April 12, 2022
The nature of vanlife in California has felt distinctly different to us than in any other state we have visited. First, campervans seem to far out number RVs. The demographic is different too. On the whole, the vanliving population seems to be groovier and more monied. Customized upscale camp/adventure vans (in particular the Winnebago Travatos, which have a starting price around $200k) have been common sights on the California highways.
If you consider the realities of living in California on the whole —it makes some sense; real estate costs are incredibly high (as is much else: gas, taxes, etc.) and much of the population of the state is concentrated in urban megalopolis centers like San Diego, Los Angeles and San Francisco. Frankly, if you can afford to live well in one of these higher cost cities and you want get away to the great outdoors - of which California has an abundance of - it seems very possible that you might invest in an upscale campervan to explore the state and beyond.
Van or not, it is clear to us that spending time in nature is an essential part of the Californian culture. Car/tent camping is equally popular. We have seen more families with kids, or car caravans with groups of friends camping together in California than anywhere else. We have also seen bunches of modest surfer vans, and classic VW bus campers that harken back to California’s freewheeling hippie culture.
The fact is Californians just seem to dig their vans - of all stripes - as a means to walk, hike, bike, kayak, ski, surf and swim in the great outdoors.
And just as we got accustomed to boondocking and free camping out in the deserts, the rules changed! California State Park camping is notoriously difficult to reserve. Demand for sites far outstrips supply. In addition, public land camping is less common, especially along the coast. Most of our California camping was booked in advance and even so, we were often late to the game and were closed out of a few of our first choice of campgrounds when we did our planning. One thing we noticed is that the California State Park campgrounds often have open areas that might easily be converted into additional camping slots, given how popular and booked out they are. But California also seems to have a culture of stewardship; protecting and preserving its beautiful places— in this respect it is both a curse and a blessing.
As a result, because the California campgrounds are so full, the whole camping experience is far more “communal”. You WILL have next-door neighbors! At a recent stay at Sugarloaf Ridge, we were next to a group of eight young tech professionals from Los Gatos, tent camping out of a shiny white BMW. They admired our van and marveled at our journey. They also seemed particularly blown away at the idea of not having internet signal for significant chunks of time (“Wow, that’s gotta be tough, man!”). They invited us to their campfire, replete with guitars and tambourines… and, yes, bongos.
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8ede9d74-c396-4d39-bb2a-b4cd428a5afb_4032x3024.jpeg)
The following day, we chatted with another group on our loop. One couple had a van adorned with a namaste quotation on the back and a friendly rescue dog, Frieda. They were up from Sacramento and introduced us to the other couple they were camping with. We ended up exchanging van details and took tours of each other’s vans. The banter was easy. As it turns out, we were all 53 years old— classic Gen Xers. We had an instant affinity and a likemindedness about exiting the work force (or at least working differently) and getting out on the road to explore. The second couple were counting down another two years until their youngest finishes high school and is off to college so that they can do some extended travel. They were diving down the rabbit hole of vanlife, watching videos and researching information on the internet as we had done! Again, our neighbors invited us to hang at their campfire and join them for wine.
We had a similar experience at our next campsite, Elk Prairie State Park, a campsite in the drop-dead, stunningly gorgeous old growth redwood forest. Tom had opened the back doors on the van to work on our battery charging system (finding the best mechanism to efficiently charge our house batteries is Tom’s current obsession). As he began his work, a steady stream of friendly van enthusiasts stopped by to admire and ask questions. First, our camp hosts, who themselves were living in a self-converted van for the past three years. Then two other sets of campers who were considering converting vans and wanted to share their plans and hear about our experiences. There was also the handlebar-mustachioed California Parks employee who took a break from his duties emptying the recycling bins to ask how we managed to fit both of our mountain bikes in less than a third of the under bed/garage space. There was even a man, driving an Audi R8, who called out half-jokingly, “Wanna trade your van for my car?“ All of these people seemed to have an admiration for van adventuring and a solid understanding of van builds. They earnestly wanted to discuss the finer details. Tom, being a good neighbor, got very little work done!
Yet, across the board, while California campgrounds themselves are hives of activity and cheerful conversation, the hiking trails around them are mostly quiet and lightly traveled. Much like how people cluster around the cities in this vast, country-sized state, camping follows a similar pattern. The campgrounds feel a bit like little communal suburbs —tightly packed and buzzing with people and human energy, but the surrounding preserved lands are so vast you feel as if you have them to yourself once you hit the trails. I will say that our California campground neighbors and Hipcamp/driveway hosts have been all been welcoming, inclusive, relaxed and good natured. It isn’t hard to see why. Who wouldn’t smile, living in a state with such diverse and epic natural beauty?
Sounds like California is in a class by itself!
I think there might be a viable business in van fitting out when you come in for a landing. Fantastic commentary, Amie. There’s a book here.