Hi everyone.
I want to share a story about my van, Zorrito. Specifically about my time with it, and the recent struggle to have it repaired.
This art is a commemoration of how I've come to perceive my van, Zorrito. Crimson Foxy.

In 2020, I bought a GMC Savana with the intent to build a tiny home for travel. It was a dream of mine to be a road-bound hippie with a van. Now I had one to call my own. He was a good one to start. Lights. A shitty power bed. Rubbermaids served as both countertops and storage.

COVID hit everyone hard. I had lost my hateful job with no notice. Building Zorrito became "the project" to keep me occupied and sane. Every little outing came with a small upgrade. A proper bed. Water system. Furnishing. A busy joy in dark times.

In a world where everyone was separated, I could easily take time out of the house. I was able to find solace in quiet forests and springs. Gas was cheap, and I had no job. Why not get lost somewhere? Around then, Zorrito became more than a van to me. He became a companion.

I drove around a bunch. Got into trouble a fair few times. Camped in places as beautiful as they were stupid. I did some damage to my trim while driving on 4x4 road and removed the broken bits in a motel parking lot. A typical misadventure.

My girlfriend became invested in Zorrito as well. We'd done short trips together but wanted a longer one. So, we left in August of 2022 to travel the NorthWest. The whole trip was fantastic. Our hearts belonged on the road. But it ended with a rather sour taste.

A rough road at night became unexpectedly treacherous. Flat dirt turned to uphill, then downhill straight into a pothole. BANG. 1,000 miles from home, but Zorrito still drove, albeit a bit catywompus. I thought it was a bad alignment. I would later find out the real cause.

The shop delivered only bad news. I had bent the frame along the front axle. I would need to get it repaired, and parts were hard to find. I was beyond devastated. 1 month turned to 2, then 3. Finally after 6 months of waiting, Z's frame was fixed. Of course, nothing is simple.

The differential had also been damaged. The parts were yet harder to find. Near impossible, I was told. After multiple specialists, I found the one man, possibly the only mechanic in Colorado, who was capable of doing it right then and there. I nearly pissed myself. A miracle.

On March 13th, 2023, I got Zorrito back. Over half a year had passed since the crash. It still doesn't feel real. Throughout the ordeal, I struggled with self-blame, depression, and acute stress, but learned much about myself through therapy. I felt that I had harmed my friend.

In the end, I found that I was viewing Zorrito as the only option for travel. Though I am thrilled to have him back (I would have it no other way), I understand that this spirit of wanderlust is not inherently tied to one inanimate object. I will always find a way to explore.

For now, I have my friend back. My trusty steed. I am beyond eager to have rubber on the road again. Alaska is the next major destination in my sights. I have no doubt that Zorrito and my bolstered experience will be willing and able to take us there.

A new chapter is opened.

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