Here's how a California couple is quarantining in a van for months in the Western wilderness, fighting off swarms of bugs and hunting for stable WiFi

The couple is usually based in San Francisco Bay Area, parking their van in various campgrounds in the region.

Hanes was laid off from her job as a radio news reporter in 2016, and with the sudden crushing loss of income, gave up her $1,500-a-month apartment and moved onto her partner's sailboat.

However, they don't have live-aboard status at their Ventura marina, meaning they can't legally live on their sailboat for more than a few days. They've only been back to the boat docked in Ventura twice since all of this began.

They stay far away from others on the infrequent occasion that they encounter anyone — Hanes said they've barely come across anybody while camping.

"It is kind of scary when you're living in a van to have a shelter-in-place order," Hanes told Business Insider.

But they've found a good rhythm so far.

Hanes said that was a big problem for acquaintances of theirs who rely upon reservations at those campgrounds and were kicked out with nowhere else to go.

So Hanes said she and her partner started going into national parks and Bureau of Land Management (BLM) lands where you can camp for free.

Finding campsites with strong connections in places where the weather is suitable can take hours, she said.

She documents her van lifestyle among other things on the site, which is her primary source of income. Her partner usually works as an electrical contractor in San Francisco, but his work is paused in light of the pandemic. He's studying to become a licensed ham radio operator for the time being.

So they may be traveling, but finding a sturdy connection during the day is crucial. The couple has a hotspot supplying unlimited internet connection, and Hanes said they try to find campsites with phone signals.

"It's been pretty amazing," she said. "We've deep in the desert or in the forest and I'm able to work. So that's been pretty phenomenal to just sit in nature and be able to have access to the internet out there."

They can collect fresh, cold water from mountain streams and then put it through the system.

The van came with a fold-down back seat that makes a bed. Hanes and her partner each have a bin to store their clothes. In addition to the solar panels, there are two batteries mounted under the van.

The van wasn't used to such prolonged time spent in rough terrain.

Early on, the street tires on the van proved less than rugged, and one went out on them. They had to plug it in the middle of the desert before having more durable truck tires installed.

Adapting the van gave Hanes peace of mind.

If they're staying in the desert for a few days, the cost is lower. But if they drive a further distance to Prescott, Arizona, the gas bill could easily reach $600 for the month.

And the two have much more outdoor space than other sheltered-in-place residents in the Bay Area.

Sometimes she'll work outside, while her partner works inside the van. Then she'll walk to a different area of the campsite to do some yoga.

But in the mountains, it can get down into the 30s, so they'll double up on pants and use their sleeping bags that are designed to withstand the cold.

On another occasion, clusters of mice scurried in the area surrounding the van.

At another campsite near Las Vegas, about 30 honey bees made themselves at home in the couple's water reserve.

And at a campsite in Flagstaff, huge black moths swarmed them one day.

"Between that and being on the boat and being able to go out to the Channel Islands where there's nobody or being able to just be out sailing is comforting — to know that we have those places where we can escape weird things like pandemics or natural disasters," she said. "We have our little escape pod."

It'll likely only be one long-term effect of the pandemic.

"It's weird that this disease around has us has totally reformulated how we think about being near others, which is sad."