The campground is a microcosm of the outside world, each with its own rules, structure, and gathering spots. In some parks, it seems like everyone knows each other and you’ll see shared meals at the central picnic table or evening beers and a boom box playing by the firepit in front of the “party camper.” In others, no one knows their neighbors and suspicion takes the place of community. It gets quiet after dark and you only hear private murmurings floating in stereo in the night air around you.
I wanted to photograph the unexpected beauty of the RV terrain and the inhabitants whom I imagined ditching their day jobs, going off the grid to live on their own terms, drawn together by a shared way of living. What I often found instead were people setting up temporary spaces that turned to permanent homes when they had no other options. A family of four living in a 150-square-foot camper; a man on disability who spends eighteen-hour days selling nascar trading cards on eBay; a group of construction workers paying month-to-month while working on a building job nearby; a high school girl who wants to be an actress and study in Oxford.