A Boy and His Van: Cutting Scary Big Holes

The past few weeks have been beastly humid and hot here in southern Minnesota, not particularly conducive to doing work on a van that sits in the sun in our driveway most of the day before the house shades the rig late in the afternoon. Because of that, I’ve mostly been planning the electrical and plumbing systems and propping up the American economy by madly ordering components online and saving big money at Menards. Virtually all the money that’s going to be spent on this project has now been spent. Our savings account is a bit depleted, and FedEx and Amazon deliveries are showing up nearly daily with weird and esoteric van parts. Seven-gallon electric water heater! LED puck lights! and on and on. Mostly I’m experiencing much eagerness to get this dang van built out and exploring the beautiful world!

 

Some serious tangible progress has been made when the weather has allowed. Last weekend I ventured onto the roof of the rig when the sun disappeared behind our house and started making holes, small to middling large. I first installed a state-of-the-art Maxxair Maxxfan Deluxe 7500 (10 speeds, exhaust or intake, all remote controlled from the comfort of one’s bed or chair). I was planning to install a bit less pricey Maxxair model, but van build components have pretty much dried up, and the less spendy models were backordered and would not have been available for a month or two. (I guess I’m unwittingly part of a pandemic trend, as reported in the New York Times on July 3^rd -- “The #Vanlife Business Is Booming”).

Fan installation required cutting a 14” by 14” hole in the roof, which was good practice for the window installations which happened later in the week. All went well with the exhaust fan, and it’s now waiting to be wired in after insulation is complete and the balance of the electrical system can be installed in a week or two.

Only small holes were needed for the electrical cables from the two 100-watt solar panels I next installed on the roof. The PV panel brackets had to be screwed into the roof, so van shell penetrations are now being made in earnest.

I’m using high-quality specialty sealant which I hope will mean no leakage. Time and a few good rain storms will tell. 

 

This was all preparation for the really big show, installing two windows, which happened Friday, when the weather finally cooperated (i.e. less than Hades-worthy dewpoint and no likelihood of rain). I’d watched several how-to YouTube videos, read and reread the manufacturer’s instructions, and was guardedly optimistic that I wouldn’t absolutely ruin the van by fucking up the LARGE holes I had to cut in the van side door and driver-side wall. 

 

The beautiful windows, manufactured by Peninsula Glass of Vancouver, Washington, came with good instructions but no templates for cutting holes of precisely the right size and shape in the van, which is a kinda important part of the process. I was a bit irked by this, but tracing out templates on cardboard required attention to detail but was not particularly difficult. Tracing around the templates on the inside of the passenger-side cargo door, where one of the windows was going, again required attention to detail (correct positioning, level, etc.), but wasn’t what really caused me to sweat. The point of no return was drilling pilot holes for the curved corners,

tracing out the rest of the cut on the exterior of the door, firing up the angle grinder to GRIND BIG STARTER HOLES THROUGH THE DOOR, and then carefully, carefully, cutting out the entire hole with a jigsaw (using a 36-tooth-per-inch metal-cutting blade).

 

(I have to take a brief digression here to explain the depths of Anne’s entirely justified skepticism about my abilities to successfully pull off this and the other somewhat challenging elements of the van build. I would be the first to admit that I don’t have mad handyman skills. I’ve done some semi-ambitious home improvement projects, such as insulating our attic, dense-packing our stucco sidewalls with cellulose, insulating our basement with 2” extruded polystyrene, building a greenhouse and woodshed  with mostly scrounged materials, and converting our garage into an insulated, wired, and heated honey-processing space during my brief and unsuccessful career as a beekeeper, but none of this required skilled labor, and the results, while functional, don’t demonstrate extreme craftsmanship. I’m not a perfectionist, but I’m capable of learning and getting things done when I want to. Which isn’t often. End of digression.)

 

After sweating through cutting out the first window hole, the moment of truth had arrived. With much trepidation, I took the window to the hole to see whether it fit properly into the opening… and it did! It didn’t fall through a too-big hole, which would have been an irremediable calamity. It didn’t even hang up on any of the tiny wobbles in my less-than-perfect jigsaw cutting job.

Jubilation! Exultation!

 

I next had Anne come out of her hiding place, where she had no doubt been fearing that I was in the process of rendering our van worthless, and assist me with final positioning and secure installation of the window with sealant and screws. My t-shirt was soaked through with sweat by the time I finished, mostly because of the high anxiety of the process. 

 

After taking a break for lunch and rehydration, the second window went in without much fuss, as I was now feeling pretty much like an expert van window installer. I may go into business as a van window installer! Skillz! I’m rewarding myself with an early happy-hour gin and tonic, and no one can stop me.

 

I will bask in the satisfaction of successfully completing this potentially catastrophic step for a day or two, but the next learning opportunity looms. As soon as Sunday, I plan to slip into a Tyvek suit, don nitrile gloves and a respirator, and insulate the van’s walls and ceiling with two-part spray foam. Not nearly as much potential for disaster, but it could be a mess. Stay tuned!