5 Types of Vehicle Nomads

Step right up, step right up! Rubber tramps on display! Trendy or trashy, whatever you think of people who live on wheels, we’re here to explore all the different kinds of people who call the road home. 

These are the 5 types of vehicle nomads. I’m referring to full-time nomads who have no other home besides their vehicle, or those who spend at least half the year living in their rigs. Now, there’s no shame in being a part-time nomad, but there is a HUGE difference between taking vacations or going camping in a rig and living in it 24/7. These descriptions are based on hundreds of full-time vehicle residents I have met in the wilderness, at vehicle nomad events and festivals, at dump stations, or simply gathered around a cactus in the middle of nowhere. 

The first few categories are broken up by rig types because choosing what rig you’re going to live in is a very personal choice based on a lot of different factors, so it can reflect the nomad’s personality well. 

Rig types also dictate your travel style; if you’re in a van and have small tanks or no bathroom, you’ll be moving around a lot more or able to stealth camp versus plopping down in one spot in a big RV with big water tanks. Because of this difference in travel style, rigs of similar types often travel together, since they can match each other’s pace and rhythm. 

This category covers hippy vans, decked-out Sprinters, mini-vans, anything that can park in a single standard parking spot. 

Stereotype: Instagram influencer

Reality: Van life can be one of the more challenging types of road life simply because of the very small footprint. You have to give up almost all creature comforts, which is why van life tends to skew towards a younger crowd. 

And yes, cute vans are one of the most photogenic rigs, so they are most popular on social media and most likely to be featured in lazy articles about how liberating or life-ruining vehicle residency is. Vans are also the most likely rig to be co-opted by influencer grifters, people who pretend to live in a van to sell a romantic version of the lifestyle and themselves, while actually only going out in short stints for photo shoots. (Hint: If you’ve followed an Insta vanlifer and part of their life doesn’t seem sustainable or logical, it’s because it’s not real! Your other clue is if their account is mostly pictures of a woman's butt as she lays on her cute van bed and gazes into the landscape.)

Many professional van builds and the BMW and Sprinter vans are VERY expensive (think $100k+), so sometimes there is an economic divide between these crowds and other vehicle nomads. Coming together despite differing financial backgrounds is something the vehicle nomad community is very good at, but between fancy builds and the Instagram stigma, sometimes ‘vanlifer’ can sometimes have a slightly negative or bougie connotation. 

However, meet a few and you’ll find most are fun, down-to-earth people who are ready for adventure. Many van builds are self-built and can be as simple as a bed and kitchen setup in a minivan. Others, also crafted out by their owners, display incredible artistry and creativity. The van/regular car type of setup is the most accessible to a vehicle nomad just starting out, and once you let go of Instagram aesthetics, the possibilities are endless for any budget. 

Truck campers also fall into this category, being very small and mobile, but their demographic falls somewhere in between your average vanlifer and RVer, with a bent towards especially outdoorsy folks. 

Skoolies are often converted school buses, but this term encapsulates every kind of bus-turned-home, as well as other alternative, large conversions, like ambulances. Though a Class-A motorhome and a skoolie seem very similar from the outside, through convergent evolution, they are very different beasts with very different inhabitants. 

Stereotype: Hippies, giant homeschooled families

Reality: Skoolie-dwellers are dreamers. They have a massive blank slate to transform and a rig that is second-hand and comes with a plethora of maintenance and auto-repair. Many skoolie nomads I know have been stranded in one place or another while they wait for specific bus parts or specialists to work on their rig. 

It may not be the most practical home on wheels, but it allows you to fully express yourself. The hard work and customization that goes into a skoolie gives you a badge of honor, driving one of the coolest rigs on the road that stands out among the others. 

I’ve been inside $200k converted skoolies, with resin-poured, custom cut hardwood countertops and Mediterranean-tiled showers and I’ve also been inside skoolies that are simply a bus shell, with a mattress thrown in the back. Regardless of how much money they’ve poured in, most people I’ve met in a skoolie are some kind of artist or creative type. 

Because of their size and the fact that they can be fitted to squeeze a large number of people inside, it’s true that if a skoolie pulls up next to me, there’s a 50/50 chance at least five children will come pouring out. This can sometimes make vehicle nomads a bit wary of skoolies, as the kids will be homeschooled and thus around all the time. Even more intimidating are the skoolie families caravanning together, so that if you end up parked next to a skoolie fleet, you will basically be living next to a 24/7 playground.

The skoolie demographic skews younger, with artsy couples or young families. They are more likely to be boondocking because of rig restrictions at campgrounds and they thrive in a festival atmosphere. Don’t be afraid to ask to see inside their bus, they usually love showing it off!

Stereotype: Older retirees and yuppies

Reality: There’s some confusion among sticks and bricks folks about what an RV is, so let me lay it out for you: RVs include everything called a ‘camper,’ ‘trailer,’ or ‘motorhome.’ You got the towables- travel trailers, fifth wheels, etc, and the driveables- Class As and Cs (Class Bs are in the Van category).

Living in an RV is one of the most traditional and long-running (since 1915!) forms of vehicle residency. Long before any kind of hashtags appeared online, someone’s grandparents were in an RV down by the river. This history is one of the things that gives RVing an association with older folks- it’s a common dream to retire and drive around America in an RV. Depending on the type of RV, this is also the most plush way to live on the road, allowing for the most comfort and space.

The first RV- I guess you could technically say it’s a skoolie!

I think RVers are the most practical of our motley crew of stereotypes here. They choose something already made for the full-time life (even if poorly so) that can be modified to your heart’s desire but is the closest to a functioning house you can quickly get on the road. 

When I look back on my own journey in choosing a rig type, I initially lusted after the cute vans and tiny homes (another beautiful, non-mobile alternative), but balked at the prices and/or personal labor they demanded. I realized I could run around in circles trying to reinvent the wheel, or I could select a very affordable home on wheels that already existed. 

Still an RV is more often expensive than a mini-van or a bus shell, and luxury fifth wheels and motorhomes can carry the same bougie stigma as a pro-built Sprinter. However, no nomad is complaining when they get to hang out in the massive living room (or even the shadow, we’re not picky) of one of these rigs and benefit from some creature comforts, if just for an evening. 

Though RVs are no longer the sole domain of retirees, their occupants do tend to be older than the starry-eyed youths of van world. Couples in their 30s and 40s make up the ‘working age’ class of full-time RVers, often needing the extra space of the rigs for home offices as they work online.

Stereotype: Walter White cooking meth in the middle of the desert

Reality: Boondocking is the practice of living off-grid on public land for free. Frequent boondockers are scrappy and frugal. There are some vehicle nomads who boondock exclusively, scoffing at the idea of paying to simply park somewhere. ‘The principle of the thing’ is a way of life- the thousands of dollars of solar panels, lithium batteries, and starlink are well worth never paying $25 for a campsite. 

Many boondockers are desert rats, thriving on the expanse of BLM lands in the Southwest. Out of the desert comes a funky subculture of survivalists, artists, rockhounds, and lots of people who play with fire and beat drums. There is a shared camaraderie over off-grid living and boondockers are quick to lend a hand to one another and commiserate. They will talk until the end of days about resource gathering and toilets. 

This need to constantly be mapping resources- water collection, dumping, solar power- transcends rig types and you’ll find every kind gathered in the wilderness. The vehicle nomad who lstays exclusively in RV resorts and a consistent boondocker will be living very different lives with very different communities. 

This is a crucial category to acknowledge because while many road nomads (myself included) are vehicle residents by choice, there is a large part of our population that has moved into a home on wheels because they can’t afford stick and brick housing. As housing costs rise in the US, more and more people are living out of their cars.

Stereotype: Scary homeless people

Reality: Many vehicle residents experience  ‘invisible homelessness’ where they lead productive, normal lives, but after work instead of returning to a house, they are sleeping in their vehicle, after finding a safe place to park for the night. 

Others are less hidden, especially in cities on the West Coast, where some streets are lined with vehicle resident communities. Many vehicle residents by necessity live in urban areas, so they have access to amenities that make their lives possible. Safe parking programs are a useful resource to help metro-area vehicle residents have a place to stay in relative safety, with bathroom facilities and other services. 

The desert also offers a free haven to these folks, offering a little more peace and safety, as well as solidarity with other boondockers and a scrappy, welcoming community. 

But something many have in common with other wheeled nomads is that they consider their vehicle their home. Offers to move people out of their RVs or cars and into homeless shelters can be seen as insulting. Many of us feel the same way- we are not homeless. We have a home! It just has tires. 

There are multiple resources available for vehicle residents by necessity to find financial aid, community, and advocacy:

Home of Wheels Alliance- a non-profit and community led by famous nomad, Bob Wells, dedicated to enhancing the lives of nomads.

National Vehicle Residency Collective- a network of vehicle residents, social service providers, and legal experts joining together to support people living in their vehicles.

Van Aid- a semi-informal desert gathering where volunteers help people in need build out their rigs.

I’m a believer that vehicle residents by choice should do what they can to help vehicle residents by necessity, even if it’s as simple as helping to destigmatize living in a car. We understand the unique lifestyle and all its challenges and are in a position to offer the unique help people might need from our own learned experiences. 

At Home Wherever We Go

Of course, silly stereotypes aside, vehicle nomads are all sorts of wonderful, interesting people who make up one of the most unique subcultures in America. We are not a monolith and fill out every political, economic, professional, and social spectrum. 

Really, what could divide vehicle nomads the most is the wide range of economic status and ability different people of different rig types have. However, time and time again, I’ve seen nomads congregate in wide open wilderness and come together, whether in a $1,000 rig or a $100,000 one. We all understand the challenges of living on the road- managing our resources, finding a spot to park, dealing with breakdowns. We have chosen a path of relative freedom, with emphasis on community, nature, and new adventures. 

My fellow nomads- what do you think? Did I miss anything? Think I’m wrong? Come out to the desert and tell me! I’ll be by the Lit Cactus.