'Kim' from Marin County says parking one’s live-in vehicle at campgrounds is the safest and most affordable way to exist houseless
Kim says it was important to have this time for herself. She planned to take a long trip around the country visiting friends and family she hadn’t seen for years. Then she planned to return to California and live in her decked-out bus. She isn’t alone in this dream of freedom and respite from the costs of modern life via a home on wheels. Many single women have begun to go onto social media pages to describe their newfound freedom, sans the “sticks and bricks” of a regular home. They are setting up their cars, vans and campers to live and travel in. They call themselves van lifers, car dwellers or nomads. Whether they’re in it for the fun and freedom, to save money while traveling or both, they represent a growing trend of solo women who are moving around in and sleeping in their vehicles. Having a vehicle they can live in means avoiding not only the high costs of housing, but also the price of hotel rooms. In social media posts they are often the first to admit they are still fortunate. Although they might prefer things were more affordable and they could maintain their “sticks and bricks” homes as well as a life of travel, they aren’t going hungry. There are still challenges that might not occur to a person before trying this lifestyle. Kim says that when her bus has broken down it was always at least $1,000 to get it repaired. Since it was her home, that also meant she had to stay elsewhere until it was fixed. While experiencing moments of hardship that come with living in a vehicle, Kim says it reminds her that there are people doing this who have no other options beyond living in their vehicles and are trying to hold down a full-time job. “I don't think that there's any statistics on this,” Kim says. “There's nobody following this as a research project. These are not women who are going into shelters and so they aren’t being counted. I would never go to a shelter, because I don't feel homeless. I'm houseless or landless.” Kim says she wouldn't want to take those kinds of resources
Kim transformed a school bus into a home when her pension and Social Security earnings still weren’t enough to cover the cost of housing
away from other people. “I have some income,” she says. “I have my pension and I have my Social Security, or I have credit cards. But there are people who have pretty much zero.” Even so, eyebrows still go up when close family and friends are told. “My kids thought I was a bit crazy, but they came around to being supportive of their avant-garde nomad mother,” Kim says. She has since sold the bus and is living in a much smaller vehicle and says there are many ways that this is easier, like trying to find parking. She spent the past year finishing the trek she had started after retiring. Kim has enjoyed traveling, visiting friends and family as well as the many beautiful spots along her route and she’s met new and interesting people. But she says she’s tired now and although she’d like to be in “sticks and bricks” again, money is a consideration. She’s looking into options that might be affordable enough for her to manage, like a small community of like-minded people living in tiny houses. But for now, she’s one of the many uncounted members of a population that is hiding in plain sight because housing costs are simply too high. Charlene from Sonoma County. Charlene moved to Sonoma County in the early 1990s. She grew up in Florida but her family has deep roots in the Petaluma area—her grandparents owned a ranch where they raised chickens. She had visited them a lot as a child and had grown fond of the area. Charlene chuckles gently as she describes the fun she had as a child in the “Egg Capital of the World.” “My grandmother snuck me away and got my ears pierced in downtown Petaluma at Linch jewelry store, which used to be next
December 2024
NorthBaybiz 25
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