PackLate.com’s newest idea: sleeping with strangers

I’ve never been skiing and I’ve never heard of PackLate.com. And yet, here I am, hopping from ski shop to ski shop in Austin, Texas of all places. I’m trying to nail down a ski jacket worth the money, but I’ve already assigned more than five hours to this task and I’m beginning to work out the math of my time vs. my money vs. my ski jacket as I pull into the sixth store. I don’t think my orders are especially tall. I think they’re simple. I just want a jacket that’s black and warm. That’s it. I find it unreasonably difficult to match a jacket to my criteria and I’m getting the impression that all of these skier-by-weekend, ski-shop-worker-by-weekday guys think I’m just inexperienced. And they are, of course, correct. I’ve never been skiing before. I’ve never even seen anyone ski before.

“This purple jacket is pretty rad. It’s one of our most popular ladies jackets”, explains the employee of the sixth store, who is, I’m pretty sure, still in high school.

While I have explicitly said I’m looking for a no-frills black jacket, he seems to think I just don’t know what I want. Truth of the matter be told, I lived in New York City for 8 years–black is my default go-to color. What he’s showing me is not a go-to color. It’s fuchsia.

“I just want something I can wear when I’m not skiing, as well”, I say, becoming more hopeless with every exasperated conversation like this I find myself having. “I’m not a skier. I’m trying it for the first time ever this weekend”.

“Oh yeah? Where ya goin'”, he asks while hanging the fuchsia jacket back up on the perforated wall.

“Tahoe”, I say. “I leave tomorrow morning”.

“Tahoe!” he exclaims, suddenly attentive. “Tahoe is sick. Are you just going to ski?”, he asks, seeming genuinely curious now.

“Kind of. I’m also a part of this vacation rental experiment that this website, PackLate.com, is hosting. So I’ll be staying in a big house with a bunch of people I’ve never met before. Lets hope none of them are axe murderers”.

%Gallery-118787%As I watch the landscape unfold before me, 30,000 feet below me, from my window seat on the plane, I realize it’s not axe murderers I’m really worried about. It’s the ordinary button-pushing people I hope to avoid this weekend. I’ve caught glimpses of anonymous personalities through internet comments, ones I often find myself perusing, and I’m a little bit nervous. If I’m stuck sharing a bathroom with someone who represents one or more of my people-fears, birthed largely from the internet, this weekend might not be a good one. And thus, the risk of shacking up with random people from the online sphere.

The topography becomes more rigid, more barbed with slicing mountain tops, and soon after, the plane descends into Sacramento. I proceed to:

1. Rent a car, one with seats that will fold down. I’m staying in Northern California a week longer than my housemates in Tahoe and I don’t yet know where I’m going or when I’m going there. And I don’t think the ability to sleep in my car will be a bad thing.

2. Locate, purchase, and devour In-N-Out Burger. There’s no choice in this move; it’s inarguably necessary.

3. Drive east until I stop at a CVS to purchase: hand and foot warmers.

4. Pull over to take photos of the striking views from the road leading into town, South Lake Tahoe.

5. Arrive at the vacation rental house in Tahoe.

PackLate.com is a website that offers low last-minute prices on vacation rentals to travelers willing to leave town at the drop of a hat. But CEO Steve Barsh has been thinking–something he seems to be very good at doing. While in Park City, Utah recently for none other than the Sundance Festival, Barsh found himself in a unique situation: alone in a big house. Being alone in a towering living space can be disenchanting for most people, but Barsh did something about it: he put out an S.O.S. on the PackLate Facebook page. Here’s how it looked:

“The CEO of PackLate is staying in a huge, gorgeous 3 BR condo in Park City this weekend (1/21-1/23). Inviting any PackLate.com fans to stay for FREE and come enjoy skiing or Sundance Film Festival. LIKE this post if you want to stay and we’ll reach out to you go try to get you in! Room for 2 other couples / 2 pairs of friends. Uploading photos in a moment.”

And then, as promised, the photos were released. Actually, you can still check them out right here. With only five photos up for the viewing, PackLate fans did respond to this outcry and, on their own dime, a few of them flew out to Park City for the weekend of January 21st. Their incentive? The free lodging, naturally. But there were also other appealing elements present for fans who were interested in this weekend: spontaneity, experience, and the prospect of making a new friend. And according to firsthand reports, these thirsts were quenched. The end result was good. Good enough for Barsh to want to do it all over again.

Just three weeks later, Barsh was at it again. The logic was this: if his random mingling of strangers in his Park City condo that January weekend had gone so well, it could go well again. Without much time to put it all together, PackLate soon after announced another opportunity to share a vacation rental with Barsh–in Tahoe. His marketing whiz, Stephen Daimler, would also be on the trip this time around. Photos of a well-to-do vacation rental with half a dozen or so bedrooms were posted on Facebook and fans were asked to leave wall comments explaining why they wanted to spend the weekend in Tahoe. Again, fans would have to pay for plane tickets on their own, but the lodging would be covered–and shared.

Over 100 fans clamored for the weekend getaway this time. The winners were eventually chosen and invited to bring a guest. Rob, an absolutely cool guy from Florida, wound up in Tahoe, but he had first been one of the guests in Park City. Happy with the way things had gone in Park City, he and his son Scott arrived in Tahoe cradling several bottles of von Strasser wine–a little house warming gift they transported from their own vacation home in Napa.

Four other guests eventually poured into the the spacious open kitchen; two couples from San Francisco. The savory wine helped break the ice, but ice-breaking with this crowd was already easy. At my initial detection, I ascertained that there weren’t any axe murderers nor walking manifestations of my other worst fears among us. And so I found myself engaged in truly interesting conversation whilst dismantling an impressive hors d’oeuvre spread laid out by Barsh.

“So Elizabeth. You’ve never been skiing before?”, asked Barsh, without a single presumptuous inflection in his voice.

“Nope! This is my first time. I’m excited”, I said, reminding myself that I was, in fact, excited and not terrified.

“You’re going to have so much fun!”, he responded with a bit of authoritative enthusiasm, as if my fun-having was non-negotiable–a fact of skiing.

There was a tangible excitement in the air of the house the following morning. We were all waking up and dressing for the mountain while the two Steves were making bacon in the oven, scrambling eggs, and arranging cut fruit, juice, and other morning grains on the wide-spanning kitchen bar. Rob used a coffee filter cone to fill my cup with Ritual Coffee, which is, as it turns out, damn good coffee. Daimler offered to drive to Kirkwood Resort–about 45 minutes south of South Lake Tahoe.

I discovered myself feeling something I had felt at other times in my life… during choir camp, volleyball conditioning, freshman orientation: instant camaraderie. I’ve spent much of my adult life living with people who were complete strangers before I lived with them. By and large, the thanks for this goes to Craigslist; a matter-of-fact necessary tool when trying to nail down roommates in New York City. And while things don’t always go swimmingly well with strangers I suddenly find myself camped out with, things usually go acceptably well. Most people, I believe, are not bad. Most strangers, I believe, are not threats. Had I believed anything other than, I wouldn’t have wound up in Tahoe for this social experiment to begin with.

And so we skied.

And so I fell.

And so I got back up, repeatedly, and skied some more.

When we finally left the hills of Kirkwood late that afternoon, we gathered around a large picnic table style booth at a nearby pub and dug into several plates of deep-fried appetizers and we chased the food with well-deserved beverages. Amid our dinner conversation, Barsh requested our thoughts on the concept we were, at that moment, practicing: vacationing alongside perfect strangers.

Unbeknownst to Barsh, our collective voices spoke loudly on this topic. Not only were we all fully supporting the concept at hand, and having fun doing so, but we were suddenly brainstorming. How could PackLate do this again? How could PackLate do this again without PackLate employees present? Would people pay substantially lower rates for a vacation rental they would be sharing with (hopefully) like-minded travelers? Our answer was: yes. Our recurring question was: why not?

The hot tub’s water spilled onto the deck that night with our over-occupancy. But the stars were bright and the cold mountain air had a certain holistic breath to it, one I inhaled slowly and deeply before running (while screaming and laughing) up to the master bedroom’s in-room sauna/steam room.

We went to Heavenly Resort the following day.

And so we skied.

And so I fell.

And so I got back up, repeatedly, and skied some more.

Our respective departures were genuinely a little bit sad and definitely a little bit too soon and PackLate’s vacation-with-strangers concept was still rumbling around in my head when I arrived in San Francisco much later that night. I thought, and still think, they’re really onto something. I mean… why not?

Why not match yourself by way of interests, like skiing, with like-minded people who are also seeking like-minded people?

Why not save a significant amount of money and shack up together in a vacation rental?

Why not have an unexpected adventure?

Why not make some new friends?

PackLate’s idea is still zygotic. They’re still thinking on, polling, and tweaking the concept. But this ‘share a vacation rental’ idea may soon be integrated into the travel services they offer on their site.

And according to Justin, one of the PackLate fans along for the Tahoe trip, this idea is a good one. When I asked him what he thought about the weekend once he’d been settled back into his home in San Francisco for a few weeks, this is what he said:

“Tahoe via Packlate was a really great experience where we were able to enjoy amazing accommodations, ski fantastic slopes, and meet great friends in the process. I would definitely use and or join a group using Packlate again in a heartbeat!”

Barsh had some comments, as well.

“PackLate is experimenting with pairing together people with strong common interests, who don’t know each other, in the same home”, says Barsh when I ask him to describe to this concept. He continues on to describe the current state of the concept, “We’ve gotten tremendous direct feedback and it’s a thrill to experience it with our customers and learn from them. It’s something we’ll continue to test”.

And while PackLate is still testing, my advice is to keep your eyes peeled. Hostels, B&Bs, airbnb.com, couchsurfing.com–these are all accommodations options playing off of the success of introducing strangers with a common bond in travel. If PackLate can narrow those interests down even further, the success, I presume, should be larger. If they wind up generating enough support to offer vacation rentals for music festivals, I’ll see you in Tennessee for Bonnaroo. And I’ll leave my ski jacket at home.

5 tips for sleeping in your car




Although I’d say I was always a traveler, the meaning of travel didn’t fully kick in for me until my early twenties. I found myself touring with my old band during this time of my life. And while it’s difficult to accommodate a single poor person every night of a 30-80 stint on the road, it’s even more difficult to accommodate four poor people every night for that long. Because of this, my band mates and I took the easiest way out and routinely slept in the car.

Our respective cars were (in order): a Honda Odyssey, a Suburban, a Ford 12 passenger van, and a Ford E150 van. We filled these cars tightly in a Tetris-like fashion with drums, guitars, amps, merchandise, and the personal belongings needed for several weeks on the road. I could see the mound of gear every time I checked my rear-view mirror. The sleeping area was abbreviated at best and the coping skills I developed along the way became monumental lessons learned in how to sleep in cars.

Last fall I moved from New York City to Austin and I drove south for four days with my boyfriend and a backseat/trunk area clogged with instruments and clothing. The car (which is still running) is a 1996 Honda Accord with 272,000 miles on it. Sleeping in this car wasn’t easy when we pulled over at a rest station in Charleston, West Virginia, but it’s wasn’t impossible, either.

Skip to a recent embarkment on a 10 day road trip across Northern California. We upgraded our economy car rental for $5 more a day at the last minute and we did so for a good reason: the seats in the slightly more expensive car fold down into a debatable version of a bed.

It’s not that we can’t afford hotels or Air B&B rooms. It’s just that we can spend our money on other things if we sometimes bypass the budgeting for accommodations. We can have a few extra nice meals out and a few extra drinks at those meals. We can attend a few more shows and afford a few more guitar pedals for our studio in Austin. We can do these things with just one less hotel room per trip in some cases. It’s not for everyone, but if you’re interested, here are some tips from my own experience for skipping lodging expenses, staying the night in a car, and actually getting some sleep.

1. Visualize your bed
Since every car is built differently, your sleeping options will vary from car to car. The worst case scenario here is often times the Honda Accord scenario I outlined above: a small car with a trunk and a backseat filled to the brim. The best case scenario is a van or a truck with a covered bed. But no matter what kind of car you’re traveling in, take a close look at where you’ll be sleeping. Know whether you’ll need to sleep in a seat upright, on seats that fold down into a somewhat flat surface, or on a bench seat, for instance. Tip: If you’re renting a car, consider your potential sleeping space when choosing your vehicle.

2. Acquire bedding
Whether you’re packing from home and planning well in advance to sleep in the car during an upcoming trip or deciding on a whim to give it a go, you will, I promise you, sleep better with some bedding. Pillows and blankets will make you a happier car-camper than you would be without them, but sleeping bags will make the world of difference you need on a chilly night. Something thick enough to cover any jolting uneven surfaces will save your tired soul–and your neck. Foam bedding is good for this because it can later be rolled up and stowed. Tip: If you’re in a jam, piles of clothing as bedding is better than nothing at all.

3. Prioritize privacy
Ok, I’ll admit, you sacrifice a certain level of privacy when you sleep in public, even if it’s in your own car. But some measures you can take will at least make sure your sleeping quarters are a little more private. If you have a choice in cars, go for one with tinted windows or no windows at all in the back. Some people suggest covering your entire sleeping area with a tarp. I haven’t tried this yet myself, but I’m sure it works. At the end of the day (when you’re likely to be car-crashing), you’ll sleep better the more you feel like you’re in a bed and not a car. Block the outside world as best as you can and you’ll start thinking of your car as your bedroom before you know it. Tip: While touring, we often rigged up a sheet or blanket against the back windows–this works fine.

4. Park wisely
You can’t sleep in your car just anywhere. Well, ok, scratch that. You can, but you run the risk of being rudely awakened by someone asking you to move. It’s no fun waking up to the bouncing beams of an intrusive flashlight at 4am, so try to avoid this. Don’t park in lots for businesses that aren’t open 24 hours. Avoid standing out as the only car in an area. Instead, shoot for rest stops, 24 hour parking lots, and, my favorite, residential streets. As long as you’re respectful and private in your car-sleeping affairs, it probably won’t even be obvious to nearby strangers that you’re sleeping in your car. The better job you do at forging some semblance or an ordinary unoccupied parked car, the better you’ll sleep. Tip: Stay away from street lights.

5. Bring your morning routine with you
Your best car sleeping experiences will be had when paired with proper morning planning. A quick trip into a public bathroom with these items in hand will get you ready for the day ahead: toothbrush, toothpaste, face wash, hair bush, and razor. Also be sure to have any medication you need on hand, something for an easy breakfast (granola bars do the trick), and clean underwear. Tip: If your hair gets greasy easily, have some baby powder with you. A sprinkle of it brushed into your hair will absorb the grease.

I have a soft spot for sleeping in the car, uncomfortable as it sometimes is. If you find yourself wanting to save money and avoid planning while traveling, take my advice and try it out. In the meantime, let us know in the comments of your personal car-sleeping tricks, tips, and tales.