Boondocking is a broad term for camping and hanging out in remote areas, away from services like running water and electricity. Many people do it with an RV, I do it out of an SUV. Others prefer to use bicycles or motorcycles to get where they would like to go. This entails bringing large amounts of food, water, first-aid supplies, and everything else you need to be self sufficient.
I am a huge fan of self-reliant travel. Lodging is very expensive, so I started experimenting with ways I could camp and/or sleep in my vehicle. In time I started to fall in love with the whole process! I have gained a huge appreciation for spending time in nature and believe that there's nothing quite like rolling out of bed to the great outdoors.
Here is a couple photos of such places:
If you live in the eastern half of the United States (or in any densely populated country or city), you might be thinking that you have to pay for potentially expensive campgrounds at state parks or RV parks. Not true! The western United States and also Canada have an expansive "public land" system. In more areas than not, it's dominated by public land more so than private land. Generally speaking, any land that is managed as public land is accessible for many uses, like hunting, hiking, camping, rockhounding, and more. Most of this land is accessed by unpaved roads or trails.
Learning how to hunt for spots to hang out takes some time, but with some practice can be done using a combination of carefully studying maps and keeping a close eye on the roadside. Sometimes a spot is just barely hidden near a paved country highway, and others are much more remote and extremely peaceful. Whether you just need a quick spot to park overnight to catch some ZZZs while driving long distances, or are looking for a place to hike, backpack, and generally explore, public land has got your back.
I have used two vehicles for traveling and sleeping in, the first was a Kia Soul and the second is a Toyota Venza. The Soul required a wooden "bed" to be laid from the edge of the rear hatch over the rear seat bench, and required unbolting and removing the entire front passenger seat as well as part of the back seat that folds. Removing the front passenger seat leaves enough room for cargo both in front of and under the wooden bed. An inflatable sleeping pad is then placed on top. This is the pad I use for all my camping needs including backpacking (its available cheaper from Amazon but I will link the official site anyways):
https://klymit.com/products/insulated-static-v-sleeping-pad
The Venza is easier, with only the front seat *optionally* being removed for more cargo room. The rear seats fold down flat enough and has a long enough space to fit a whole inflatable sleeping pad without touching the seat in front of it. I removed the front seat anyways to carry more cargo.
It's worth noting that the configurations used limited passenger capacity to 0 or just 1, so I was not able to meet friends across the country *and* give them rides. No hitchhikers either!
I've encountered a lot of people while I was on the road and sometimes we talked for more than just a brief moment. I've had some people seem shocked for me to say I'd been sleeping in my car. In addition to that is the great misconception that people like me "live in their car". I don't live in my car, I live on planet Earth, and the car is just an exceptionally safe and weatherproof bed to sleep in.
Perhaps the hardest thing to cope with when living like this is the various temperatures during the extreme seasons of the year. It's not particularly good for a vehicle to be running idle to provide heat and (cold) air conditioning, so I always avoided that at all costs. In the shady alpine highlands during the summer, thats fine, because the higher up the atmosphere you go, the colder and rainier it gets, but I am naturally drawn to hot deserts. So I spent my time in the dead of summer in the Chihuahuan desert, and honestly what I found is that I got used to it after a few days of discomfort. I stayed outside, got a killer tan, and was doing just fine. The most important time to be cool is at night when sleeping, and high elevation deserts definitely do get cooler at night! So I was fine with it, I enjoyed it, I carried on.
I can't say this lifestyle is for everyone, but I love it. It's an intentional way of living while connecting to nature moreso than a cheap substitute for staying in a hotel for me. In fact, I have a story to tell about being out in the elements and nature over lodging, and this is one of the best stories I have of what has gone *wrong* when traveling like this.
One of the most dire situations I've been in while traveling was that I literally put a hole in my gas tank while driving my Kia Soul over some brush in the middle of a two-track pathway. (that means, a lightly worn vehicle trail where the plants have only died off on the spots where the tires go, with a growth of grass or brush in the center)
I was in a very remote area of Nevada when this happened and when it did, I smelled the gasoline, stopped and got out of the vehicle to investigate, and to my horror the gas tank was indeed leaking. I had no cell service, and could not call for help, so I made my way back to the nearest highway and gunned it for the nearest settlement...which was Eureka, Nevada. I got there and *still* didn't have any cell service to search for a repair shop, so I went into a gas station and asked the clerk if they knew of any repair services nearby. Before long, I was redirected to Elko, which was about a hundred miles away. I filled my gas tank to full in Eureka, hoped that the tank wasn't leaking fast enough for me to run out on the way there, and then gunned it at 75 miles per hour to the shop.
When I got to the shop, they had to keep the vehicle, and my parents being ever so kind and willing to help, they volunteered to pay for a hotel for me however long it took to get fixed. The process took about a week total, and before 2 days had gone by I got sick of the hotel. I wanted nature again, I wanted to feel the cool breeze of the mountains, so I went back to the repair shop to ask if I could get some supplies from the vehicle. I loaded up my backpacking gear with all the food I needed, and a swayer filter to safely drink the snowmelt from, and eventually got a ride to the nearby mountain range. Elko is blessed to be closely bordered by the Ruby Mountains, some of the most magnificent in the state, and up Lamoille Canyon we went until I was dropped off at the trailhead for the mountain crest trail. We arranged a rendezvous in 4 days, where I would stay in the mountains on my own until that appointed time to return to the trailhead parking.
Can I be honest? Being alone for 4 days in the mountains, free to explore and go where I wanted to, turned out to be way more bearable than staying in a "cushy" hotel. Even in June, the temperatures were still below freezing because of the elevation. The alpine lakes were still filled with huge chunks of ice, and the ground was still covered a'plenty in snow. Here's some pictures of the Ruby Mountains and the alpine lakes! In June it was still snowing...
I'm not out here to convince you that you that you should go about all by yourself into the wilderness, but I just want to make it clear that I have loved my time and my experiences out on the field. I hope that this document and the few pictures I've shared have shed some light on what I love to do.
As of this writing, May 3rd 2024, I have one more great trip planned for me. In June, I will be returning to the wilds in addition to the National Parks. As a bonus, I will also be touring The Republic Of Molossia, located near Dayton, Nevada. After that, I will be going back to school to become an HVAC technician, and when I get a job in the field, it could be many years before I have the oppurtunity to run to the wilds, espcially as far from where I live as Nevada.
I love New Mexico, I love Arizona, and I love Nevada. May these places stay blessed and stay lovely.
