Built for people who actually use their vehicles.

Growing Up Outdoors

I grew up in the Northeast, and I spent most of my childhood outdoors. My grandparents had built a cottage in upstate New York, where I spent summers fishing and learning survival skills from a Boy Scout handbook. The book turned out to be considerably more exciting than the Scouts themselves.

In middle school, I started surfing. In New England, you usually begin in summer, when the waves are small and the water is forgiving. Winter is when you earn your stripes. Spend enough mornings struggling to use your hands, with icicles in your mustache (if you're old enough to have one), a severe ice cream headache after every duck dive, and eventually the weathered guy in the red truck nods to you on the way back to your car. That’s when you know you’re getting somewhere.

The rest of the time, I was usually on a BMX bike, heading to our hand-built dirt jumps, the skatepark, or whatever else we could find to ride.

Making Things Runs in the Family

Making things and working for myself came pretty naturally. My dad started a business selling credit card processing services to ski resorts. You can probably guess why he chose that particular market. My grandpa owned a sporting goods store, and the fly rod I still use came from his shop’s inventory sometime in the ’60s.

Over the years, I’ve delivered newspapers, cleaned churches, sealed driveways, renovated houses, worked in HVAC and carpentry, worked on airplanes, and shaped surfboards. Eventually, I became an engineer and led product development at some of the world's largest outdoor companies.

One Land Cruiser, Two Jobs

The idea for the Hideaway came from a surf trip to Baja during COVID. A friend invited me along, and through my work I had access to just about every tent and “overland” product imaginable. But I wanted simple. What I wanted was straightforward: a comfortable place to sleep in the back of my 60 Series Land Cruiser.

I own one vehicle. It’s my daily driver and the car I take to Baja, so a sleeping platform had to fit both. I started experimenting with something light, adjustable, and removable. Lightweight aluminum poles let me build the base, but I couldn’t quite figure out the sleeping surface.

The Missing Piece Was a Camp Table

Then, on a rafting trip through the Grand Canyon, I found the idea I’d been missing. We were setting up dinner after a long day on the Colorado River, and I unfolded a collapsible table with a slatted, roll-up top. It made sense immediately: a surface that could support me when assembled and pack away when I was done.

That’s happened often enough that I’ve noticed a pattern. I can spend hours trying to force a problem along at my desk. Once I close the computer and go somewhere, I often find an idea I couldn’t see at home.

Why Pacific Adventure Works

Moving to the Pacific Coast gave me more room for those trips. I loved my childhood in New England, but out West I found myself driving through landscapes that felt entirely different from one another: redwoods, rocky coastlines, sandy beaches, desert, and cactus.

From my home in Santa Cruz, I could head north toward the Pacific Northwest or south toward Baja. Sometimes I brought bikes, climbing gear, surfboards, or a motorcycle. Sometimes I went camping with my family. Those trips gave me time to think about what I wanted from my life and what I could do next. That’s where the Pacific in Pacific Adventure Works comes from.

The Things I Keep

They also taught me that I usually enjoy myself more when I bring less. One—or, okay, maybe two—surfboards. A mountain bike that does what I need. One vehicle that serves the different parts of my life.

I don’t buy much. I’ve got twins to feed, for Christ’s sake. The things I do own get used hard: the puffer jacket with the scars to prove where it’s been, the mountain bike that’s a case study in “good enough” technology, and the Land Cruiser. She’s old and slow, and she’s all I ever wanted.

I built Hideaway with that same approach. A sleeping platform should be simple to use, fit your everyday vehicle, and earn its place among the things you keep.

My hope is that yours gets used enough to collect its own scars. Whether you take it along the Pacific, the Atlantic, or somewhere in between, I’d be honored to have something I built come along.