“Am I okay? Am I okay? Am I okay?”
I was dangling 120 feet in the air, on the side of a cliff, deep in the forests of North Carolina. My eyes blurred with tears. My breath came in shallow gasps. Below me, voices shouted back: “Yes, you’re okay!”
That was 25 years ago, the week before my wedding. I have an irrational fear of heights and it was my first rappelling experience.
No one forced me over a cliff. But, considering my impending nuptials and being surrounded by my soon-to-be husband, his dad, and three brothers, I had to borrow their confidence, lean into the peer pressure, and take the leap.
Fast forward a quarter-century. For our anniversary, we wanted to honor that spirit of adventure, but with more comfort, good food, and financial sanity (early retirement, here we come!). We skipped the tropical getaway and rented a VanCraft campervan instead.
We didn’t plan much. We tossed groceries in the fridge, loaded the spacious garage with gear, buckled in our two dogs, and hit the road.
“Where are we going?” My husband asked from the Captain’s chair.
“No Idea,” I grinned. “Just drive.”
Ghost Town Dust & Forest Showers
That first night, I wasn’t sure how cooking a meal or sleeping in the van would work with all four of us packed inside, but it quickly felt easy and natural. We parked at Clark Canyon Reservoir in western Montana, grilled bacon cheeseburgers in the van’s kitchen, and watched the dogs chase bugs as the sun went down.
The next morning, adventure called. We wandered into Bannack Ghost Town, Montana’s first capital and now a preserved town of creaky boardwalks and abandoned schoolhouses. It was quirky and historic — and dusty. For hours afterward, my allergies were out of control. Still, walking those empty streets felt like stepping into a sepia-toned photograph.
By evening, we’d found our way to Three Frogs Campground at Lake Como, tucked in a shady pine forest. That night, we pulled out our pop-up shower closet and turned on the van’s built-in hot shower for the first time. After a day of sneezing and sweating, it felt absolutely luxurious.
Cold Ice Cream & Hot Springs
Day three brought one of those unplanned delights you could never script: finding the world’s best ice cream tucked inside a gas station in Darby, Montana. Behind the counter sat tubs of Wilcoxson’s, a Montana classic. We devoured cones of “Stuck in a Rut” flavor and laughed about how often the simplest pit stops become the most memorable.
That night, we pulled into Challis Hot Springs, a family-run campground along the Salmon River. We cooked steak tacos, built our first campfire of the trip, roasted s’mores, and ended up belting camp songs under the stars. Before bed, we slow-danced to our wedding song, Amazed by Lonestar.
The next morning, I slipped into a hot spring for the very first time. It was beautiful, with smooth multi-colored stones lining the floor and sides, and also a little gross (it doubles as a graveyard for about a million bugs). But it was unforgettable.
Big & Tiny Pit Stops
Heading south again, we couldn’t resist a quirky detour: the EBR-I Atomic Museum outside Arco, Idaho. In 1951, this was the site of the world’s first nuclear power plant to generate usable electricity — enough to power four lightbulbs at first. The experiment was eventually shut down, but standing in front of the massive reactors, we couldn’t help but marvel at how short-lived projects can still open the door to big breakthroughs.
Not long after, we spotted the “Welcome to Moore” sign, population 189. The kind of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it town that makes for the perfect road trip photo op.
A little further down the road, we pulled over at the Idaho Potato Museum, where you can photograph a giant spud and, yes, get potato-flavored ice cream. It was the perfect bookend to a trip full of unexpected finds.
The Real Takeaway
Looking back, the meals and the miles blur together. What stands out are the moments we didn’t plan: sneezing in a ghost town, showering under the pines, finding the world’s best ice cream in a gas station, soaking in a bug-speckled hot spring, singing camp songs like kids.
That’s the gift of traveling in a VanCraft campervan. It’s not just the comfort of the bed or the convenience of the fridge. It’s the freedom to say: “Just drive” and trust that the road will hand you stories worth telling.
Twenty-five years ago, I went over a cliff and surprised myself by saying, “I want to go again.”
This trip felt the same. Dusty, messy, joyful, and real. And the best part? We can’t wait to go again.
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