Seeking Freedom, Young Adults Fuel RV Lifestyle Boom—But the New American Dream Isn’t All Perks

Cover image: Kaelan and Daniel Young in their converted cargo van, in which they live full-time. Photo by Cody Jutovsky.

The median age of RV owners keeps creeping down, signaling a deep shift in cultural values and socioeconomic trends.  

Michele DeVries and her husband went to college, got good jobs, started a business, and bought a house. Standing in that house, hardly a few weeks into unpacking and home improvement projects, the couple asked one another: “Is this it?”

It was strange, DeVries recounts. “Almost immediately after we bought our first house, I had this totally unexpected feeling of, ‘Oh. We’ve arrived.’” No more, no less, DeVries says—just apathy toward a thing that should have been highly celebratory. 

“We felt so unfulfilled by it,” she says. “Almost right out of the gates, we were asking ourselves, ‘What else can we do?’” 

The DeVries, who ultimately jumped into full-time road life, are far from alone in their failure to find fulfillment through the traditional American pathway. With the median RV ownership age dipping to 49 in 2025, and 16% of RV owners falling into the 18-34 age range according to data from the RV Industry Association (RVIA), it’s clear that younger Americans are craving more than the American dream offers.

A New American Dream

The DeVries’ truck camper set up in the desert. Photo courtesy Michele DeVries.

Traditional homeownership is losing appeal among millennials and Generation Z. Faced with rising housing costs, a hunger for flexibility, and growing interest in outdoor recreation and remote work, many are turning to RV ownership and nomadic lifestyles. 

Driven By a Crisis

“‘The American Dream is dead’” is uttered a lot amongst millennial vanlifers,” says Cody Rodriguez, assistant professor of anthropology and sociology at Southwestern Oregon Community College and PhD candidate at the University of Melbourne.

“It is not so much a rejection of the idea of homeownership, but a reflection on the bitter reality of buying a home being completely out of reach,” Rodriguez says. “Mediocre houses that were somewhere around $100,000 in 2021 are now three or four times that price in 2025. There is no place in the United States where a single person can afford rent on minimum wage. For these younger generations, the American dream of homeownership is more of an ‘American delusion.’” 

It’s certainly not a secret that the U.S. is undergoing a housing affordability crisis. In 2025, a full-time worker needs to earn more than $33 per hour to afford a basic two-bedroom home in the U.S., and more than $28 per hour for a one-bedroom home. Yet the average wage earned by renters falls short of both of these figures at $23.60, according to data from the National Low Income Housing Coalition. 

The federal minimum wage, stagnant at $7.25 for more than 15 years, does not even come close to supporting the needs of renters, let alone allowing for saving for future homeownership. (Twenty states still default to the federal minimum wage, mostly in the South.)

According to Elena Novak, lead researcher at PropertyChecker.com, “The median home price in many areas has risen to an astronomical high, ranging from $500,000 to $800,000. Most young people just starting out cannot afford such a high price tag.”

Nick Vivion bought a dually and a fifth wheel after being priced out of his rental home in Palm Springs, CA. Having lived in the home for three years, Vivion planned to buy it from his landlord in 2020, but was outdone during the bidding wars of the COVID-19 era. 

Vivion, who says he’s always been “the wandering type,” decided to put his down payment into an RV and hit the road with his partner. 

Vivion sits on his dually pickup truck in front of his fifth wheel RV at a campground. Photo courtesy Nick Vivion.

A Reach for Affordable Living

Data from the 2025 RV Owner Demographic Profile, commissioned by the RVIA, show that 6% of RV owners use their RV for a median of 365 days a year—in other words, this 6% lives in their RV. How many of these owners adopted full-time RV living for financial reasons specifically is not known, but the financial upside of forgoing brick-and-mortar housing is a known draw for full-timers.

“My husband and I took to the road largely to minimize our expenses,” says DeVries.

“You still have to make the right choices,” she adds—her top tips include cooking for yourself, choosing low-cost or free campsites on public land, and following the weather to minimize fuel used for climate control—but she has ultimately found it easier to spend far less in an RV than a house or apartment.

By living small and boondocking, the DeVries manage to save more money than they could in a traditional brick-and-mortar home. Photo courtesy Michele DeVries.

Still, DeVries and her husband haven’t felt spared from rapid post-pandemic inflation. “We still feel the strain, in the sense that groceries and day-to-day stuff are so much more expensive,” she says. “But I’m so glad we’re not paying for a mortgage and home repairs on top of all of that.” 

If full-timers have the privilege to choose when and how they begin their full-time vanlife journey, Rodriguez says, some may do so as a way of repackaging the American Dream into a more affordable, mobile version. “Others may not see it as an end in itself, but a means to eventually find a way to achieve the traditional dream,” he adds.

Even staying in established campgrounds and using RV club memberships, Vivion found RV life to be more affordable than homeownership in a lot of ways. “You might pay $1,000 up front for something like a Thousand Trails membership, but when you’ve been paying $2,500 a month for rent, what’s $1,000 when you no longer have rent to pay?” 

Vivion’s rig set up at a campsite in Lakehills, Texas. Photo courtesy Nick Vivion.

In other ways, RV living did not prove so affordable for Vivion. He and his partner faced significant repair costs, and at one point, diesel fuel became so expensive that they couldn’t justify driving their rig all over. 

He started asking himself: “What’s the point? What is the point of living in an RV if you’re not exploring, not doing a lot of things?” 

Vivion and his partner sold their fifth wheel and dually in 2024, choosing to buy a home and settle in Austin, Texas. They were able to use the funds from those sales as their down payment on the house. “The down payment kind of floated with us,” Vivion says. By taking a relatively long-term stint in an RV, he was effectively able to wait out the housing market until he was in a better position to buy a traditional home. 

A Cultural Shift 

Rodriguez’s research focuses on “full-time nomads who are betwixt-and-between living the dream of some idealized notion of vanlife and the nightmare of vehicular homelessness as a means to survive housing insecurity.” 

He’s noticed that motivations vary significantly among nomads, particularly among different generations. Burnout from overwork, alienation from a profit-driven economic system, and heartbreak or escape from a bad relationship are common narratives for all age groups, he says. Tragedy is another: Vivion’s sister’s passing from brain cancer influenced his decision to go all-in on RV life. 

For Gen X RVers, a common trigger is a realization that the material possessions they’d achieved along with the American dream did not make them happy, Rodriguez says. Meanwhile, millennials he’s met “are often trying to survive precarity and the absence of financial capital and opportunities to achieve the traditional dreams previous generations had”—unless they come from affluent families, he adds.

Motivations for nomadism vary among generations, with younger individuals prioritizing experiences and freedom over money and material possessions. Photo courtesy Kaelan and Daniel Young.

As for Gen Z, they’re “often simply trying to satisfy a wanderlust,” Rodriguez says. “Some are having fun, with their parents expecting them to come back and pursue a traditional lifestyle, while others simply do not know what to do with their lives.”

Though specific rationales for pursuing nomadism vary, Rodriguez points out that each generation has common underpinnings: “Pressures from social institutions and a ruthless economic system.”

Novak calls it a “cultural shift.” Younger adults are increasingly interested in simplifying their lives and opting out of the traditional 9-to-5 lifestyle, she says. If they can afford a smaller home by paying cash or having a smaller RV note (compared to a mortgage), it allows them the freedom to move wherever and whenever they want. 

“Later generations are increasingly leaning towards a debt-free existence. When they look at starter homes costing $500,000 versus an RV for $30,000, it’s an easy choice,” Novak says. “They can own their own home and go anywhere for much less.”

“Basically,” she adds, “they are not interested in working 40-plus hours a week just to support a home.”

The Allure of Freedom and Fulfillment

For many, it’s not about the money. Even those who maintain traditional homes are spending more time in their RVs: Another 8% use their RVs for more than three months out of the year on average, a nod toward the growing desire to separate oneself from the demands of everyday life as often as possible.

Nicole Bonilla formerly worked in corporate software sales for a New York City-based company. After four years of holding down this “adult job” and leading a successful life in the big city, Bonilla had “a total quarter-life crisis.” 

“I just knew there had to be more to life than this,” she says. “I knew I couldn’t do that for the rest of my life.” 

Bonilla says she was disillusioned with her work. “I want to do work that matters and something that contributes to the greatest good in some kind of way, and that job did none of those things.”

So, after saving up a year’s worth of expenses, Bonilla sold nearly everything she owned, waved au revoir to her life in New York, and set out in her Subaru Forester. 

Nicole Bonilla’s Subaru Forester, in which she lived and traveled for more than a year. Photo courtesy Nicole Bonilla.

For more than 12 months, she lived out of her SUV, traveling around the continental U.S. as a then-novice outdoorsperson. Though Bonilla’s adventure lasted just over a year, and her mode of travel fell outside the realm of recreational vehicles, her experience has a common denominator with those of other early-career professionals: a growing need for fulfillment from one’s life. 

Kaelan Young, a vanlifer who works in marketing, quit her job as a teacher to start traveling with her husband, Daniel, in 2020. “We felt bored and unfulfilled,” she says. “We just knew there was more to life than what we were doing.” 

Because they were living off of savings, they traveled for a year and then settled down in Boise, Idaho, where they both got new jobs. The two decided to travel again after Daniel suffered a bicycle accident in September 2022. The incident shifted their perspective on life once again, leading them to jump back into full-time road life. 

“We had kept our van, thankfully, and decided to hit the road full-time again after he recovered,” she says. “Because life is too short, and young people are realizing that.” 

Kaelan and Daniel now both work remotely from their campervan, in which they’ve been living since August 2023. “We both feel incredibly grateful to work remote jobs at companies that value flexibility and freedom,” Kaelan says.

Kaelan Young works from the converted cargo van she shares with her husband, Daniel. Photo courtesy Kaelan and Daniel Young. 

Infrastructure and Policy Challenges for Full-Time RVers 

Full-time nomadism has many perks: freedom, mobility, and lower expenses, to name just a few. But ask any full-timer, especially those who prefer to stay outside of established campgrounds on public land and/or within city limits: It’s not all sunshine and rainbows. 

“Many states do not recognize RVs as primary residences, and certain zoning restrictions prevent owners from parking them wherever they want,” says Novak. Plus, “with lenders tightening their belts, they may be reluctant to loan money for an RV and view it as a poor investment with little return.” The latter precludes many who need financing for purchasing RVs, even if they’d be able to afford the monthly note once out of traditional housing. 

In cities, parking bans on recreational vehicles or motorhomes are increasingly common, even in areas where only daytime parking is allowed, anyway.  For instance, the city of San Francisco imposed a new law in July 2025 banning RVs from parking anywhere within city limits for more than two hours. Oftentimes, simply running errands takes longer than two hours, especially in areas where you must park and walk to different stores and services.

In San Francisco, officials have introduced RV parking vans to break up the presence of motor homes in the city. Photo byLeo Bayard onUnsplash.

“Such bans and ordinances are cruel,” says Rodgriguez. “In my opinion, such regulations show the most privileged in our communities are grasping for dear life to what little power they have left in the face of a broken economic system that has yielded the widest wealth gap in the history of this country.” 

San Francisco’s ban was meant “to break up the overwhelming presence of those we could consider ‘vehicular homeless,’” Rodriguez says. “But the enforcement of such bans tend to blur vanlife and vehicular homeless, leaving both groups vulnerable to harassment by police and locals alike.”

Of course, stationing one’s RV in established RV campgrounds is one effective way of avoiding targeted ordinances. But that brings back the affordability problem: In some locales, it can cost upward of $1,000 per month to stay in an RV park. 

The other way? Stay on public land, such as that owned by the National Forest Service or Bureau of Land Management, in remote areas. The problem with that is it requires an off-grid and off-road capable rig, which are generally much more expensive than rigs designed for paved-only places. Plus, commutes to town for errands become hours-long and the length of stay is dictated by how much food, water, and electricity your rig can store and provide. 

Boondocking, or dry camping on public land where camping is free, allows the DeVries to save money on campsite fees. Photo courtesy Michele DeVries.

No matter where nomads stay, normal life to-dos are difficult. Getting mail, managing prescriptions and healthcare, and staying connected to friends and family present a much greater challenge than they do when one is stationary.  

The Financial Tradeoffs of Homeownership vs. RV Ownership 

In so many ways, but especially from a financial aspect, owning a brick-and-mortar home and owning an RV are entirely different. “The sheer cost-effectiveness is very attractive to some buyers,” says Novak. 

While RVing full-time may make finances easier in the meantime, it’s what comes next that full-timers tend to forget about, Novak says.

“RVs depreciate quickly, and in the long term, they may incur significant maintenance costs. Typically, RVs don’t build equity and are not considered a sound real estate investment,” she says. “Houses appreciate over time prices continue to go up, they build equity, and are considered one of the more stable investment assets.” They also offer tax benefits, she adds.

In the now, RV-dwellers often save on monthly living costs and can contribute more to savings if they work on the road—but their primary asset is a depreciating one. Photo byRoadpass onUnsplash.

The tradeoff, Novak explains, is that RVs cost only a fraction of what a piece of real estate does, and it can be quicker and easier for young people to purchase. An RV loan tends to be shorter, making it easier for someone to pay it off quickly while still retaining some resale value. 

But that choosing to live small or mobile is a financial dead-end is an outdated concept, Novak says. “If the person chooses to live in an RV strategically to save money, build wealth, or invest in other types of real estate, then it is by far not a dead end,” she says. 

Notably, “If they are choosing an RV lifestyle to simplify and work less, then wealth-building may not be on their radar anyway,” Novak points out. “Later generations are increasingly leaning towards a debt-free existence. They watched their parents and grandparents work themselves to the bone for very little and want something different for themselves.”

Influencing Changes in the RV Market 

Full-time nomadism isn’t going away anytime soon, and RV manufacturers are taking note. 

Keelan Prados, owner of Maine Campah Rentals in Brewer, Maine, says that his team has seen a growing number of younger renters—millennials and Gen Zers—over the past few years. They “aren't just looking for a weekend getaway, but are testing out the RV lifestyle as a more flexible and affordable alternative to traditional housing,” Prados says. 

Many of Prados’ customers use their rental experience as a trial run before committing to full-time RV living, and some are remote workers looking to combine travel with a work-from-anywhere lifestyle.

Full-time nomads are increasingly prioritizing RV and van features that support full-time living, like kitchenettes and fully functional bathrooms. Photo byMarta Rastovac onUnsplash.

“From our perspective in the Northeast, younger buyers care less about luxury and more about functionality, energy efficiency, and off-grid capabilities,” Prados says. “We're seeing increased interest in campers with solar setups, composting toilets, and smart storage—features that support full-time use and sustainable travel.”

This trend doesn’t stop in the Northeast. Compact, lightweight campers with full-time amenities like a toilet, shower, and oven are in high demand across the country. The RV industry is starting to catch up to this demand, with more diverse floorplans, better tech integration, and a focus on both durability and modularity.

So: A New American Dream? 

One could say that vanlifers and full-time RVers are living the dream and carving out a new American Dream. In many cases, especially for those who come from relatively affluent backgrounds and are capable of making a living on the road through remote work, they genuinely are. These are people who see something wrong with the American Dream of “golden days” past. They value freedom, work-life balance, and experiences over material things like big houses and picket fences—and they’ve figured out a way to make an alternative lifestyle work for them.

#Vanlife and #roadlife are widely romanticized on the internet—and, true, it can be romantic. But not everything is as it seems on TikTok and Instagram feeds. Photo byBalkan Campers onUnsplash.

But it would be remiss not to consider those who pursue full-time nomadism out of necessity. Rodriguez begs the question: “What differentiates someone being labeled a vanlifer (privilege) or vehicular homeless (precarity)?” 

For early vanlifers in the aftermath of the 2008 housing crisis and economic recession—before #vanlife became an escapist movement in 2011—Rodriguez says the two were sort of blurred together. 

But the numbers have exponentially risen with all the cost-of-living crises that happened in the past fifteen years.  

“In my view, it is the level of mobility they possess and not simply the quality of rig they inhabit that might classify someone as ‘living the dream’ or ‘surviving the nightmare,’” Rodriguez says. “Can they afford to leave the parking spot that allowed them to rest overnight? Are they tethered to a local area due to employment, or can they afford gas prices to drive long distances to wander the open road that is so romanticized in vanlife culture?” 

In other words: Do they choose to live this lifestyle or are they forced to make do with what they have?