Instagram has romanticized “Van Life” into an aesthetic of clean linens, coffee by the ocean, and perfectly organized gear. A real skate tour is the exact opposite. It is a test of endurance, hygiene, and patience. It is five people crammed into a Ford Econoline that smells like wet pads and fast food, driving six hours to a spot that turns out to be a bust.
The Hierarchy of the Bench Space is the ultimate currency in the van. The “bench hierarchy” is real. The driver controls the music (no exceptions). The co-pilot handles the GPS and the snacks. The back bench is for sleeping, but it’s also the “gear void” where loose trucks and sweaty shirts migrate. If you are the rookie (the “grom”), you are sitting on the wheel well or the cooler. You earn your seat by filming the second angle or fixing the flat tire.
The Spot Search The reality of a tour is that 60% of the time is spent driving, 30% is spent getting kicked out of spots, and 10% is spent actually skating. You drive three hours to a legendary ditch you saw in a video, only to find it fenced off or filled with water. This disappointment is part of the process. It forces you to improvise—to skate the curb cut in the parking lot next door or find a new spot that isn’t on the map.
The Bond Despite the smell, the cramped legs, and the security guards, the van tour is the glue that holds a crew together. There is a specific bond formed when you are stranded in a random town in Nebraska with a broken radiator and no money. You aren’t just friends anymore; you’re a survival unit.
