in the last week we’ve woken up at 3am to hike in national parks (Theodore Roosevelt and Badlands). With the irregular sleep schedule, I am noticeably crankier (although Cameron thinks that my crankiness is because of the small space) and I am drinking coffee on a far more regular basis (this last week I drank coffee at least thrice!).

Maybe this is TMI, but I think the change in sleeping habits, diet, exercise, and bouncing between time zones have changed my bathroom habits. I can't predict if I will want to be near a public bathroom in the morning, the afternoon, evening, or all three. We have used the van’s toilet more in recent weeks, and I have started to notice a smell. One day (while working in 95° degree whether atop a ski hill in the Black Hills) it stunk so bad! I wasn’t sure if it was because of the toilet’s recent usage or if the heat was stirring up the stink, but I was about ready to quit van life altogether. By the end of the day, Cameron discovered we just hadn’t sealed the toilet properly the last time we emptied it, so thankfully we were able to fix that and get back to our normal neutral (at least I hope!) odor.

The one daily routine that we’ve developed is very van-specific. Every evening, we transition the van from driving mode to sleeping mode. At a minimum, we pull out custom window covers from their daily resting spot (typically under the bed, but evermore frequently we’re keeping them more accessible to block out sun while we work) and attach them to blackout the windows. We move all of our backpacks from the bed to the floor or one of the front seats. The bench seat and pillows also get moved to the front, and we typically also put up the table, so that the toilet is easier to access in the night. And lastly, after pushing it to the last minute, we lock up Pancake in her cubby so she doesn’t jump on our bed and wake us up. In the morning, everything is reversed.

This last week we had a little reprieve. For five days, we were at a family reunion where I met many of Cameron’s relatives for the first time. I know two months of van life probably did not set me up for the best first impression, but after multiple days of regular showers, washing laundry twice in the same week, and working every day in a strongly air conditioned space, I felt far more presentable. Of course they were all understanding, and mostly impressed and intrigued by our newfound lifestyle. Despite the luxury conditions, I still re-wore the same shirt three days in a row. Perhaps I should start preparing for the likelihood that some of my newfound van habits will stick with me long-term, even after the Goldilocks Project is over.

Got to start off with a glamor shot of the van. This was our boondocking site in Badlands National Park, South Dakota.

Early morning birthday hike to beat the oppressive heat in Theodore Roosevelt National Park, North Dakota. We're trying to integrate hiking into our routine as much as possible.

The daily routine includes replacing our window covers and piling up the pillows. Pancake likes investigating the new configuration. 

Our window covers are black on one side and reflective on the other. We can choose which side faces outside based on how warm we're trying to keep the inside. 

Typically, if we are not under tree cover, we are also setting up the Starlink, our satellite internet connection. We used to only have a ground mount (as seen here), but Cameron recently installed a rooftop fixture for it.

The roof mount still requires reaching outside, but it is more accessible than before and it also gives us consistently better service.

We've attempted multiple methods for keeping Pancake off of the bed, but nothing's worked long-term.

 

It's tempting to let her up there because she can be so darn cute when she's sleeping! She just doesn't stay sleeping through the night. 

An element of van life that I didn't talk about here is laundry. Although typically cumbersome, laundromats can be kind of fun. There's a lot of people watching and typically some arcade-type activities.

This is a pretty standard look for me these days: a non-tank top shirt (to hide my armpit hair) that won't be embarrassing to be seen in if I have an unexpected video call at work, sunglasses around my neck, earrings (also to look more workplace-presentable), and hair pulled back (to camouflage the greasiness). 

No surprise, but another regular part of our routine includes gas station stops. In addition to fueling up, we have to regularly clean the windows (it's buggy out here!) and replenish our diesel exhaust fluid (something that apparently reduces the pollutants from diesel vehicles).  

We try to eat and cook outside as much as possible, but wind, bugs, and heat all affect the feasibility of that.

While staying in the family rental, it was fun to make a multi-course meal (I was able to use the oven and have two burners going at the same time!). In the van, this is bout as gourmet as it gets – huevos rancheros for Cameron's birthday breakfast. 

Despite the constraints, Cameron managed to "bake" himself a birthday cake. He layered up crepes, lemon curd, and Italian merengue.

Some of the mild frustrations about living in the van: not having a place for semi-clean clothes, so they end up on the counter; our cabinet latches not being strong enough, so we have to bungee the drawers closed; and no defined spot for the newly-purchased rabbit tunnel. 

Additionally, we're lazy and often let dishes pile in the sink. We also regularly forget to put the sink cover away before driving, secure the internet router, and find a spot for the tissues and toilet paper.