One of the most difficult and important decisions regarding vanlife is what model of van to start with. I’ve seen vanlifers convert everything from small minivans to vehicles so large you can stand up inside them. Every van model has advantages and disadvantages; the bigger the van, the bigger the price tag. I got so overwhelmed while shopping for my van that I bought the first one that remotely met my low requirements, a 2007 Ford E250 cargo van. It’s bigger than a minivan and, because Ford literally sold millions of these things, parts are cheap and readily available. It also drives like a rigid truck and gets about 12 miles to the gallon.

It wasn’t until I had already purchased my van that I discovered the Ford Transit Connect — specifically, the 2010-2013 XLT high roof models. I’ve always had a thing for “boxy” vehicles. In the late 90s, I drove a Chevy Astro minivan just for fun. I’ve owned a Scion XB (the little square one) and currently own a Ford Flex. The Transit Connect’s quirky shape scratches that same itch; it also drives more like a car than a van and gets about 25 mpg, or about twice what my van gets. It also has dual sliding doors (one on each side). Before long I had van envy. I’ve been dragging my feet on my current van conversion because I’ve sorta/kinda been looking to upgrade to a Transit Connect.

Ford only made the XLT high roof version of the Transit Connect from 2010 to 2013, which means best case scenario I’m looking at an 11-to-14 year old van. I’ve been looking for one with low miles that’s not beat to hell. I’ve been watching my local FB marketplace and Craigslist and the ones with less than 100k miles are typically out of my price range while the ones I can afford often have nearly 200k miles — too many to start road tripping in.

Last week, finally, one came up for sale that met all my requirements. Less than 100k miles with a negotiable price of $9,500. It was a fleet van, which typically means it was well maintained (at least mechanically).

I’m at the point in my van build where I either need to seriously move forward, or abandon ship. When this Transit came up for sale I figured it was a sign.

Last weekend, my wife and I drove across town to go see the van. If it was in good condition, I was prepared to pull the trigger.

I spotted the van immediately in the front corner of the lot. It looked exactly as advertised and was exactly what I was looking for. Susan spotted a few minor hail dents on the hood, but that stuff doesn’t bother me. What I was looking for was a clean, well-kept interior, a well-maintained engine, and a relatively unmolested rear cargo area. Within a few minutes we had located a salesman and obtained the keys to the van.

While the salesman made his pitch I got into the van and immediately realized… it’s too small. Even with the front seat pushed all the way back, I felt like I was mashed up against the steering wheel. The front seats are so close together that I could not see myself hopping from the front to the back or vice-versa like I do in my current van.

My heart sunk as I climbed into the rear cargo area. It’s small. Tiny, compared to my van. I’m not an idiot and knew going in that the Transit Connect was smaller than my full-sized van, but spatially I did not realize how much smaller it was until I was standing — er, crouching — inside. The length of the cargo area, that is from the rear of the driver’s seat to the rear door, was just over six foot in length. In my van, it’s nearly nine foot. I’m roughly 6′ tall and in my van on the driver’s side I have a 6′ long bed and a 2′ wide storage area, with space in between them. On the passenger side of my van I have a temporary 4′ long Ikea table. With a similar layout in the Transit Connect, I’d lose all the storage from the driver’s side of my van and have to relocate that stuff to the passenger side, which in my van is already too small. Remember, without the ability to move between the front and the rear of the van while remaining inside, that means at least one of the Transit’s two sliding doors would become the only way in and out of the cargo area and could not be blocked. I literally could not figure out a layout that would allow for all the things I want (a refrigerator, a microwave, a television) and all the things I need (heater, batteries, blankets) at the same time.

I climbed out of the van’s cargo area and into reality. I love the Ford Transit Connect XLT… but it is not the van for me. And that makes me sad.

We humored the salesman by looking at a larger van that was twice the price with 200,000 miles on the engine, but that was never going to happen.

It’s a weird feeling to have your heart and mind disagree. Every time I see a Ford Transit Connect XLT, my heart says YES! I like how they look and like how they drive. Sadly, my brain knows that for what I want to do, that is not the van for me.

I tend to talk a lot while processing things. On the drive home as my wife listened, I talked about how much I wanted to buy that Transit Connect and, in the same breath, how I knew it would not work for me. I tried to make it work. I could sleep sitting up, or folded in half — yeah, that would do it! I could get rid of the passenger seat, or strap the microwave to the roof!

“Honey,” my wife finally said. “Love the van you’re with.”

She’s right. (She usually is.) On the way home, we stopped to buy a drink. Then we went to Home Depot, to pick up some wire for my van’s next project.

Love the van you’re with.