April 19th, 2025 | by Shelby Farrell
Welcome to Quench'd, a weekly story series for cyclists and adventurers. We hope these stories make you smile, learn something new, and show you a new perspective. To see past Quench'd stories, head to our library here.
Welcome to Quench'd, a weekly story series for cyclists and adventurers. We hope these stories make you smile, learn something new, and show you a new perspective. To see past Quench'd stories, head to our library here.
Shelby is a trail enthusiast, cat mom, and firm believer that aliens are out there. Long-distance trail running is her happy place, though after an injury sidelined her, she gained a fresh perspective on mountain biking. 🤘🏽
Originally from Connecticut, she honed her love for adventure in Vermont during her college and post-grad years. In 2018, she and her husband—along with their cats—packed up their Subaru and road-tripped west, unknowingly setting off on a life-changing journey. After five years in Southern California, the call of the wild proved too strong to ignore, leading them to embrace full-time #vanlife. From chasing FKTs to chasing her cats around the van, Shelby’s adventures are anything but ordinary. Follow her journey on Instagram @shelbzzf or YouTube!
We are so grateful to have Shelby as a Bivo ambassador and to have her spreading the Bivo love to trail runners and van lifers everywhere she travels!
Shelby is a trail enthusiast, cat mom, and firm believer that aliens are out there. Long-distance trail running is her happy place, though after an injury sidelined her, she gained a fresh perspective on mountain biking. 🤘🏽
Originally from Connecticut, she honed her love for adventure in Vermont during her college and post-grad years. In 2018, she and her husband—along with their cats—packed up their Subaru and road-tripped west, unknowingly setting off on a life-changing journey. After five years in Southern California, the call of the wild proved too strong to ignore, leading them to embrace full-time #vanlife. From chasing FKTs to chasing her cats around the van, Shelby’s adventures are anything but ordinary. Follow her journey on Instagram @shelbzzf or YouTube!
We are so grateful to have Shelby as a Bivo ambassador and to have her spreading the Bivo love to trail runners and van lifers everywhere she travels!
There are only so many times you can hit your head before you figure out how to move in a small space. Somehow, neither of us ended up with a concussion in those first two months of living full-time in our Winnebago Solis 59PX (fondly known as the Mothership)—a miracle, really.
Van life is an adventure, a test of patience, and a lesson in living with less. It’s not always as glamorous as Instagram makes it seem, but the moments that have you shouting “HASHTAG VAN LIFE” at the top of your lungs? They make every challenge worth it. 🚐
In 2022, my husband, two cats (Todd & Felicia), and I were happily living in Redondo Beach, California—but the mountains were calling. Spending three hours on a 20-mile round-trip drive to run on trails for an hour felt like a broken equation. Plus, we knew LA wasn’t our forever. Homeownership in Southern California wasn’t in the cards, but a van? That, we could buy. We saw van life as a way to figure out where we wanted to “base down” (because the word “settle” sounds terrifying). So, on February 1, 2023, after 30 trips to Goodwill, we took the leap and officially moved out of our apartment.
Another driving force? My Fastest Known Time (FKT) dream on Vermont’s Long Trail. The first eight months of van life were dedicated to that goal. We spent two months training in Vermont, camping up and down the state, waking up in the woods, and immersing ourselves in studying all 273 miles of the trail. Uniquely, summer 2023 was the wettest Vermont had seen since 1948, with a staggering 22.7 inches of rain reported in the Barre-Montpelier area. But the downpours didn’t stop me from training. Rain hammered the roof of the van—a sound I loved—while my training plan demanded seven hours on the trail. At times, I couldn’t tell if I was following the route or wading through a river, but it didn’t matter. I embraced the adventure, splashing through puddles like a child. More often than not, the trailheads were deserted when I returned, giving me the freedom to strip off my soaked clothes under the open sky, let nature rinse me clean, and then retreat into the van with the heat blasting, warm and proud for getting out there despite the less than ideal conditions. In the end, my FKT attempt didn’t pan out, but I’m not done with the Long Trail! 😉
There are only so many times you can hit your head before you figure out how to move in a small space. Somehow, neither of us ended up with a concussion in those first two months of living full-time in our Winnebago Solis 59PX (fondly known as the Mothership)—a miracle, really.
Van life is an adventure, a test of patience, and a lesson in living with less. It’s not always as glamorous as Instagram makes it seem, but the moments that have you shouting “HASHTAG VAN LIFE” at the top of your lungs? They make every challenge worth it. 🚐
In 2022, my husband, two cats (Todd & Felicia), and I were happily living in Redondo Beach, California—but the mountains were calling. Spending three hours on a 20-mile round-trip drive to run on trails for an hour felt like a broken equation. Plus, we knew LA wasn’t our forever. Homeownership in Southern California wasn’t in the cards, but a van? That, we could buy. We saw van life as a way to figure out where we wanted to “base down” (because the word “settle” sounds terrifying). So, on February 1, 2023, after 30 trips to Goodwill, we took the leap and officially moved out of our apartment.
Another driving force? My Fastest Known Time (FKT) dream on Vermont’s Long Trail. The first eight months of van life were dedicated to that goal. We spent two months training in Vermont, camping up and down the state, waking up in the woods, and immersing ourselves in studying all 273 miles of the trail. Uniquely, summer 2023 was the wettest Vermont had seen since 1948, with a staggering 22.7 inches of rain reported in the Barre-Montpelier area. But the downpours didn’t stop me from training. Rain hammered the roof of the van—a sound I loved—while my training plan demanded seven hours on the trail. At times, I couldn’t tell if I was following the route or wading through a river, but it didn’t matter. I embraced the adventure, splashing through puddles like a child. More often than not, the trailheads were deserted when I returned, giving me the freedom to strip off my soaked clothes under the open sky, let nature rinse me clean, and then retreat into the van with the heat blasting, warm and proud for getting out there despite the less than ideal conditions. In the end, my FKT attempt didn’t pan out, but I’m not done with the Long Trail! 😉
Living in a van means waking up to mountain lion footprints in the sand, coffee by alpine lakes, and wildflowers exploding in colors you didn’t know existed. It means running in the most beautiful places in the country and meeting people who remind you that good humans are everywhere. Using a combination of apps including AllTrails, Footpath, and Campendium for finding campsites, we plotted our course, often leading us to remote, rarely traveled trails. Our goal was simple: wake up with a trail right outside our door. After spending the summer in Vermont, we cruised south to Florida, where, for the first time in my life, I ran through the Everglades. We watched in awe as egrets and herons gracefully hunted for their next meal, it was a birdwatcher’s paradise. What the apps and maps don’t always reveal, though, is the actual condition of the trail, something I learned firsthand as I nervously trudged through swampy water, hoping no unseen critters were lurking beneath. If the Skunk Ape is real, he was definitely watching me and laughing.
Living in a van means waking up to mountain lion footprints in the sand, coffee by alpine lakes, and wildflowers exploding in colors you didn’t know existed. It means running in the most beautiful places in the country and meeting people who remind you that good humans are everywhere. Using a combination of apps including AllTrails, Footpath, and Campendium for finding campsites, we plotted our course, often leading us to remote, rarely traveled trails. Our goal was simple: wake up with a trail right outside our door. After spending the summer in Vermont, we cruised south to Florida, where, for the first time in my life, I ran through the Everglades. We watched in awe as egrets and herons gracefully hunted for their next meal, it was a birdwatcher’s paradise. What the apps and maps don’t always reveal, though, is the actual condition of the trail, something I learned firsthand as I nervously trudged through swampy water, hoping no unseen critters were lurking beneath. If the Skunk Ape is real, he was definitely watching me and laughing.
Bird watching in Florida
Bird watching in Florida
Living in a van also means chaos—like nearly losing our generator in the desert outside Las Vegas. Or the time Todd jumped out of the van at a campground and we didn’t notice until we were miles down the road. We went back and found him meowing under a dumpster. He never did that again.
Living in a van also means chaos—like nearly losing our generator in the desert outside Las Vegas. Or the time Todd jumped out of the van at a campground and we didn’t notice until we were miles down the road. We went back and found him meowing under a dumpster. He never did that again.
Pros:
Pros:
Cons:
Now, after two years and over 50,000 miles crisscrossing the country, we've settled in Colorado Springs, embracing the comfort of a stationary home. But the memories we made on the road? Absolutely unforgettable. And don’t worry, the van is here to stay. With plenty of weekend adventures and race trips already on the calendar (including Cocodona 250 this May!) the Mothership is just getting a well-earned break from full-time duty.
Van life is raw, humbling, and exhilarating. It made us more adaptable, more grateful, and more aware of what truly matters. It’s not perfect, but that’s what makes it so special.
If you’re thinking about it—just send it. The road will teach you the rest
Cons:
Now, after two years and over 50,000 miles crisscrossing the country, we've settled in Colorado Springs, embracing the comfort of a stationary home. But the memories we made on the road? Absolutely unforgettable. And don’t worry, the van is here to stay. With plenty of weekend adventures and race trips already on the calendar (including Cocodona 250 this May!) the Mothership is just getting a well-earned break from full-time duty.
Van life is raw, humbling, and exhilarating. It made us more adaptable, more grateful, and more aware of what truly matters. It’s not perfect, but that’s what makes it so special.
If you’re thinking about it—just send it. The road will teach you the rest
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