n some ways, camping isn’t the relatively inexpensive lifestyle it used to be. I know, you can say that about anything when inflation is running at 8% a year or more — but campgrounds have really turned up the wick, pricewise, in the last few years as a pandemic-fueled surge in RV ownership led to an even bigger chasm between available campsites and potential campers.

It’s not for nothing that industry publications the likes of RVBusiness and Woodall’s Campground Magazine have carried stories about recent groundbreakings on new RV parks and resorts oftentimes bankrolled by major corporations, private investors and even trusts. These folks are used to making money, and when they see many RV parks and resorts bumping nightly fees by 10%, 20% or more annually — to say nothing of such things as implementing the same sort of “dynamic pricing” the RV industry once held up as yet another reason to forego vacations by planes, cruise ships, hotels and car rental agencies — they see dollar signs.

So, yeah, that can pinch a wallet.

So, too, can the topsy-turvy price of fuel, especially diesel, which has been all over the board recently.

These costs, though, can be tempered at least in part by spending some time on the road boondocking, planning vacations with stops at campgrounds that don’t have all the bells, whistles and water parks and, when need be, limiting trip distances. Heck, some of us have always done this.

Recently, however, I read a rather plaintive posting on one of the RV-centric social media groups I monitor that really hammered home just how unprepared some “newbies” are who may have jumped into the lifestyle as a safer way to vacation, or as employers loosened their reins and began allowing for remote working. The author wrote of possibly having to give up his fifth wheel — which, as is the norm for a newer vehicle loan, he was upside-down on — but noted that it was the other costs associated with RVing, combined with some unnamed unforeseen circumstances, that seemed to be forcing his hand: primarily storage, insurance and a truck payment.

My first thought was that he should not have leaped into a lifestyle he may not have fully researched first, but then I got to wondering: how many others have done the same thing? The costs he complained about are nothing new, although many municipalities have in recent years outlawed parking RVs on the street or even on private property if they aren’t fully enclosed with a fence.

So, I’ll give him a mulligan on that one, because you almost need to take out a second mortgage on your brick-and-mortar home to pay storage costs in such places. Heck, RV Enthusiast Publisher Bob Livingston recalled paying $400 a month for indoor storage of his truck and camper while living in Ventura, California — and that was years ago.

As for the rest, what the aforementioned RVer came to grips with is the little-acknowledged flipside to RV ownership. Because, yes, an RV vacation is still the cheapest way to travel — when you are only factoring in the costs of the vacation. But RV ownership doesn’t stop once the trip is over. Owners continue to write monthly checks on their RV and tow vehicle (or maybe their dinghy), along with paying for insurance and registration (licenses) on both, throughout the year. Factor those constant payments into the equation and RV vacations really aren’t the cheapest way to get away.

But they still are the most comfortable. RVers can still travel where they want, when they want, in their own home. And that, my friends, continues to be well worth the price of admission.

For example, I asked Livingston — who is something of a nomad inasmuch as he spends nearly half the year on the road in his Grand Design Reflection fifth wheel with his wife, Lynne, and their Standard Poodle, Reba — to jot down some numbers on what it takes to enjoy the freedom espoused in those wonderful Go RVing promotions. According to his figures, the Livingston Clan spent a total of $13,780 for their five-month odyssey in the summer of 2021 (2022 doesn’t count, since they stayed with their son in Nevada for much of the season). As Livingston noted, while those costs didn’t include insurance and license fees or require monthly vehicle payments — the “givens” — they did encompass everything else: fuel, site fees, food, entertainment, LP-gas and repairs.

“Food can bring up the cost significantly, but since you have to eat anyway it may be unfair to consider basic food costs as part of any trip expense,” he admitted. “But it is cheaper to cook your own at an RV park than to constantly go out to eat.” By occasionally using his Elks Club benefit and Harvest Hosts membership — both of which offer free (or cheap) overnight stays — he also was able to offset visits to more expensive campgrounds, keeping the nightly site cost to an average of $60/night.

One thing he did stress, however, was the need for RVers to develop a working knowledge of their rigs. While some costs can’t be curtailed — he paid $700 to replace a few blown tires, along with $300 for truck service — a slideout repair he effected himself would have sent his “account payables” skyward had he needed to dock the fifth wheel for a few days at a repair shop.

Granted, Livingston’s out-of-pocket expenses for his five-month excursion could easily be whittled down by a bit of judicious shopping — he’s something of a gourmet, even when on the road, and fresh fish costs more than ground beef — and staying at parks for a longer period. For example, the Elkhart (Indiana) Campground near my office is extremely popular with travelers, not only because of its proximity to so many RV-related locations but because its hands-on owners ensure the property is kept up and the noise is kept down. You can book a 50-amp site there for a reasonable $55/night — or cut that cost nearly in half by staying a month.

But what the heck — when you go on the road, you want to enjoy yourself and make memories. Besides, Livingston’s five-month, 8,000-mile journey cost him about $92 a day. That’s a cheap price to pay for the memories that come with touring America.

I hope that chagrined RVer finds a way to keep that fifth wheel and make his own.