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- I Sold My Teardrop Trailer—The Shocking Reason I Chose Car Life Instead
I Sold My Teardrop Trailer—The Shocking Reason I Chose Car Life Instead
How downsizing even further unlocked true freedom, saved me money, and gave me a new sense of adventure.
Ark
July 22, 2025
My Year in a Teardrop Trailer and Why I Switched to Car Living
For an entire year, my home was a compact 6-foot teardrop trailer—a cozy, mobile haven that served me well on an epic journey across the country. It was equipped with everything I needed: ample sleeping and storage space, a solar panel mounted on the roof, a road shower, large bins on the tongue for gear, and a spacious galley area in the back for cooking. It was fantastic, truly. But after a year, I made a surprising decision: I sold it to live full-time in something even smaller—my car.
Why Trade More Space for Less?
The teardrop trailer was my first foray into nomadic living. I’d never lived in an RV or a tiny home or spent much time in remote places alone. I bought the teardrop with one goal: to travel the country for a year. Having quit my job to make this dream a reality, I wanted something that offered comfort and space while I explored remote, beautiful places. The teardrop delivered that perfectly.
But after a year, I realized one year of travel wasn’t enough. I wanted to keep going. This decision came with a catch: I needed to work remotely to sustain my travels. Remote work meant spending more time in cities, relying on public Wi-Fi at coffee shops or libraries. This shift in lifestyle prompted me to rethink my setup. The teardrop, while compact, wasn’t ideal for city living.
The Challenges of Urban Stealth Camping
In cities, I’d need to practice stealth camping—sleeping overnight in inconspicuous spots like street parking or near closed businesses. A teardrop trailer, even a small one, draws attention. It’s not just another car on the street; it stands out. My trailer required two parking spaces—one for the car and one for the trailer—making it tough to find suitable spots in crowded urban areas or parking garages. A car alone blends in far better and requires only one parking space.
The teardrop also posed challenges beyond cities. Narrow, winding dirt roads in remote areas were tricky to navigate with a trailer in tow. I had to constantly assess whether my car and trailer could handle the terrain or if there was enough space to turn around. Some national parks, state parks, or backroads outright prohibit trailers, forcing me to find safe places to park the trailer while exploring. These limitations made me question what the teardrop offered that my car couldn’t.
The Teardrop’s Limitations
My teardrop was essentially a bed on wheels. I cooked outside, showered outside, and used restrooms outside—just like I would in a car. The extra storage was nice, but not essential. I realized I could adapt my car to meet my needs with minimal effort. Steep hills were another concern. I’ll never forget driving through San Francisco, approaching a steep incline with a stoplight at the top. I prayed it wouldn’t turn red, knowing my car’s limited torque would struggle to start on a hill with 1,500 pounds of trailer behind it.
Moreover, my teardrop wasn’t built for full-time living. It was designed for weekend camping or short road trips, ideally at established campgrounds with paved roads and power hookups. Constant travel on bumpy, narrow dirt roads took a toll, causing wear and tear. Unlike some trailers with better suspensions or articulating couplers (which allow the car and trailer to move independently over uneven terrain), mine wasn’t equipped for rugged, off-grid adventures. The stress on the hitch point and the trailer’s frame was noticeable.
Embracing the Flexibility of Car Living
As I planned to travel full-time for years, I prioritized flexibility. A car alone is nimble, able to navigate narrow streets, parking garages, and tight spaces without issue. I’ve done seven-point turns on narrow roads—something impossible with a trailer. I asked myself again, what does the teardrop offer that my car doesn’t? The answer was clear: nothing significant. I could set up a bed, cooking area, and storage in my car with ease.
Do I Miss the Teardrop?
People often ask, “Do you miss your teardrop?” and “Why did you sell it?” The answers are simple: no, I don’t miss it, and I sold it for versatility. Living in my car has given me the freedom to explore both cities and remote areas without the constraints of towing a trailer. It’s been 13 months since I made the switch, and I haven’t looked back.
