We have been in our current spot for over two years and serving as camp hosts for a little more than one. Every campground that has hosts handles the role a little differently, and expectations can vary wildly. We are at a privately owned, rustic campground off the beaten path, which we absolutely love. The mountain views never get old.
My first experience with hosting was at a state park near where I grew up. Hosts mainly cleaned campsites after guests left, answered questions, and sold firewood after hours. It was simple, and because the campground was large there were several hosts to share the work.
When we arrived at our current park in October, we started by helping with small things like leaf clean-up. As the weeks passed, we pitched in more. The place we planned to stay for two weeks became home. After a little over a year, we were offered a host position. Now we help maintain the grounds, check people in, show them to their sites, and stay available for anything guests may need. When the owners travel, we take care of the park. The part that always makes people laugh is the camp phone. It is a cordless with a base in our rig, and visitors are always surprised that we have what feels like a landline on wheels.
Those of us with chronic illnesses know that some days are harder than others. I promise you can still find a rhythm. There are days when I can barely function, yet I manage to do the essentials. This park does not require long shifts every day, which helps. I pace myself, communicate, and give myself grace. My favorite task is tending the flower beds. When I had a sticks-and-bricks house I loved gardening. Hosting lets me keep that passion alive while living on the road.
The healthiest hosting arrangements start with clear expectations. Ask for duties in writing. Vague job descriptions create stress and misunderstandings. If you have chronic illnesses, be honest about what you can and cannot do. If bathroom cleaning is required and you know you cannot do it, pass on the position. It is kinder to you and fairer to the park.
Host duties range from greeting guests, working in the office or store, and escorting people to sites, to light maintenance, landscaping, housekeeping for cabins, and sometimes cleaning restrooms. Some positions are volunteer with a free full-hookup site. Others are paid, often with part of your hours covering your site. Many specify a weekly hour range and will align a couple’s days off so you can explore together. Even a volunteer site saves real money, especially in popular areas.
We have had both sweet and sour seasons. At one park, we felt used and undervalued. Expectations kept growing while appreciation shrank. For a site that costs $400 a month, we put in hours and hours cleaning up fallen branches, raking leaves, answering phones at all hours, caring for guests, and handling occasional late-night issues that did not feel safe. We felt guilty leaving for groceries, and when we called the owners during their long absences, it often felt like we were an inconvenience. It was not our property, yet we were on call as if it were.
At another park, things started beautifully. We poured our hearts into making it welcoming. Overnighters loved the place and often thanked us with small gifts. We believed it would be a long-term fit. Then the property sold. The day after the sale closed, we were told our services were no longer needed. From what we can tell, the new owners cleared house across both properties they purchased. We had been promised security. The new listing that replaced us offered lower pay and required hosts to cover half their site fee.
State parks are different. Many rely on volunteers who receive a free site. Duties are usually straightforward and shared by several hosts. My parents hosted at a state park in Ohio and enjoyed the teamwork.
After almost three years of work camping, we are honestly unsure whether we want to keep doing it. We loved serving guests and caring for the grounds. It was the outside dynamics that wore us down.
Compensation packages are all over the map. You might receive a site only. Sometimes electricity is extra. Some parks include site, electricity, laundry discounts, propane discounts, or a modest paycheck. None of it is get-rich money. I have heard people call hosting indentured servitude. I do not agree. We choose it, and choice matters. Still, be discerning. Some campers value their time like gold. Some parks value their sites like gold. Find the balance that honors you.
If I could give only one piece of advice, it would be this: get a written agreement that lists duties, hours, days off, compensation, and who handles what during emergencies. If more and more is added, pause and renegotiate. If a property is for sale, assume that new owners may change staffing. Prepare for that possibility from day one.
You may have to ask non-guests to leave facilities. You will sometimes spot people who arrive late and try to slip out early to avoid paying. You will help tired travelers find their site in the dark and calm a frustrated guest who simply needs to be heard. On good days, you will watch a sunset and feel like the luckiest person in the world.
If you enjoy people, do not mind light maintenance, and value trading time for a site in a beautiful place, hosting can be a meaningful way to lower monthly costs while you travel. If you need stable income, predictable schedules, and firm boundaries around off-time, look closely at paid roles with clear coverage plans. And if you live with chronic illness, choose duties that match your energy on average weeks, not your very best days.
My biggest takeaways are simple. Get everything in writing. Revisit boundaries when scope creeps. If a sale is rumored, plan for transition. Choose duties that fit your real life and health. And remember why you are here. The right park can give you both income relief and a front-row seat to the mountains.