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Every so often, I come across one of those YouTube videos called something like “Top 10 RV Park Etiquette Tips!” It’s usually someone in a branded hoodie, standing in front of a fifth wheel they rented for the weekend, explaining that you should “clean up after your pets” and “be considerate of noise.”
Which is fine. But it’s not especially helpful if you actually live full-time in an RV park.
This list is for the rest of us. The long-term residents. The ones who’ve spent entire seasons in one spot. The ones who know which dump station always leaks and when the campground’s quiet hours actually start. The ones who’ve developed strong opinions about wind chimes, solar lights, and the proper way to park a rig.
These probably won’t show up on laminated rule sheets. They’re the little things that make RV life bearable when you’re packed in tight. Most people aren’t trying to be rude. They just haven’t thought about what it’s like for the person living next door.
If you’re camping for a weekend, this guide to RV campground etiquette will help you avoid the stuff that makes full-timers lose their minds.
And if you’re a full-time RVer, this might feel like reading your own internal monologue.
If It Dings, Bangles, or Spits Glitter in the Wind, Maybe Don’t Hang It Outside
Personalizing your site makes sense. Most of us want to make our little patch of gravel feel like a home. But when your campsite decor includes clanging flagpoles, wind chimes, or flashing solar lights, it doesn’t stay in your space. It spreads.
Wind chimes might sound peaceful to you. But they don’t go well with quiet hours or a neighbor who’s trying to work the early shift. Bright LED lights are great for visibility. Not so great when they beam through someone’s curtains at 2 a.m.
When in doubt, walk ten feet away from your RV and ask yourself if you’d want to sleep next to whatever you just installed.
Your Bluetooth Headset Isn’t a Cone of Silence
We’ve all taken calls outside. It’s not the call that’s the problem. It’s the volume. And the assumption that no one else can hear what’s going on when we definitely, absolutely can.
When you live full-time in an RV park, your neighbors are close. If your phone’s on speaker, and you’re pacing the gravel while shouting into your headset, everyone around you is now part of your conversation. Including the guy trying to write a work email and the woman eating lunch with her door open.
It’s easy to forget how far sound carries out here. The walls are thin. The space between rigs is thinner. A little quiet goes a long way.
If you’re not sure whether something’s annoying, step ten feet away and ask yourself if you’d want to sleep next to it.
Etiquette isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being aware. Most of us don’t need a lecture. We just need a reminder that when you live ten feet apart, the little stuff becomes the big stuff.
Hollering Isn’t a Communication Strategy
It’s easy to forget how small RV parks are until someone starts yelling across the road. What feels like a quick shout to a friend ends up echoing through half the park.
It’s not about being uptight. It’s just that, in a space this compact, everything gets amplified. If you’re trying to talk to someone more than a few feet away, it’s probably worth walking over.
Or at least keeping it to a volume that doesn’t carry all the way to the laundry room.
Don’t Walk Through Someone’s Site Unless You’re Bleeding or On Fire
It might look like open space. Just a patch of grass. Or pavement. Or that strange half-dirt, half-rock situation.
But it’s still someone’s site. And walking through it is disruptive.
Most people aren’t trying to be rude. They’re just taking the shortest path to wherever they’re going. But if you wouldn’t cut through someone’s yard in a regular neighborhood, it’s worth pausing before you walk between their camp chairs.
Park in a Spot, Not Wherever Your Truck Fits
Parking in someone else’s site is an obvious no. But so is parking half on the road, blocking access to the dumpster, or wedging your truck into the gravel next to the pool like it belongs there.
If you’re not sure where to park, ask. Or look around. If nobody else is doing it, there’s probably a reason.
Just Because We’re Visible Doesn’t Mean We’re Available
Sometimes the door’s open because it’s hot. Or because something burned in the microwave. Sometimes we’re outside because we’re fixing something, taking a break, or trying to eat lunch before the wind picks up again.
None of that means we’re always hoping someone swings by for a chat.
You don’t have to avoid people. But you also don’t have to stop and talk to everyone who happens to be outside. Especially if they’re working on something.
A wave is enough. A quick hello is enough. You can be friendly without being involved.
Pets Need Boundaries Too
We’ve seen loose dogs. We’ve seen the prowling cats. We’ve also seen far too many people act like “just for a second” means something to a speeding pickup or a distracted neighbor backing into a site.
It’s your responsibility to keep your animals safe. That means leashed, contained, and not left alone to wander between sites. A campground isn’t a backyard, and just because your pet usually listens doesn’t mean it always will.
Everyone thinks RV parks are temporary. But someone is always there long enough to notice.
Etiquette isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being aware. Most of us don’t need a lecture. We just need a reminder that when you live ten feet apart, the little stuff becomes the big stuff.
(And a little consideration is easier than replacing your neighbor’s solar lights because your dog peed on them.)
Still Here? You Must Be the Human Equivalent of Well-Seasoned Cast Iron Pan.
Most people tap out early like tourists who underestimate Arizona heat. But not you. You’re built different. So why not pull up a camping chair with us on Substack?
