Solo Van Life: Crossing into Mexico

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Introduction

Hi, I’m Quinn, and this is my cat, Atlas. For the past three years, we’ve been living the solo van life, crisscrossing the United States and Canada. Winters usually find me snowboarding in the mountains, but after two years of battling the snow, I’ve had enough. This year, I’m shaking things up and heading south to Baja, Mexico, for a warm winter—my first ever. Buckle up, because the last couple of days have been a wild ride of preparation, chaos, and unexpected twists as I gear up for this adventure.

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The Chaos of Packing

Right now, my van is a disaster zone. Picture this: stuff spilling over the passenger seat, random items I haven’t touched in years, and a mess that would make anyone cringe. I’m trying to declutter because I don’t want a packed van crossing the border. There’s gorgeous stuff—like, who wouldn’t love some fire?—but it’s got to go. I’m sorting through everything, deciding what stays and what gets boxed up. My plan? Either store it in a San Diego storage unit for $30 a month or ship it to my dad’s house (sorry, Dad, you’re my unofficial storage unit).

I hauled everything into an Airbnb to sort through the madness. I’ve got piles everywhere: winter gear, nice clothes, valuables, and a mysterious “what even is this?” pile. If you’re like me, you know exactly where everything is in your organized chaos. My Baja essentials are ready, but the rest? It’s either going to storage or back to the van for the trip.

A Change of Plans

Here’s where things get interesting. I’m usually a badass, independent woman living on the road, but crossing into Baja for the first time? Yeah, I’m not doing it alone. The caravan I was supposed to travel with fell apart—turns out, the men are splitting up. So, for the first time in three years, I’m admitting I need to follow a man for this border crossing. Don’t laugh, and don’t call me weak—I’m not. It’s just practical. This realization hit me hard, but I’m rolling with it. Let’s rock and roll, because there’s a lot to do in the next 24 hours.

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The Marathon Day

Today was one of the longest days of my life. I started at 6:00 a.m., and it’s been non-stop. First up: tackling a storage unit. Walking into that place felt like stepping into a horror movie, but it’s done. All the non-essentials that used to burst my van at the seams are now neatly (ish) stored. Check.

Next, a doctor’s appointment. Parking in the city with a van is a nightmare, so I had to valet park in an industrial area—super inconvenient. Then came the lab work. I hate needles, but five vials later, I survived. Starving after fasting for 12 hours, I grabbed some food to keep me going.

After that, it was time to return a mountain of stuff. Amazon packages, random purchases—everything had to go back. I was losing my mind, especially when the hottest guy ever walked by while I was juggling packages at Staples. I forgot to film half of it because I was so exhausted. Trader Joe’s was next, then another trip to the storage unit to drop off more stuff.

The Final Stretch

By 8:22 p.m., I’d checked off every errand. Exhausted but determined, I started the two-hour drive to the Mexicali border, where I planned to sleep in a Walmart parking lot. Atlas and I rolled in at 11:03 p.m., and let me tell you, I was beat. The van was still a mess—my bed was buried under stuff I hadn’t had time to organize. I couldn’t sleep like that, so I spent the last of my energy putting things away while Atlas claimed his spot as the little king of the van.

Looking Ahead

In four hours, we’re crossing into Baja, Mexico. It’s been a whirlwind of stress, errands, and unexpected changes, but Atlas and I are ready for this adventure. A warm winter, new experiences, and the open road await us. Wish us luck—we’re going to need it.

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