Leather for Rubber

5x5 with Megan Okkerse on Walking the Camino de Santiago and Rolling in Vanlife

Walking the Way has been on my (extensive) “someday” list ever since I learned of the Camino de Santiago in 2013 (when I edited The De-Caff Camino, a funny, tender account of the pilgrimage, in this case, by bike). So, I’m delighted to have found a friend (who also happens to be a witty, gifted writer) who can guide me. Megan Okkerse walked Spain’s Camino de Santiago in fall 2022 and writes about it and a whole lot more in the laugh-out-loud, warm, moving Nomadish by

Megan Okkerse

. To launch a new series I’m calling 5x5 (where I and another writer exchange five questions), I asked Megan about walking the Camino, and she asked me about rolling in the van. (Scroll down for a conversation between us on what we learned from the exchange.)

Megan on the Camino de Santiago, fall 2022.

Leather first. Megan on the Camino de Santiago

HS. I’m not entirely new to long walks. But the Camino, at 800 kilometers (500 miles), seems a beast. How did your feet hold up? Your heart and mind? Any tips on shoes, emotions, continuing when you want to stop?

MO. All things considered, my body (and feet) did pretty well on the Camino. I had a shoe store in Boulder help me with orthotics, shoes, and socks. The shoes held up fine until about halfway through the walk and then I ended up using pink KT Tape to hold the soles together (so sexy). When I got to Leon, I bought a new pair of shoes (Altra's...HIGHLY RECOMMEND) and those got me to Santiago and beyond. Every foot is different and I am not much of a guide follower, but the guides did recommend that you break in your shoes for a few weeks before the walk (I did not). Get the right socks, keep your feet dry to prevent blisters, and pack blister care. You will get blisters. I had one on my heel one morning and hopped 5k to the next town where there was a pharmacy that taped me up.

As for my heart and mind, that's a loaded question. The first part of the Camino was very social for me (the breakdown was coming), but about a week in, I separated myself from the packs and really started to go inwards and process what brought me to the Camino in the first place. I had a few days when I really wanted to quit. I stayed in the albergues and co-sleeping with 8-100 people a night, many of whom would snore really started to wear on me, but when I look back on my Camino- that is not what I remember. I remember the bliss I felt certain days when walking, I remember the strangers who became friends, the meals we shared, the conversations and secrets spilled over vino tinto and I remember feeling free. My best advice is to drop your expectations, stay open to each moment and when you want to stop- take a rest day. Treat yourself to a massage, a night in a hotel, and call someone you love at home.

HS. I’ve gathered from your Substack you, like me, are a woman comfy in her own company. Did you walk the Camino alone? Should I take someone with me?

MO. I did walk the Camino alone. I can't imagine doing it any other way. I am more comfortable alone than with others (perhaps something I should work on). I think it's a very personal choice. I met some lovely couples and some people who arrived single and coupled up. I don't think there is a right or wrong way to do it. But I will say that I think it's wise to ask yourself if you are avoiding something by going with someone. Are you scared to be alone or face what would come up in the silence of your own company. The Camino is a great place to work some shit out- those internal dragons- maybe that is best worked out alone or maybe that is best worked out with another. What I think is important is to be honest with yourself.

HS. Some 350,000 people from across the world take on this pilgrimage annually for maybe that many different reasons. To echo the recent witchy osteopath from your almost return to the Way, why did you walk the Camino? Which of the many routes did you take? And how did it change you?

MO. I will answer this as best I can. My spiritual grandmother called me one night and told me to watch the movie, "The Way". I didn't. She called back every night until I did. When I watched it, I sobbed and knew I was meant to walk this path. I didn't know why. I just knew I was answering a call. Looking back, I had been through a lot of trauma (starting in 2016 with the death of my best friend followed by some brutal relationships, and a  pregnancy loss, just to name a few) but I hadn't dealt with it I don't think. I was very much in survival. I walked The Camino Frances or The French Way which starts in the south of France and takes you over The Pyrnees.

I wish I could tell you how it changed me, but I am still in the throws of figuring that out. We might need to circle back to this on a future Q & A.

HS. It’s said St. James’s earthly remains are entombed in the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, the “Field of Stars.” Did any ghosts walk alongside you? Did stars play a role? 

MO. The first voice I heard on The Camino was on day 1 walking over the Pyrnees. It was my dead maternal grandmother telling me that my self-worth issue didn't belong to me. It was inherited from my mothers and aunts. I felt the presence of other people in my life that had passed away (my paternal grandparents, my best friend, and a spiritual mentor). The day that I arrived in Santiago, I was walking with this young French guy and I said to him, "Do you feel that? I can feel the energy of the apostles/disciples that walked this decades ago." He probably thought I was nuts, but that's ok. Most of the time, I thought I was too. Santiago is a whole vibe, but not in the influencer sense. I can't explain it, but I will say that no matter your spiritual beliefs, it is hard to deny the feeling and energy of ghosts or spirits in that city. Body chills just thinking about it.

HS. What have I missed? What would you most want me to know before I took the plunge and journeyed to Galicia?

MO. I would say to not stress too much about preparation. I am in these Camino Facebook groups and see people wigging out about what to pack and which brand is the best, etc. In my opinion, giving too much importance to these details can deter from the meaning of the Camino. The Camino is a million different things to a million different people, but I believe it is an invitation to keep it simple and get back to what really matters in life. The sacred ancient path is an opportunity to go inward and experience something unlike modern day life...but we have to do our part by being willing to travel lightly.

So, my biggest piece of advice would be to travel light...in every sense of the word.

Me and Ruby the van near Quartzite, Arizona, USA, January 2020.

The rubber. Megan asks me about living in a van full time

MO. What made you decide on Van Life?

HS.  I’ve heard the call to roam since I was a kid, hiking the vermilion mountains of southern Utah, pretending I lived among them. My ex and I should have known that made us a mismatch. But we delighted each other. When we parted ways in 2004, I moved into a 26-foot Chevy Leprechaun motorhome with pink shag carpet to wait out our divorce before getting on the road. Intimidated and drained, I abandoned the Leprechaun after a handful of months.

For a long time, I saw that as defeat. In a way, I saw even other nomadic spells, like half a year in a Toyota pickup, a seven-month walkabout of the US East Coast, a couple months in Ecuador as failure to launch. I’m now beginning to understand those periods, alongside non-nomadic periods as one and the same, which is to say life.

To get back to the question, I was aching for the road after a long period in Santa Barbara, California (among chosen family). When the van I dreamed of hadn’t come along by early 2019, I decided to set out anyway. I subleased my apartment and loaded my bike and backpacking gear onto a train. After hitting the desert with canyoneering buddies, James and Kevin, I set off solo on my bike to meander down the Oregon coast. A few weeks later, my friend Mike in Ashland called. “I think I found the van you’re looking for,” he said, his tone pure grin. He was right.

MO. What has been the greatest challenge and joy of Van Life?

HS. It’s hard to choose greatest of either. I made a cheesy YouTube video about that. I’ll try and give you a better answer. Join me on an empty stretch of road that winds its silver tongue through umber fields. Listen. In my rearview mirror, my candy apple red tea kettle click-click-clicks on the stovetop it’s bungeed to. My fridge, filled with fresh veggies and cheese and whatever beer or wine caught my eye, whirs, wires stretching up and out to the solar panels friends helped me install. In the windowsill (or, if it’s early Ruby days, hanging, alongside mesh bags of grapefruits, onions, and garlic), my houseplants vibrate. The door of the indoor/outdoor kitchen—built by a cabinetmaker friend from wood repurposed from my old landlord’s bathroom—slides and snaps closed around a bend. The crystals in my window that spill rainbows across my bed and desk tat-tat tat new facets into each other. This song has been the greatest joy. 

What can I say of challenges? I could talk about soaring or dipping temperatures, mice slipping through my vents, and loneliness. I think the biggest challenge was enduring moments when I felt inadequate to the task of this life I’d chosen, silly and ill prepared. Self-doubt can hit you from multiple angles. There's the doubt itself and then the shame about the doubt. Both can be a little brutal.

MO. Do you have a van life community you have met while living on the road?

HS. I won’t name names. I couldn’t possibly name everyone. But I’ll say this. I don’t have adequate words to describe how the people I’ve met while roaming—both friends who’ve become road family and characters I may never see again—have flavored and enriched my life. Social media, for all its shittiness, enables me to follow many who are living in motion, being shaped by the versatility required of life on the road. (I’m in the early stages of prepping for a series of interviews through which I hope to profile some of these amazing folks.)

MO. Tell us about Ruby. 

HS. Ruby! She’s an oldie but a goodie. She stopped telling me her miles some number of miles I wouldn't say if I could down the road. She's never had AC, and more than one mechanic has told me she never will—even before I broke the AC pipr under the chassis playing frogger with ruts on either this road / watercolor painting from Denali, Alaska, to Wrangell-St. Elias (Alaska’s lesser known but no less breathtaking park) or the road into St. Elias marked with a kindly worded warning not to go any further. Or both. (I zip-tied the broken pipe up with a sigh of relief when I determined which pipe it was hanging from her bottom.) I (or a mechanic I like in the middle or Oregon, more accurately) had to jury-rig wires bypassing the vent system so, on cold days, hot air from the engine can be piped into the cab with a toggle switch. She’s a sieve, letting sand and wind and rain in through spots I’ve patched and spots I haven’t.

In other words, Ruby’s fabulous. With the help of the good people I’ve met and the ones who were already in my life, I’ve built her into home and hearth. I bought her for $1,500 cash, thinking she'd be just a test to see if I liked the van life before I moved on to a bigger investment. Now, I’m in love. (And a lot of building investment in.) Parting ways will be difficult.

MO. What is a day in the life of yours as a Van Lifer (is that a word)?

HS. Vanlifer is for sure a word in my vocab. As for a day in the life, that’s easy. There’s no such thing. That's the beauty. Every day brings new vistas, new challenges, new choices.

And our follow-up convo

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This exchange between Megan and me is the first in a series called 5x5. Discovering brilliant minds, hearts, and voices has been a love of mine since I started devouring books as a tween. How easy it is to connect with writers whose work I love on Substack is magic. I’m looking forward to sharing with you more writers I love and think you may love too by way of delving into something they’re sharing through their writing. (If you wanna a do a 5x5 [writer or not, Substacker or not], let me know! I’m always down for an exchange.)

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