Powering across australia
Autumn 2026
Images and Story by Emily Power
In the van life world, there is a rite of passage called a “shakedown trip”. This is the crucial journey, in a new caravan or motorhome, to iron out the inevitable problems that afflict every person who has ever pulled out of a sale yard and into the great beyond.
In October, James and I swapped our starter home — a Mercedes Sprinter van — for our dream set-up: a one-of-a-kind, custom Isuzu 4WD motorhome. This is the beast that will ferry us across Australia’s most unforgiving terrain, from the Nullarbor Plain to the Gibb River Road and the Birdsville Track.
But first, the shakedown. We were based in Queensland, building the truck, for most of 2025, and used the drive to Melbourne, to see our families for Christmas, as the official maiden run. Commercial caravan manufacturers have the luxury of testing and perfecting a model before it goes into production, but we were guinea pigs for our own prototype.
We faced several hiccups. One of the hatches leaked during a storm and saturated all of my belongings, damaging several pieces I treasured. The truck’s tray manufacturer went into liquidation and held us up for several months. I had to cull half of my clothes and shoes, because I’d overestimated the storage space the truck would have. I threw a tantrum. James crouched for hours in a roadside gravel pit to install our water tanks when we had no other option. We’ve both accidentally hit our heads on the pop-top ceiling so many times it barely registers a reaction anymore.
Eventually, the truck was ready enough to live in, and we sold the Sprinter to a young man from Brisbane. Watching him drive off in the first home James and I shared together was emotional. Gee, my life has changed. As much as we loved the Sprinter, we went without everyday conveniences for most of the year, including a proper toilet. After installing the full-size composting loo in the truck, I looked at James and asked breathlessly, “Who wants to go first?”. We were too appreciative of its comforts to want to soil it.
Caravan and campgrounds were essential while we were living in the Sprinter and we’d become connoisseurs. Standouts in Queensland include sleeping alongside roaming cattle at the Kolan River Retreat near Bundaberg, and idling with alpacas at the Macallon Farm Stay, close to Gympie. Along the NSW coast, we rated the Discovery Park in Forster, where we relaxed while the truck’s modular kitchen was constructed, and an old-school campground in the hamlet of Patonga on the Hawkesbury River, where the water lapped metres from our door.
However, now that we have a colossal, functioning home on wheels, with air conditioning, an ensuite, kitchen, dining area and off-road capabilities, we can set our sights on destinations further afield. These are the places the two-wheel drive Sprinter could never go. Camping on the beach, in the salt air, and venturing into forests, where access is hard earned via steep tracks and river crossings, is suddenly attainable.
The truck’s off-road debut was in December at Behr’s Flat in the Kosciuszko National Park. For five days, we sipped wine around the campfire, napped to the sound of running water and watched the evening shadows fall across Mount Townsend. We woke one night to the truck rocking side to side as a large kangaroo itched itself on our chassis. Our ability to drive where ordinary cars and hobby campers cannot go gives us privileged access to the less-trodden places, where nature is unfiltered.
We spent the rest of summer in South Australia — the pretty fishing port of Robe, the crystal waters of Rapid Bay, a drop or two enjoyed in the Barossa Valley and navigating the rugged coast of the Eyre Peninsula. We will celebrate my birthday on the Nullarbor Plain — a milestone we expected to achieve in 2025, but truck delays scotched that. Or perhaps I didn’t want to deal with my age?
From there, our GPS is trained on the Great Australian Bight, and the ancient Western Australia outback on the other side. The Goldfields-Esperance region is on our bucket list for its granite headlands, vast white beaches, colourful salt lakes, and plains of red dust that kick and swirl. After almost a year of false starts, problem solving and tiresome building, we have our truck, and the greatest reward of all — endless time.
