
Introduction
Who knew chasing a dream would entail renovating a bus to be my home and mobile studio? From daily mechanical disasters to a Home Depot bucket toilet, living a life of luxury has been far from my reality as I tackle producing, directing, and creating my first documentary, Before We Could Drink.
The past 90 days on the road have made me reflect on the assumptions I had about this being a roll-out-of-bed venture. In the beginning, I found myself up at four in the morning, routinely convincing myself I could find more hours in the day to complete the bus build in time. I learned quickly what it really meant to put blood, sweat, and tears into something. Remnants of my husband’s DNA, and others’, peppered the bus as we hacked, sawed, and nailed my little home together. Sweat was our closest companion as it rolled down our bodies, thanks to the unforgiving summers in Washington, D.C. Tears, meanwhile, became a weekly ritual—the moments that reminded me I was alive and fully dedicated to the decision I made.
Yeah…
I’d say that this endeavor isn’t for the lighthearted. But if you’re tired of playing it safe or putting your ideas on the back burner, then you’re in the right place to see if this is something you’d like to do (because in the end, it’s about you, not what others think you should be doing).
As a wife, dog mom, business owner, and constant people-pleaser, I had whittled down a life of routine and safety. I’ve always considered myself a spontaneous human, but as I was approaching thirty, adventures seemed far-fetched.
“It’s just not the right time,” I’d say, “maybe next year.”
But when I took some time away from the city, social media, and my routines, it gave me a newfound freedom to invest in my ideas.
With no prior experience in building anything—let alone hanging a picture frame without my husband side-eyeing me—I knew one of the hardest parts of this project would be renovating the bus.
My Kentucky-based bus is about 23 feet long, with just enough height for your shortest tall person. With tinted windows and its seats already taken out, we felt ahead of the game—but plan for things to take twice as long to complete. Nothing was leveled and everything had a curve, which made customizing the bus a nightmare for the two of us.
Why not a plane? The costs of flights, hotels, and checked luggage, and the pandemic still looming over all our shoulders, made this tin-can-on-wheels the better option to execute this project. To get the bare minimum to make this a reality, I needed storage, a charging station, and production-ready aesthetics. The bus had to be my one-stop-shop that equipped me with the convenience of accessing everything important under one roof.
Storage
With my co-pilot Jen on the trip, enough storage for two people on the bus was necessary. The beds on the bus were multipurpose, so they also served as our sitting areas and storage units. Initially, I wanted to strap all my equipment to the walls, making it easier to take items down to use for filming and photos. You can imagine how my heart sank when those items catapulted across the bus upon pressing the brakes.
Additionally, with curious humans in mind, being able to see the equipment from outside of the bus was asking for a break-in. In each storage bin there were lights fastened to the walls, so in the evenings it’s easier to see inside. What I wish I had time to install were piston arms for the lids so I didn’t have to use my head to keep them open. The majority of the gear was kept in Peak Design bags, which made storing the camera gear a breeze.
Charging Station
If I could do anything differently, it would be to make my entire bus a pegboard. I never imagined that this would be the only thing on the bus that hasn’t snapped, fallen, or disappointed. The board was secured with screws that were elevated from plywood walls. Baskets hung with our go-to items like plugs, batteries, cords, and accessories. I used hook-and-loop fasteners on the surge protector and battery stations for each item that needed it, which made rebooting batteries incredibly convenient. A flip of the switch and those puppies were running.
I wouldn’t have been able to power everything I needed without Battle Born Batteries, who equipped our bus with two batteries, an inverter, and solar panels. Though we’ve had moments where the bus couldn’t start because we left too much running at once, I’ve learned how to conserve and get the best out of what I have.
Production-Ready Aesthetics
I opted for less overhead storage space to ensure that the bus didn’t feel crowded. With a second person on board, I didn’t want us to feel squished. Aside from wanting it to feel like home, I needed to make sure we could shoot inside our makeshift studio in a way that was attractive and functional.
White was used initially for the ceiling as a bounce in case we needed to shoot at night and point our lights up. We continued to use white throughout the inside of the bus, not only as a time saver, but because it made the space look a little bigger. Our dining table was not only our office desk, but also a space where we could host our interviews. But with the lack of A/C on the bus and the rookie mistake of not measuring the width of the table, we had to secure our Shure SM7B Microphones that came in the Zoom Podcast Kit in various places, including our shelves.

The slatted wall separated our driving area from the rest of the room, which made it feel like we had our own private work area to avoid overexposure from our front window. Light linen curtains were strung through the space to diffuse some light, but they were also soft enough to flow in the wind if we wanted movement in our shots. Each little knob and knickknack had a purpose and made the bus feel curated and intentional.
Lessons Learned
Living minimally has enhanced my appreciation for creating from what was at an arm’s reach. I didn’t need a million clothes or every piece of equipment. I just needed the time and space to create without external distractions. The bus experience is not glorious. Though we had many supporters who helped kickstart this project financially, I still could have budgeted better to make this less stressful. What took me more than a month to learn was to let go and recognize when I couldn’t force a moment. I needed to manage my expectations when it came to creating something perfectly.
Did I wish I didn’t have to use a foot pump for water or not eat canned soup every day? Of course. But as I settle back into the city, I’m reflecting on all the incredibly fulfilling conversations I’ve had with people from this project who made the challenges worth it. Even if building a bus or van and taking it cross country is not your thing, what’s important is to not hesitate to say yes to an idea or dream you want to pursue. It’s either one day or day one, and you have the power to make that decision.
Be sure to check back for new episodes of Before We Could Drink here on Explora!
2 Comments
Interesting. One note however. In the second to last photo, those look like SM7Bs, not zoom podcast mics.
Doh! I was using the Zoom Podcast Kit so just accidentally clumped it together. You know your stuff! Thanks for reading about the project!
LiveTrak L-8 Portable 8-Channel Digital Mixer and Multitrack Recorder
SM7B Vocal Microphone
SRH240A Closed-Back Over-Ear Headphones
Good catch, JC! Thanks for pointing this out. We have made the appropriate edits.