The Off-Road Path to Purpose. LT Recovery Weekend. & The Great Tire Pressure Debate.

ISSUE 42  |  JUNE 24, 2026

Hello, STORYTELLERS! Welcome to the 42nd issue of Galactic Adventures: our community-focused, community-informed newsletter. This issue's featured photo comes to us from MODE Owners, Jim & Shell Funk.

If you would like to see your photo or story featured in Galactic Adventures, please send an email to emma.w@storytelleroverland.com 

The Off-Road Path to Purpose

Title

Dylan Erickson – MODE Owner

My love for the outdoors and wildlife started as a kid adventuring in Northern Wisconsin's public lands during the summers. Some of my first memories are bike rides through the pine-scented woods, swimming in quiet, crystal-clear lakes, and hearing the peaceful calls of loons around a campfire. As I entered adulthood, my adventure shifted to the military, where I spent nine years in the Marine Corps. Those years of my life were a lot of things, but two words that best describe them would be purpose and adventure. When I separated from active duty, I left behind much of the purpose and adventure that had defined my adult life, and I knew I needed to be intentional about finding both again.

I found a renewed sense of purpose through dogs. We adopted two through rescues, and I loved watching them come out of their shells and reveal their personalities. I then began volunteering as a dog walker at my local shelter and quickly became hooked. I found purpose in spending time with dogs that had often gotten a rough start in life, yet were still eager to trust, learn, and connect with people. Working with dogs also became a source of balance and fulfillment in my own life. After developing some dog-handling experience, I started helping family and friends with their dogs, whether it was teaching them to walk more comfortably on leash or finding solutions to problem behaviors in the home. While my civilian career kept me connected to the field I worked in during the military as a consultant, I found myself spending more and more of my free time around dogs. Eventually, I earned a certification as a professional dog trainer.

After finding a new sense of purpose through dogs, finding a substitute for the adventure I had experienced in the Marine Corps became the next priority. Jumping out of planes was no longer in the cards, nor was easy access to free diving since I was no longer living on a coast. Living not far from the Appalachian Mountains, overlanding captured my interest. I was in search of a tool that could take me off the grid, to a trailhead, or to a peaceful lake like the ones that filled my childhood. While I had seen countless impressive builds, my priorities kept bringing me back to vans.
 

I also travel frequently for work, often to remote locations, and I asked my employer if I could purchase a van, stay in it during work trips, and rent it back to the company instead of staying in hotels. They agreed, and the search for the right build began. I wanted a builder on the East Coast for support if I ever needed it, and I wanted the highest quality possible since I planned to spend well over half the year living and traveling in it. Storyteller Overland checked both of those boxes, and I adopted Betty the Beast in the summer of 2024.

Since then, Betty has been to almost every state in the lower 48 (coming for you next, Pacific Northwest), whether for work travel, overlanding adventures, or visits to dog shelters along the way. My wife had the idea of documenting our adventures, and we started an Instagram account, @roaming.with.rescues, that follows not only our travels but also highlights some of the incredible dogs we meet along the way. The van has allowed us to combine two of the things that bring us the most fulfillment: exploring new places and supporting animal rescues wherever our travels take us.
 

Of all the places we’ve visited so far, the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem earlier this year may be our favorite. Sitting on the roof of Betty the Beast before sunrise with a warm cup of coffee and a pair of binoculars, watching the Lamar Valley slowly come to life as wolves moved through the distance, are memories that will stay with us for a long time. Moments like that remind me why I bought the van in the first place. The ability to wake up in remarkable places and experience moments that would otherwise be out of reach has become one of the greatest gifts of this lifestyle.

As I spend time working with dogs and exploring the outdoors, I’ve come to realize that many of the things I loved as a kid still matter to me today. Whether it’;s a quiet campsite, a remote trail, or an early morning spent watching wildlife, those experiences help me slow down and appreciate what’s around me. In many ways, finding my way back to the outdoors felt like coming home.
 

As I write this, my wife and I are preparing to welcome our first child into the world. The public lands, trails, lakes, and wildlife that shaped me growing up are things I look forward
to sharing with my son one day. Adventure will look a little different in the years to come, but the goal remains the same: to continue exploring, learning, and building meaningful connections with the people, places, and animals that make life richer. Betty the Beast has already carried us across much of the country, and I’m excited to see where the next
chapter takes our growing family.

LT Recovery Weekend

Title

Karen Huntzinger – MODE Owner

The Ford Transit Storytellers (Mode LT) are similar to the MB classic model, but the Ford components are different. LT owners have had many questions about best practices in driving our vans, as well as recovery specific questions.


8 LT owners met in Pacific City, Oregon with JJ and Beck from Wolfpack Overland. Just getting together was special, so we could see how we've modified our vans. We reviewed our recovery gear, as well as recommended gear. It was great to have a mechanic there to explain special Ford features/best practices. 
 

We practiced kinetic recovery with and without a winch, how to take care of a winch, and appropriate tow/jack points on a Ford van. We are more likely to have wheel failures than the MB vans, so it was important to practice changing a wheel in the field. Becky changed a wheel all by herself (with coaching). 

Airing up/down and compressor options were reviewed, and then a short drive on the beach at low tide. We received a lot of double takes from everyone from Rangers to locals.

We are already planning our next trip this fall. 

The Great Tire Pressure Debate

Title

Pat & Anne Williams, MODE Owners

Cape Lookout National Seashore is a magical place to camp.  We were headed there as soon as the freeway reopened after a multi-sheriff car pile up that took hours to clear. Cape Lookout is accessible only by ferry and there are very few restrictions on where you can stay as long as you have a capable vehicle.  
 

This leads to the Great Tire Pressure Debate.
 

I should explain:  driving on sand requires deflating your tires to something that seems insane, particularly when you’re piloting a vehicle that weighs approximately the same as a small whale.  Anne watched me work while probably wondering, not for the first time, about my decision-making abilities.  The recommended pressure was 18 PSI which for our massive van seemed like tempting fate. 

So, I did what any sensible person would do:  I asked random strangers for advice.  The first fellow thought 18 PSI was lunacy and suggested 25-30.  Feeling better about life, I then encountered another man who’d just returned from the Cape and insisted I should go down to 18, “if not lower.”
 

“What’s right?” I asked the universe, which as usual remained silent.
 

I split the difference at 20 PSI, employing the timeless problem-solving technique known as 'hoping for the best.”
 

We made it onto the sand without incident, always a plus, and I celebrated by going for a three-mile run on the beach. My legs immediately filed a formal complaint. Running on sand, it turns out, uses muscles you didn't know you had, and several you wished you didn’t. 

The weather cooperated beautifully. No rain, a little wind, temperatures hovering around 70 degrees. I was struck by how temperate it was at the coast, the wind blowing off the equally 70-degree water keeping everything pleasant. It was the kind of weather that makes you forget about traffic jams and tire pressure debates and believe, however briefly, that you've made sound life choices.
 

Then, because the universe has a sense of humor, the rain arrived precisely at 6 AM on Tuesday. Not a gentle rain, but a relentless, soul-crushing deluge that trapped us in the van. No one was going anywhere. No one was fishing. It was just us, the van, and several hundred pages of The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, which I was reading because apparently I'm a party animal.
 

Wednesday morning, after the rain finally surrendered, we decided to explore the northern portion of the cape. People had said it was "more isolated," which in beach-speak means "harder to reach and possibly dangerous." The path was narrow-concerningly narrow-and portions appeared to be underwater at high tide. At one point, the incoming water actually touched our rear wheel, which Anne noticed with admirable calm. 

"It's more peaceful up here," Anne observed, as if we weren't parked at what might become an impromptu submarine dock. The path got even narrower at points. At high tide, it looked thoroughly impassable. There was exactly one campsite available, occupied by a lone tent camper who either had more courage or less sense than us.  We wisely retreated back south of the ferry landing.
 

On one of her walks on the beach, Anne discovered a bottle that had washed ashore.  Not just any bottle, but one filled with messages-the romantic kind of the thing you read about but never actually encounter.  We spent considerable time extracting soggy notes, imagining exotic origins and profound messages. 
 

Reality, as usual was less poetic.  The notes were from the Double tree Hotel, no more than five to ten miles away and contained the sort of inspirational drivel you find on motivational posters: “Love freely,” “Don’t let anyone tell you you aren’t special,” and my personal favorite “don’t eat so many carbs.”
 

Still on our last day, I swam out and relaunched the bottle, sending it hopefully up the coast to confuse and mildly disappoint future beachcombers.
 

The Volta battery stayed above fifty percent charge for the whole trip, which was reassuring in a way that only people who’ve run out of power in remote locations can appreciate.  We never got stuck in the sand.  And the drive home was uneventful which is a blessing by itself when you live in Atlanta.

Title

Life's Greatest Luxury is saying YES to the Next Grand Adventure!

We'd love to hear your stories and see your pictures from the road! Send to Emma at: emma.w@storytelleroverland.com

Latest Stories

Title

more stories