We have traveled a great deal this summer, and one of the most profound discoveries I have made is the difference between full-time RVing and “living in a trailer.” We have stayed in a number of campsites, some of which are also RV parks. That, we have learned, means “seasonals live here.” Seasonals live for months or years in the park. They build decks and gazebos around their trailers and they hang all sorts of cute knick-knacks on the outside, from flags through to “bless this mess” type signs. Some seasonal trailers are used as weekend cottages, but others are lived in full time.
Now I do not want to say anything bad about seasonal trailer living generally. Staying in one place is probably just as enjoyable to seasonal residents as moving on is to me. It’s like arguing which color is better – blue or green. It all comes down to personal taste.
But I find something distressing in seeing a trailer sink slowly into the grass, buried under garden furniture, and in some cases, sprouting a layer of moss and even shrubbery on the neglected roof and exterior walls. To me, a trailer has wheels on it for a reason. It has been designed to move. To see it rooted in place makes me think of a caged animal. I feel trapped.
The people I like to follow online, like Wheelin’ It, Two Hearts and Two Wheels, Technomadia and a few others, all report back their discoveries – from boondocking to comfy parks – but they are always somewhere new and exciting. They feed my wanderlust, and I take careful note of where they have been so I can add their best locations to my own travel plans.
Now, when I review any park, I pay close attention to the maps to see how many seasonals they have and whether the “transients” as we are so pejoratively called, have our own space. I thrive on the contagious energy of my fellow travelers
Again, no disrespect to seasonals. It’s a just as much a lifestyle choice as is my nomadic life. But if I can’t see clear under your trailer to the other side, I probably won’t be seeing you further down the road.