Sprintered
There seems to be a new phenomenon that I missed seeing coming until now. A colleague explained that he was being picked up for a meeting in some heavyweight’s newest toy, a commuter Sprinter van. The Sprinter is a van that has a higher profile and comes in several lengths. It is made by Mercedes, so it is the top of the line van. I have done some online research and I now see that converting these vans into comfortable interiors to suit specific needs is all the rage. These things are being made into on-the-ground versions of corporate jets by some, with fancy desks and built-ins, big-screen flat-screen TV’s, bathrooms, kitchens and real party vehicles. They are also being made into adventure vehicles and campers, both day campers and overnight campers.
Following the small house trend (something I find very curious and fun, but cannot imagine living with), think of these as mini-RV’s. A Sprinter van drives and maneuvers more like a car than a bus and as such, is more versatile and more affordable to allow people to let their imaginations run wild. Some are just about being comfortable places to hang our when you drive around, and some are like mini toy-haulers, outfitted to accommodate mountain bikes or even ATV’s and off-road motorcycles. It is fascinating to me to browse through the websites that offer Sprinter van conversions and see all the options one can put into one of these things. It naturally gets me to wondering if I need one.
I have rented an RV twice in my life. The first time was ill-fated in that the damn thing broke down after 50 miles on the New York State Thruway heading north. We had neatly packed our clothes and vacation paraphernalia into the various nooks and crannies of the smallish RV and when it broke down and needed to be towed, we were forced to unceremoniously throw all our junk into the back of a rented truck (remember, we had foregone any suitcases in our packing exercise). It was a swing-and-miss vacation attempt that ended with a quickly and expensively organized vacation in available motels rather than comfortable RV.
The second time involved a rented RV through the Blue Ridge Mountains with another couple and their kids. Being a single father at the time, I was odd man out so wherever we went (mostly RV parks), I got to stay in a rented hot-box cabin while the kids and the other couple were in the lap of RV luxury. This causes me to comment on RV parks in the USA. They are, from my experience, all like that camping place in National Lampoon’s Vacation where Chevy Chase and Aunt Edna stay in the smelly tents and the kids try swimming in the cesspool of a swimming pool. An RV campground bathroom is one of the great biological experiments of all time. I would rather go into the Port Authority bathroom on 42nd Street than an RV campground bathroom.
And then if you want to lock in my impression of anything resembling RV adventures, watch Robin William’s RV movie and focus on the scene where he must empty the sewage system of the vehicle. It is not a pretty sight and an even less pretty task.
That makes me wonder about what I would use a converted Sprinter van to do. I guess if I was still a commuter, being driven in a mobile office might be cool, but you must love what you do and where you live enough to deal with the moving office concept. If you’ve ever tried to read in a moving car, you are probably as dubious as I am about the viability of this approach. Focusing your eyes on a computer screen (no matter how big it might be) in stop-and-go traffic must be a treat.
So, let’s see, camping in a Sprinter seems more out than in (how many beaches or lakes can you really pull up to and just park beside for the night?). Commuting in a Sprinter seems cool in concept, but there is probably too much Dramamine involved. That leaves what I think of as day-tripping. I am unlikely to haul my toys, since my toy of choice is large touring motorcycle and that would take up the whole van. So, I guess I would spend $120-150k to outfit a Sprinter with a comfy sofa and kitchenette (fridge and microwave only so I didn’t need water waste). Maybe a fold-out day bed for a nap. I wouldn’t bother with a bathroom since I can imagine my wife and I arguing about who cleans it out and we would have left the cleaning lady at home. We will just use roadside bathrooms, which aren’t so bad since you can pull a “Texaco Station” and just drive away from it all when needed.
What is the value of a Sprinter day-room? We will still be looking for nice hotels/motels/friends to stay at. We will still take the majority of our meals at restaurants. Safety dictates that whoever is not driving will want to be strapped in (including the dog), so the ease of moving about the moving vehicle is limited. In reality, this becomes a parking lot daybed and a mobile closet. I’m not feeling the love and believe I have talked myself out of it. What really talks me out of it is the vision of the for-sale sign on the vehicle when I get tired of it. I know the buyers will say it is worth less to them since it doesn’t have this or that or I nicked this or that on the corner. I sense that it will get marked down by half in a year and I will have to write another story about the financial hosing I took by buying a customized Sprinter van. It will rank up there with the Chris Craft lake boat I bought for two seasons and the long-lost treadmill that never got used.
I already own a customized trailer for motorcycles that sits in my brother-in-law’s warehouse and gets used every eighteen months. The amortized cost of that puppy should be evidence alone that these ideas need to be very thoroughly considered and rejected as often as possible.
That all said, I’m betting that if I run across a really neat Sprinter van outfitted exactly like I would like, I will be overwhelmed by visions of sitting comfortably in it beside a river, lake or beach and pitying those poor slobs with coolers and umbrellas. Don’t count me out of the Sprinter van dreams too fast. Logic is never as compelling as dreaming.
Dear Spriter-to-be (?),
All too often we buy things with the best of intentions only to find that the ones we wanted to share them with are not on the same neural wavelength. Been there too often.
I am actually replying to recount a story in the news from many years ago about some very out of the box thinking entrepreneurs (or, to be slightly crude, in the box). They set up a unique commuter van service. The driver drove while one commuter and a female companion shared a mattress in the back. I can think of many less enjoyable ways to get stuck in traffic . I’m sorry but I couldn’t resist that terrible pun. Well the authorities found out and quickly threw a wet blanket on the operation. God, my puns are deteriorating. The story didn’t report whether a car chase ensued but it certainly would have been interesting for the couple in back. Again, I only recounted this because it was very amusing to me and I hope to you.
Although, upon reflection, it does bring up a potential business venture variation on that idea. Now that marijuana is ‘legal’ (?), you could offer a ‘smoking car’. Something that trains used to have but meaning cigarettes and cigars. To offer the service on the way to work would definitely be problematic since productivity could suffer and I don’t think snack food crumbs would be good for your computer. On the way home however, it could save that extra stop at the bar for a night-cap. Whatever fight you may have had with the spouse that morning would probably be mitigated or lost entirely in your mellow mood. I wager there could be countless positive results. Divorce lawyers may be against it but who really cares that much about them.
Do I have any takers?
Sincerely and tongue mostly in cheek, Lonny. AKA John’s Father
Interesting….