A Doctor of Occupational Therapy, Ana Perez spends her days helping people regain the independence to simply get out of bed, take a shower, or walk outside. It’s a calling that makes her appreciate her freedom more than most. Together with her Belgian Malinois, Logan, Ana likes to go on adventures in her Tundra TRD Pro built around a ModCAP Camper. It allows her to travel on her own schedule, at her own pace, and at just 5’4″ tall, she’s built a big rig to fit her even bigger life.
Ana Perez will tell you, without a hint of self-pity, that she’s “horrible with directions.” She’ll tell you her fishing pole has yet to catch a single fish. She’ll tell you she once ran a portable AC all night in triple-digit Arizona heat and fried her auxiliary battery. What she won’t tell you — because she’d rather show you – is how she runs her rig by herself.
A Truck in a Church Parking Lot
Ana is a Doctor of Occupational Therapy working in home health and palliative care, mostly with older adults, sometimes with immunocompromised kids, almost always with people for whom getting out of bed unassisted is the goal, not the given. It’s work that leaves a mark.
“I can spend my day with someone who would give anything to independently get out of bed, take a shower or simply walk outside, and then I go home with a body that allows me to do all of those things,” she says. “It makes it very hard to take that for granted.”
So when she stumbled onto overlanding, it was almost like a calling.
“I saw a truck in a church parking lot with an Alu-Cab setup,” she says. “I had absolutely no idea what I was looking at, but I took a picture because I felt this insane rush through my body and this pull toward it that I couldn’t explain. So naturally, I asked ChatGPT who made it.” That rabbit hole led to Alu-Cab, which led to Tiny Rig Co. which happened to be down the road from where she lived. “I went in, saw the builds in person and just knew.”
At the time, she’d camped a handful of times in her life. “There was just something in me saying, this is it, follow this. So I trusted my intuition, and I’m very glad I did.”
Why She Goes Alone
Most overlanders pair up or roll in groups. Ana, by choice, doesn’t.
“Honestly, I go alone because I don’t want to wait for someone else to be available before I go live my life,” she says. The same perspective her work gives her about health shows up here too. She’s seen too clearly what it means to lose the ability to do this, to sit around waiting for someone else’s calendar to open up.
She typically leaves Sunday through Tuesday, chasing empty trails and quiet campsites instead of weekend crowds. “I’m going out there for the quiet, the hikes, the views and those moments where it feels like you have this incredible place almost to yourself.” And her ModCAP Camper is what makes a mid-week escape actually happen instead of staying a nice idea. “Everything has its place and my rig stays ready, so a camping trip doesn’t require me to pull everything out of storage, pack an entire setup and then put it all away again when I get home. I can have a couple of free days, grab what I need and go.”
It’s not that she’s against company. “I would absolutely love to make more friends in this space and have people join me,” she says. “But until then, I’m still going.”
A Build Made for Her Size
Ana’s rig started as a Chevy, got scrapped over oil issues, got test-driven as a few different Fords and Toyotas, and ended the search the moment she saw a Tundra TRD Pro in a parking lot. “I immediately knew that was my truck.” A test drive in a similarly built Tundra sealed it. “I love the TRD Pro exhaust. Something about hearing it start up makes me feel like a badass who somehow got a sports car and an overland truck in the same package.”
On top rides an ModCAP Camper with a ModCAP Rear Door Kitchen, alongside Goose Gear storage, the Shadow Awning, the Shower Cube, King suspension, an onboard ARB compressor, recovery gear, a small arsenal of Snow Peak equipment, and “probably more Baja Designs lighting than one person needs.” Solar panels and an auxiliary battery keep the fridge, lights, and electronics running without ever touching the truck battery. “It gives me so much freedom when I’m off-grid because the sun is basically keeping my little home on wheels going.”
The Detail That Matters
The entire rig was built around a woman who’s 5’4″ and intends to run it solo.
“Because I’m 5’4″ and doing everything myself, I think there’s also some curiosity around how I’m going to manage such a big setup alone,” she says. “I like showing that part because hopefully it makes it feel a little less intimidating.” Ana worked directly with the team at Tiny Rig Co. to make her rig work for her. This includes a carabiner-and-cord trick that gives her better leverage on the awning without climbing up and down. As well as her Little Giant ladder she now uses constantly.
Little design details do the rest of the work. Locking the rooftop tent from the inside. Dedicated storage for the small stuff like an eye mask, earplugs, pocket knife… so nothing is ever loose and hunted for in the dark.
Stuck in the Mud, and Out of It
Confidence is typically built in overcoming a moment that looks like a disaster.
For Ana that was when she found herself stuck at a campsite with no obvious way out. “I remember looking at it thinking, okay, now what?” A friend talked her through airing down and working the steering wheel to flatten the mud under the tires. The campsite owner had a winch standing by, but Ana wanted to try freeing herself first “because I knew there wouldn’t always be someone nearby with a winch to save me.”
She got out. She’d also broken her sway bar links in the process, and the same campsite owner taught her how to temporarily zip-tie them rather than simply fixing it for her. “He didn’t do it for me, he taught me how to do it, and I’m so grateful for that,” she says. “I realized I don’t need to already know how to solve every problem. I just need to stay calm enough to ask questions, learn and figure out my next move.”
It’s become something close to her operating philosophy. Ask questions constantly and learn. “Don’t confuse doing it alone with having to figure everything out alone,” she says. Ana’s walked into retail, outdoor and 4×4 stores and told employees flat out: “I’m new at this, treat me like I know nothing. Tell me what people usually forget or learn the hard way.” One of those conversations taught her that a satellite communicator is useless without an active subscription. A detail that stuck precisely because someone else had learned it the hard way first. “I would much rather ask someone ten questions that seem obvious than find out the answer when I’m alone with no service.”
A Belgian Malinois Named Logan
Ana says it’s hard to imagine doing what she does without her beloved adventure buddy, Logan.
“Logan was built for this lifestyle before I even knew this was going to be my lifestyle,” she laughs. She got him during the pandemic specifically because she wanted a dog with enough drive to keep up with her, not one she’d have to leave behind. What she didn’t anticipate was how much his presence would change her travel experience.
“He’s incredibly aware of his surroundings,” she says. “When I’m hiking or camping somewhere unfamiliar by myself, he notices people, sounds and movement before I ever do.” He’s even solved her worst habit on trail. “I am horrible with directions. I can have AllTrails open with an offline map downloaded and still be staring at my phone trying to remember which way we came from. Logan somehow just knows.”
Logan’s also a deterrent. “He looks very tough, which I’m certainly not mad about as a woman traveling alone,” Ana says, “but underneath all of that he’s still my very spoiled little adventure buddy who would happily hike with me all morning and then spend the afternoon enjoying the AC in the backseat.”
Traveling with him does add planning. Checking trail rules, watching temperatures, steering clear of water that might carry toxic algae, sometimes trading a campsite for a dog-friendly Airbnb when the day’s excursion doesn’t allow him. It’s a trade-off she makes without hesitation. “He adds a little more planning and quite a bit more gear, but I love having my adventure buddy with me.”
What People Assume, and What Actually Happens
Ana is matter-of-fact about the reactions a petite woman gets when she shows up solo with a truck this size. People on group trips who want to jump in and do things for her. She’s learned to redirect it rather than refuse it outright: “I have to say, wait, teach me first. I don’t want to prove that I can do everything myself. I just want to know how to do it myself when I need to.” (She learned that lesson after letting someone else set up her campfire gear once, then standing alone at the next site staring blankly at the same connections.)
Some of it is less kind. An instructor once told her, in front of a room of strangers, that she didn’t need a CCW, she needed a man. Comment sections ask if she’s heard of serial killers. Strangers on trail tell her she really shouldn’t be out here alone. “Me needing help with directions does not mean I shouldn’t be there,” she says. “I’m terrible with directions whether I’m camping alone or trying to find my car in a parking lot.”
Her line on risk is clean: “Being aware of risk does not mean I have to be afraid to live my life. I’m always open to advice that helps me become safer or more prepared, but there’s a big difference between giving someone useful knowledge and giving them another reason to be scared.”
The Content, and Why It Lands
If you follow Ana online, you’ve seen the videos of her operating the ModCAP and Shadow Awning. Her rig turning into a home for the night and folding itself back into a truck the next morning. The response has been enormous, and Ana has a theory why.
“I think it brings people into the whole experience of camping, even if they’re just watching from their phone,” she says. “There’s something really wholesome and nostalgic about pulling into a campsite, opening everything up, turning your truck into this little home for the night, enjoying it, and then packing it all back up for the next adventure.” For people who’ve never camped, she hopes it’s an invitation. For people figuring out their own setups, she hopes it’s a cheat sheet. “That’s honestly how I’ve learned so much too. Seeing how other people organize their rigs, what gear they use and all the little things they’ve figured out.”
And the size of her, next to the size of her setup, is clearly part of the draw — she knows it, and she leans into it on purpose. “I think there’s also some curiosity around how I’m going to manage such a big setup alone,” she says. “I like showing that part because hopefully it makes it feel a little less intimidating. You don’t have to know everything when you start.”
What’s Still Out There
For everything Ana has already figured out, she’s refreshingly honest about what still makes her nervous — in the good way. Dispersed camping on BLM land is next on her list: fully off-grid, no amenities, nobody curating who else might be nearby. She’s been using Hipcamp as a stepping stone, remote enough to scratch the itch, private enough to feel safer doing it solo. “BLM land feels like my next step. I just need to get a little more comfortable with the idea that there may be absolutely nobody around… or that the person who is around might not necessarily be another camper.”
She’s also chasing more technical off-road skill — four-high, four-low, reading a line, understanding exactly what her truck can and can’t do before she finds out the hard way. A WOLFBOX camera and portal axles are on the upgrade list. Rock crawling is the long-term goal, with half her advisors telling her she can absolutely do it and the other half warning that her rig is too heavy and she’ll tip over. “Hopefully as I make more friends in this space, I’ll have people to explore some of those more technical and remote areas with while I keep building my skills.”
It’s the same pattern that’s carried her this whole way: notice the pull, trust it, and go figure out the rest on the road. Ana Perez is 5’4″. She’s also out there, alone, running a rig most people need two sets of hands for, teaching herself everything from mud recovery to awning leverage, and inviting a few hundred thousand strangers to watch her do it. Big life. Exactly the size she wanted it.
Follow Ana’s adventures on Instagram at @anaoffgrid.