Since forever, vans have carried a lot of baggage. More specifically, connotations of sex, drugs, abductions, and homelessness on wheels (or cinder blocks). “All I need is in my van, man,” said someone likely named Freebird. Recall the old bumper sticker If this van’s a-rockin, don’t come a-knockin’? Or that other one: Don’t Laugh, Your Daughter May Be in Here.
There’s hardly a stigma anymore. Driven by millennial aspirants, burned out at desk jobs and seeking the open road and some sort of post-coronavirus joie de vivre, the van has become a new status symbol. (After all, a $267,230 R.V. is so very Clarence Thomas.) And it doesn’t just sit there and look pretty. It roams.
The blazer of the holy trail is the Mercedes-Benz Sprinter, starting at about $55,000 and running upward of $300,000. (Its growing fleet of American competitors includes the Ford Transit, the Dodge Ram ProMaster, and the Detroit-based Drifter Vans.) Personalized customizations and modifications are practically a given, and that has created its own cottage industry. To list them would be exhausting, as it were.
To some, they look like souped-up U.P.S. trucks. But today’s Sprinters are classy and comfort-conscious: some have fancy wood paneling, ovens, heated floors, full-service bathrooms, bunks, rooftop lounges—everything but a Jacuzzi. For that, go to a resort in Twentynine Palms.
Thirty-three-year-old Hillary Clinton (no, not the former First Lady) has been going to Burning Man for a decade. This year, she stayed in a luxury tour bus, but Sprinters were dotting the grounds. “People bring their kids there now,” says Clinton, a talent manager based in Los Angeles. “The majority are in their 30s and 40s, and they prepare for the worst.”
According to Mercedes-Benz spokesperson Cathleen Decker, the company sold 411,000 Sprinters last year, the majority in North America. In the second quarter of 2023, it sold an additional 119,500 vans.
A bare-bones model of the Cargo Sprinter MY24 starts at $49,900, not including drop-off fees and other assorted charges. But almost all buyers—80 percent—make use of Mercedes-Benz’s customization service, eXpertUpfitter, which can add hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of upgrade.
The Mercedes spokeswoman declined to elaborate on Sprinter’s miles-per-gallon statistics, carbon sandal prints, and buyer demographics. (Mercedes-Benz is debuting an all-electric Sprinter in 2024.) She did refer us to “a wide variety of Instagram #vanlife moments.” And they are legion.
“All I need is in my van, man,” said someone likely named Freebird.
Henry Friedman, who operates an animal-rescue operation, has become one of #vanlife’s most visible influencers. He’s often accompanied by his dog, Finn, a street mutt, or sato, as they are called in Puerto Rico. To earn a living, he creates sponsored posts for PetSmart and Chewy, and also raises money for dog rescue through Patreon.
When reached by phone in an Airbnb in Portland, Oregon, the 33-year-old entrepreneur, who once worked in advertising in New York, was planning the next day to leave by plane (not Sprinter) for Maui to help the canine homeless wandering after the wildfires.
That’s where he found his Sprinter companion five years ago. “Having a dog with you when traveling is a game changer,” he says. “It makes you more wholesome, and not just some van guy.”
Having grown up in the affluent Main Line suburbs of Philadelphia, he knows the stigma of the van, any van. “On the East Coast, if a van parks on your street it spells ‘ice-cream-truck murderer,’” he says. “There is a fear factor. ‘Get that thing away!’”
He explains that, for now, van culture is largely a West Coast phenomenon, because the Eastern Seaboard lacks public spaces where they can be parked for free. “In the West, vans are often a status symbol,” he says. Men (in particular) crowd around his tricked-out 2020 model, he says, “as if it were the latest Porsche.” Even though his Sprinter has special emission controls and solar panels, it gets only 15 miles per gallon.
Massachusetts native Peter Collins, 34, took home his first Sprinter earlier this fall after waiting several months for modifications. The onetime venture capitalist, who also held top-level positions at health-care tech firms, says he “needed” it. “Even my father knew I was burned out working seven days a week,” he says. About four years ago, he and his father went on a road trip to Utah’s Valley of the Gods, among other destinations, in his Toyota Tacoma camper-fit. After being bought out of his partnerships in high-paying jobs, Collins traveled everywhere in the Tacoma, hiking and camping.
“I had the finances, so I pulled the trigger,” he says. The cost for his new ride: about $219,000, including $140,000 in customizations. He may not have sprung for so many bells and whistles, he says, but he planned to travel with his girlfriend. They split up before the Sprinter was delivered, but he kept going. “I can now go fly-fishing or mountain biking with not a soul around me,” he says.
While there are no demographics to prove it, the consensus is that mostly males buy into this lifestyle. Yet there are women who take to it, too.
Sydney Ferbrache, 28, a social-media marketer from Indianapolis, acts as an influencer for companies such as L.L. Bean. She owns an all-wheel 2022 Ford Transit van camper with outdoor shower, workspace, and king-size bed. (Her husband, Sprinter owner Henry Friedman, is six foot three.)
“We are both very passionate about which van is better,” she says. She bought hers for $75,000, but the build-out cost an additional $100,000. It is baby blue—more specifically, “divine” colored—and was purchased over a year ago. Because she doesn’t own or rent a home, her only overhead is a student loan.
“Despite that my father was a blue-collar fireman and my mother worked in retail, my parents have been very supportive of my roving lifestyle. Now they are my number-one van fans,” she says.
Sure, she has her druthers. “You are constantly moving, looking for your next place to sleep if you are sick and exhausted or hungover,” she says. “I miss taking baths. It’s the small things, like having a door to close in your office.”
But the popularity of Van Life shows no signs of slowing. Collins has lots of upcoming plans for his Sprinter, but when the cash runs thin, he has a plan: to rent it out on Mobile Airbnb.
Steve Garbarino, the former editor of BlackBook magazine, began his career as a staff writer for The Times-Picayune. Once again based in New Orleans, he now contributes to The Wall Street Journal and New York and is the author of A Fitzgerald Companion