Greg Spengler, my younger sister’s boyfriend/life partner, is a very handy man. There are more items in his toolshed than Jordan and I ever had in our apartment. Panic rises at the thought of ever having to pack them up for a move. We have enlisted his aid in converting our 2009 Subaru Forester, named Taiga, into something that we can comfortably sleep in.
There is little wiggle room. With the front seats moved all the way forward and folded down, we measure 70 inches (177.8 cm) from the inside of the hatchback window to the backs of the front seats, at our sleeping height of 16 inches (40.64 cm) above the floor of the rear storage compartment. I am exactly 70 inches tall.
For a man who enjoys moving without rush, Greg moves like a ninja through his tool shop. Beginning with the rear compartment, which will contain most of our equipment, we measure and re-measure the dimensions of our workspace.
One 3/4 inch slab of plywood, tapered to fit the contours of the car, becomes the platform that our legs will lie on. This is supported by two other pieces of plywood and two 2x4s. One piece of plywood is screwed into the end by the rear seats and is tilted to rest against those seat backs.
Next, we place a trapezoidal piece of plywood lengthwise down the center of the sleeping slab and hold it in place with gussets so that we can slide it out to access one of the spare tires and anything else stored in the spare time compartment.
After some deliberation, we decide to remove the foam panels that border the spare tire, as well as the cloth panels that covered them. We feel that any supports for the corners of the sleeping slab that we place over those soft pieces will wear out in short order. With the metal floor of the spare tire compartment exposed, we make corner supports out of a 16 inch 2×4, which we split down the middle.
Next, we construct a short middle section that folds down when the rear seats are down and extends to about midway down the now-horizontal seat backs. Although it would be more convenient to have a single section for our torsos, we have only 16 inches of clearance above the sleeping slab, but nearly 50 inches of length for the remainder of the bed. We have to make three sections.
This middle section is bound to the leg section with hinges at either side and another gusseted and removable piece of plywood running down its center. The front end of this section rests along the middle of a 1×2 that spans the width of the slab.
We construct the final section of the bed, where we’ll rest our heads, such that the rear end of this section shares the other half of the 1×2 that the middle section rests on and its front end is supported by two 2×2 posts that extend to the floor of the car.
We drop a couple of easily removable bolts into the tail end of this section, anchoring it to the 1×2 so that the middle and head sections don’t separate while we move around at night. Note that with our current sleeping space dimensions clocking in at a just-comfortable-enough 70x47x16, so moving around much is something that we’ll probably discourage ourselves from doing.
I’m excited to be working on something different than my lab work. I’m sweating, getting munched on by mosquitos and have skipped lunch, but it feels good.
Jordan and I test getting into and out of the sleeping space, an act that involves some minor climbing skills. We lay down on the bed platform and take in the space. It’s not exactly a sexy space, but it is cozy. I wonder how many nights we’ll pass in it before it becomes our new normal.
There are still a few last things to do. Jordan is designing mosquito nets to go over the windows, so that we can get a breeze and some fresh air in the car. She’s also working out an awning that we can attach to the back of Taiga, to give us something like a patio space. Lastly, we still have to attach a hitch mount to the car, to carry the second spare tire. Work for another day.
Work for another day…
It’s late afternoon when we call it a day. We sit around the large wooden table on Greg and Anna’s patio, open some beers and joke about small spaces, long trips and the moment I spent muscling down on a drill to get a screw into one of the pieces, before realizing that the drill was in reverse.
The red Texas sun sinks into the hills, more family arrive to help celebrate Jordan’s upcoming birthday, my PhD and to spend some time with us before we head south. The evening slips into night, covered by the sounds of chatter, laughter and one excited four-year-old running through the garden to catch fireflies.
