Paul Stephens lives a lifestyle familiar to many Whistlerites—mountain biking, river swims and long walks with his two dogs, Winterfell and John Snow. Each day, he heads to work as the owner of Whistler Garbage and Recycling.
But unlike many, Stephens lives in an RV on Crown land up Wedge Mountain Forest Service Road. He’s called the outskirts of Whistler home for the past four years.
After separating from his partner and facing the town’s notoriously high cost of living—where roughly 90 per cent of residents can’t afford market-rate housing—Stephens made the decision to adopt a less conventional form of housing. Owning two large dogs added to the challenge of finding a suitable rental.
“I did one winter in the cargo trailer—froze my ass off,” Stephens said. “In the spring, I bought the big camper.” Come winter, he moves to an RV park for the season. “It's easier to do it that way because you have the electric hookup. The camper’s winterized. If you put in a wood stove, you could survive the winter, no problem. But once the fire goes out, it gets extremely cold.”
Living off-grid brings its own set of challenges beyond harsh temperatures. Stephens has had to deal with repeated theft due to the remote nature of his home.
Over the years, he’s had numerous tools and other belongings stolen. The problem became so persistent he installed a security camera system.
That camera is how Pique came to meet him.
In response to reader concerns about illegal camping near Whistler—largely focused on wildfire risk, garbage dumping, and unsanitary conditions along forest service roads—Pique began searching for people to interview on the topic. While exploring the Wedge area, my presence triggered Stephens’ security system. He arrived shortly after, and a conversation followed.
Though he lives off-grid, Stephens shares many of the same concerns as his traditionally housed neighbours. He agrees wildfire risk, garbage, and unregulated camping are real issues. But he believes the solution isn’t stricter enforcement—it’s infrastructure.
His proposal: a permanent, designated RV site on Crown land that includes basic services and security.
“If you have a gate for the entrance, you know who's coming in,” he said. “It adds security and a little bit of peace of mind.”
His vision includes sewer access, bathrooms and garbage bins—essentials that would improve living conditions and reduce environmental impact.
“It would remove all the people... There’s been a lot of complaints in Cheakamus about people just parking wherever and setting up and staying long-term,” he said. “But the guys that work here, they just need a place to park.
“When you're living here, we’re not, I guess, as aesthetically pleasing as some of the weekend [campers]. I’ve got snowmobiles, tools, generators—it’s a whole package that comes with living in an RV and living this kind of lifestyle.”
A model from Squamish
Stephens’ idea isn’t without precedent. A campground in Squamish already offers a version of what he envisions.
John Harvey runs Mamquam River Campground, a four-season, affordable, non-profit campground situated on Crown land with a 30-year lease supported by the District of Squamish.
“I’ve always felt our campground is replicable,” Harvey said. “It started with me writing six pages on paper, sent to the Ministry of Forests, saying I’m interested in abandoned Crown land.”
He accepts long-term, self-contained campers in the winter by application only. In the summer, reservations are limited to a two-week stay.
Harvey hires staff to manage the property and doesn’t run it to make money.
Winter tenants must meet specific conditions. Campers must interview with Harvey and sign an agreement to vacate by April 15.
“The reason it’s done that way is it immediately excludes problem people I don’t want,” he said. “I’m concerned about ruining the environment. One person can ruin it for everyone.”
A call for action
Whistler resident Trevor Mitzel says the time has come for authorities to take action—both through enforcement and through solutions.
“They live without proper access to sanitation. Then there’s the concern regarding fire danger. You’ve got barbecues, generators, campfires in an area close to population. There’s a big risk there,” he said. “In Cheakamus and Wedge, it’s getting popular enough that it’s an area the public can no longer access.
“It’s Crown land. The province and town have developed these recreation areas, and we can’t access them.”
Mitzel acknowledges some campers are left with no other option, but he believes the trend is largely enabled by a lack of enforcement.
“I think we’ve made it an option. You can find a place to live, or buy an old RV and live in the woods. It’s not a good solution,” he said. “The municipality is basically saying we don’t want to get involved because they don’t want to force people with housing issues to move.
“But if we’re going to tacitly approve of this, then do it properly. Provide somewhere these people can have a permanent campsite, porta potty or access to basic sanitation.”
The vanlife perspective
Dan Finn, a seasonal visitor from Utah, shares some of Mitzel’s concerns, despite also living in a vehicle while in Whistler.
For the past 13 summers, Finn has driven north for adventure. He used to stay with friends, but becoming a dog owner made that more complicated.
His solution? Vehicle camping. He travels with a Starlink internet system mounted to his truck and moves every few days.
His setup is minimalist, designed to minimize impact and avoid attracting attention—from bears or people.
“The cost of renting during the summer is prohibitive,” he said. “But I also pursue this lifestyle for the flexibility—it lets me travel through the province while I’m here.”
While his own habits are mindful, Finn says not everyone is so conscientious.
“It’s definitely concerning to me, which is probably a weird thing to say, because I’m doing the same thing,” he said. “But I feel like my impact is pretty minimal. There’s definitely some people that are maybe less concerned or less aware of their impact.”
He’s seen people camp in the same place for years at a time and wonders why no action is taken. Legally, people are only permitted to camp on Crown land for 14 days.
A provincial response
Jeremy Valeriote, MLA for West Vancouver-Sea to Sky, said the issue of long-term Crown camping is on his radar—but the underlying cause is no mystery.
“The systemic cause is unaffordable and unattainable housing,” he said.
Valeriote pointed to BC Housing’s support of the Heart and Hearth program and his push to direct funding to Squamish Helping Hands, which runs the shelter nearest to Whistler.
“What’s really needed are deeply affordable, non-market homes for people,” he said.
In terms of enforcement, Valeriote said his office recently requested a briefing from the Ministry of Forests in response to heightened wildfire risk.
“We want to know where they stand currently on enforcement through Conservation Officers, Natural Resource Officers, and possibly even the RCMP, if that’s required,” he said.
Still, he acknowledged enforcement is only a temporary fix.
“People being asked to move after 14 days is not the ultimate solution,” he said. “But when there’s danger to others, danger to the forest, or danger to the environment, then enforcement really needs to come into play.”
Stephens’ suggestion of a designated site? Valeriote said it’s worth exploring.
“I think it’s worth consideration. I know there are not enough low-cost campgrounds, and the ones that do exist are often quite expensive,” he said. “There is Crown land that would probably be suitable. But that’s why this needs a push in the right direction.
“So far, it flares up once or twice a year, then there’s a bunch of jurisdictional finger-pointing, and then it fades away as we get into winter.”
RMOW’s position
Pique asked the Resort Municipality of Whistler whether there’s any formal discussion about a permanent site like Stephens suggested.
Acting mayor Jessie Morden said housing conversations are “always evolving,” but nothing concrete is underway.
“We recognize that the status quo probably isn't sustainable for many reasons, but we're committed to build as much as we can,” she said. “On municipal land, we can build more apartments, condos and townhomes than we can fit RVs and campers.”
The municipality has received complaints about Crown campers, and Morden said the RMOW is trying to balance those concerns with compassion for underhoused residents.
Last year’s complaints sparked inter-agency meetings and a commitment from the province to increase patrols and signage. Whistler bylaw services is now taking what Morden described as a “compassionate approach,” including referring people to the Whistler Community Services Society (WCSS).
While WCSS does not operate a permanent shelter, executive director Jackie Dickinson urged residents to approach the issue with empathy.
“Once you hear someone’s story—whether it’s the person in a house or the person seen as a contributor who lacks a safe place to live—they both have reasons to be frustrated,” she said. “But we often don’t understand the ‘why,’ which leads to conflict. This isn’t limited to Whistler—it’s happening across the country.”
She pointed to Whistler’s high cost of living, tight housing market, and precarious employment as some of the key reasons people seek help from WCSS.
For Stephens, the RV lifestyle is far from perfect—but it offers something the local housing market doesn’t: stability.
“It’s almost impossible to rent a place. Even when you do, it’s often temporary,” he said. “You’re good for two years, and then you’re on the hunt again.
“This sort of stabilizes your housing situation. It feels better than constantly struggling to find a place. I have some peace of mind.”
