I had already been into backpacking and camping for a few years when I bought my Jeep.
In truth, StoryTeller was an evolution. I had previously owned a Jeep Commander and a Jeep Liberty, but my financial situation at the time—and the realities of family life—made those more practical choices. When I finally pulled the trigger on a Wrangler, I bought it for a pretty simple reason: I wanted a vehicle that could get me to the places I wanted to go. The backcountry.
Shortly after buying it, I was introduced to a Jeep club and went on my first group ride. I remember driving through the mountains with my kids and saying, “You know what would be fun? Doing a trip like a backpacking trip, except instead of walking, we do this.”
At the time, I had never heard the word “overlanding.” I didn’t know there was an entire community built around it. But apparently I already understood the part of it that would appeal to me: self-contained travel through the backcountry, moving from place to place and carrying what we needed with us.
After spending some time on Google looking for ideas and equipment to outfit the Jeep, I stumbled across the concept of overlanding and was immediately obsessed.
Starting With What We Had
Our first setup was pretty modest. The kids and I were already experienced—and equipped—backpackers, so there wasn’t much reason to run out and buy a Jeep full of new gear. We had tents, sleeping bags and pads, backpacking stoves, cookware, water filtration, headlamps and all the other stuff you need to live outside for a few days.
So we threw it in the Jeep and went.
Looking back, I’m glad that’s how I started. There’s a tendency in overlanding to believe you need the vehicle completely outfitted before you can actually go anywhere. Roof racks, drawer systems, refrigerators, elaborate kitchens, rooftop tents, awnings, electronics and storage systems. Some of that equipment is incredibly useful, and I’ve accumulated plenty of it myself, but none of it is what got me into overlanding.
Getting into the backcountry did.
Over time, my equipment evolved. Today I essentially have multiple sets of outdoor gear. I still have lightweight equipment for backpacking, but when I’m traveling in StoryTeller I can afford to carry things that are heavier, bulkier and considerably more comfortable. A tiny backpacking stove makes perfect sense when you’re carrying everything on your back. When the Jeep is doing the carrying, I don’t mind bringing a bigger stove, a real chair, a larger tent or an ice chest.
The objective is still pretty much the same. The logistics are different.
Taking the Long Way
Eventually I started using mapping tools to plan trips, particularly CalTopo, which remains my personal favorite today. That may have been the point where overlanding really hooked me because I discovered that I enjoyed building the trip almost as much as taking it.
I’d sit in front of a map connecting forest roads, campsites, trails, overlooks and little places I wanted to see. A normal drive suddenly became an opportunity to find a completely different way of getting somewhere. Instead of asking, “What’s the fastest way there?” I started asking, “What’s the most interesting way there?”
Sometimes we turned completely ordinary travel into an expedition.
My parents lived in Lake City, Florida, while the girls and I lived in Atlanta. Before one trip to visit them, I asked the girls whether they wanted to stick to the highway and make the drive in about five hours or take the long way. They chose the long way, so I gave them an assignment: each of them could pick something they wanted to see, but their choices had to make geographical sense together. One couldn’t choose something on the Atlantic coast while the other chose something in Alabama.
My younger daughter picked The Pirates’ House restaurant in Savannah. Riffing off that, the other picked St. Augustine because of its pirate history. And just like that, our pirate road trip was born.
I took their two choices and started playing with the map. What would normally have been five hours of interstate became a multi-day trip that included camping on the beach at Peters Point, looping through Ocala National Forest and Paynes Prairie, and eventually visiting my parents. On the return trip we went through the Okefenokee, rented a jon boat and explored the swamp while the girls counted alligators. They lost count somewhere around 100.
That kind of trip became a recurring thing for us. We really didn’t need a theme, but picking one gave the girls some ownership in the adventure and gave me an excuse to see what I could build around it.
For another trip, the theme was “underground.” We left Atlanta, camped in the Cohutta and worked our way toward Nemo Tunnel in Tennessee, where we drove through the old railroad tunnel several times because, well, why wouldn’t you? We camped nearby and kept the theme going on the way home with stops at The Lost Sea and Ruby Falls in Chattanooga.
It wasn’t an especially complicated premise: find interesting things underground and figure out an interesting way to connect them. But that’s exactly what made those trips fun. The theme gave us a reason to go, and everything between those destinations became part of the adventure.
Then there was the time we went looking for Bigfoot. That one took us around essentially the entire perimeter of the Cohutta Wilderness, exploring forest roads, hiking trails and finding campsites along the way. We finished the trip with the obvious stop at Expedition: Bigfoot in Blue Ridge.
We did not find Bigfoot in the wild, but we found a lot of other things along the way, and that was really the point.
Some of our trips were what I thought of as “mixed media.” We’d car camp one night, drive somewhere the next morning, leave the Jeep and shoulder our backpacks for a night in the woods. Other times we’d stay with the Jeep the entire trip. The lines between overlanding, camping, backpacking, hiking and road-tripping weren’t particularly important to us.
What mattered was that we were going somewhere.
More Than Car Camping
That’s probably the biggest distinction in how I think about overlanding today.
I enjoy camping. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with loading up the Jeep, finding a good campsite, setting up camp and spending the weekend there. I’ve done plenty of it and I’ll do plenty more.
But that’s not really what draws me to overlanding.
For me, an overland trip needs some kind of intent. I want to go somewhere—or several somewheres. Maybe there’s a destination I’m trying to reach, a route I want to connect, a place I’ve found on a map that I want to see for myself, or a part of the backcountry I’ve never explored. Sometimes the purpose is completely ridiculous. We once went looking for Bigfoot, after all. The purpose doesn’t have to be profound. It just gives the trip a direction.
I think that’s also why I’ve always liked the word expedition. An expedition has an objective. There’s a reason for leaving, even if that reason is simply curiosity.
It’s easy for overlanding to become focused on equipment. Build the vehicle, add the accessories, buy the newest piece of gear and eventually you’ve assembled an incredibly capable platform for backcountry travel. I enjoy that part too. StoryTeller certainly isn’t stock, and my gear collection isn’t getting any smaller.
But eventually I think you have to point the thing somewhere and go.
That matters even more to me living and traveling in the Southeast. Exploring Georgia isn’t the same as crossing the Australian Outback or spending two weeks hundreds of miles from civilization. Even in some of our more remote areas, you’re usually not terribly far from a paved road, a gas station or a grocery store.
So I don’t feel the need to manufacture remoteness just so I can call something an expedition.
Instead, I look for purpose.
Maybe the challenge is navigating a route I’ve built through a network of forest roads. Maybe I’m trying to reach several waterfalls in one trip. Maybe the Jeep is simply the transportation that gets me deep enough into the mountains to put on a backpack and continue on foot. As I get more involved with paddling, maybe part of the trip eventually happens on the water.
And sometimes I want the trip to push me a little. That might mean driving a more difficult trail, spending another night out, navigating somewhere unfamiliar, dealing with weather, or simply getting outside the comfortable routine of places I already know.
Not recklessness. Not creating difficulty for the sake of having a story to tell.
Just exploration with enough uncertainty that I might learn something.
What Overlanding Looks Like for Me Today
Over the years, both the Jeep and the way I travel have changed. There was certainly a period when I got caught up in the equipment, and that’s easy to do. Building a rig is fun. I still enjoy working on StoryTeller, figuring out storage, testing camping setups and finding better ways to make the Jeep work in the field.
But the Jeep isn’t really the point. It never was.
The reason I bought a Wrangler in the first place was because I wanted a vehicle capable of taking me into the backcountry, and that’s still what I want from it. Sometimes that means spending several days traveling forest roads and camping somewhere different each night. Sometimes it means driving twenty miles down a dirt road because there’s a waterfall, trailhead or campsite at the other end. Sometimes the Jeep gets parked and I put on a backpack. Sometimes there’s a canoe involved. And sometimes it’s simply taking the long way through the mountains instead of staying on pavement.
I’m also not particularly interested in policing anybody else’s definition of overlanding. If loading up a built rig, driving to a campsite and spending the weekend around a fire is what gets someone outside, I’m all for it.
It’s just not what keeps me interested.
I need somewhere to go.
In some ways, I’ve probably come full circle. Years ago I was driving through the mountains with my kids imagining what it would be like to take the basic idea of a backpacking trip and do it with the Jeep. I didn’t have a name for it. I certainly wasn’t thinking about building routes, writing about outdoor travel or eventually becoming involved with something called Expedition Georgia.
I just wanted to see what was down the next forest road.
The equipment is better now. StoryTeller has changed considerably. I’ve learned a lot more about navigation, trip planning, recovery and traveling responsibly in the backcountry. But the motivation hasn’t changed much at all.
Pick a destination. Find an interesting way to get there. See what else is hiding along the way. Take the long way when you can.
And occasionally, go find out where your limits are.
For me, that’s overlanding.
The Jeep just makes it possible.
