Want to Camp Naked? Everything You Were Too Scared to Ask about Nudist Campgrounds.

There are lots of places you can camp without clothes in the United States. Just imagine sitting in your camp chair, feeling the breeze over your body, sipping a cold one. Could anything be more freeing?

What you need to know: a family nudist campground is a normal campground where people do not wear clothes. You sit on your own towel, you leave the camera in the van, you do not stare, and within an hour nobody is thinking about bodies at all. Expect a grounds or day fee on top of the nightly rate, and expect the club to ask a few questions before it lets you in.

The honest catch: not every place that calls itself “clothing-optional” is a nudist campground. Some are adults-only “lifestyle” clubs, which is a polite word for swingers, and the readers who grew up in the nudist world were the loudest about keeping the two apart. The first section is how to tell them apart before you book, because everything else in this guide assumes you picked the right kind.

If you want the list of places, it is in our guide to the best nude campgrounds across the US. This article is everything that happens after you pick one. Prefer heat or water to a campsite? Our guides to the naked German saunas you can road-trip by camper and to nude sailing charters cover the same freedom, indoors and at sea.

There are two kinds of “clothing-optional,” and you want the first one

The distinction readers kept drawing, over and over, is between a nudist or naturist club and an adults-only “lifestyle” club. A nudist club is non-sexual by definition. The American Association for Nude Recreation (AANR), which has chartered clubs since the 1930s, puts it plainly: nudity at its clubs is not sexual in nature and is based on accepting yourself and respecting others. Families, couples, singles and kids all camp there, and the daytime is pool, volleyball, potlucks and naps.

A lifestyle club is for adults looking for adult company. There is nothing wrong with that if it is what you want, but readers who went to one by accident described it as a very different weekend from the one they had planned. One reader who grew up in the nudist community said clubs that allow sexual activity lose their AANR affiliation and sometimes get shut down, which is why affiliation is the single fastest thing to check.

How to tell before you book, in order:

• Look for AANR or The Naturist Society (TNSF) affiliation on the club’s own site. It is usually on the home page or the “about” page. Affiliation is not a guarantee of anything, but a club that has kept it has agreed to a non-sexual standard.
• Read the wording. “Family,” “naturist,” “all ages,” “kids’ activities” point one way. “Couples only,” “adult playground,” “lifestyle-friendly,” “sensual,” “no kids, ever” point the other.
• Check who is allowed in. Family nudist clubs usually welcome children. Many lifestyle clubs and some nudist clubs are 21 and over. A 21+ rule by itself does not mean swingers, but it is a question to ask.
• Call and ask. AANR’s own first-visit advice is “plan ahead, call ahead.” Ask whether it is a family nudist club, whether it is clothing-optional or clothes-free, and what the camera and conduct rules are. A club that is proud of being non-sexual will say so in the first sentence. A club that hedges is telling you something.
• Ask a nudist. Readers in the community knew exactly which places in their state had changed character, including one well-known Midwest club that readers described as adults-only and party-focused now rather than family-oriented. Local knowledge moves faster than websites.

What it is really like once you drive through the gate

Boring, in the best way. That was the theme of nearly every answer from people who go regularly. “We’ve been to four different ones and we’ve met the best people,” one reader from The Van Life Collective Facebook page wrote. “Always a good time.” The daytime is “pool and volleyball.” Evenings are campfires and potlucks. One couple goes to the same club almost every weekend and is looking into a permanent site because of the laid-back atmosphere and nice people.

The practical joys are real too. A reader who camps nude for whole long weekends said the best part is “coming home with only one outfit for the hamper,” the one worn for the drive. Another put it as skin in the sun, all-day comfort, and feeling free. People hike, swim, play pickleball, read, cook and do absolutely nothing, the same as any campground, minus the laundry.

What surprised first-timers most was how fast it stopped being strange. “Actually it’s quite liberating,” one wrote. “You think that when you show up everyone looks like a model. They really don’t. I was scared my first time.” The people are regular people: every age, every shape, a lot of retirees, a lot of couples, and more families than the newcomers expected. “No one is looking,” a longtime member said. “If you are going to look at people, you are going for the wrong reason.”

The first-timer fear, and what people say happens to it

Almost everyone who had done it admitted to the same fear beforehand. One reader said it took many years to go to a nude beach alone because of it. The fear is not really about being naked. It is about being seen, judged, and ranked, and the answer from nearly every regular was the same: that ranking does not happen, because the whole culture of the place is built on nobody doing it.

Several readers said the opposite happened. A plus-size woman who camps at a Pennsylvania club wrote that it “helped me feel beautiful in my own skin.” A reader who has lost more than 150 pounds said she loves being nude now. A reader in his seventies goes regularly and sees “many others, of all shapes and sizes, on the campsites.” The over-70 crowd, the scars, the surgeries, the soft middles: they are the majority, not the exception.

The honest version includes the bad first visits. One reader said other women giggled at her and she never went back. Another said people pointed and laughed. Regulars doubted those stories, but they are in the thread, and the lesson is the same as the first section: the club you pick decides the experience you get. A family nudist club with a conduct policy and a manager you can talk to is the whole point.

Clothing-optional and clothes-free are not the same rule

Ask this before anything else, because it changes your first hour. At a clothing-optional club you decide, and plenty of first-timers walk in dressed and ease out of it over the afternoon. One reader summed up the nuance nicely: “Yes, doesn’t mean I would go naked, just means other people can if they want.” At a clothes-free club you are expected to be nude in the common areas, weather permitting. Some clubs let first-time visitors tour clothed before deciding.

The one rule that holds everywhere, even at clothing-optional clubs: pools and hot tubs are nude only. AANR’s Carolyn Hawkins told Mental Floss, “In all of our clubs, you have to be nude to get into a pool or hot tub, even if it’s clothing-optional.” The reason is hygiene, not ideology. Swimsuits carry whatever they picked up at the last beach.

Cold is the honest exception. “Yes, so long as I could keep my socks on if it’s cold,” one reader said, and that is normal. Shoes, sandals, hats, sunglasses and a jacket on a chilly evening are all fine. AANR’s phrase is “clothed when practical, nude when appropriate.”

The rules every club shares

Towels always. This was the most-asked question, and the answer is simpler than it sounds. “Towels always” means you always sit on your own towel. Chairs, benches, picnic tables, the seat in the clubhouse, the lounger at the pool: your towel goes down first. It is a hygiene rule, and it is universal. AANR tells first-timers to carry two towels, one to sit on and one to dry off with, and to take one with you whenever you leave your spot, including to the restroom or the snack bar. It does not mean “stay covered up.”

No cameras. Most clubs ban photography outright or limit it to a few spots, and a first visit is not the time to test it. Phones are the problem now, and clubs have adapted. Cypress Cove in Florida uses a red-dot policy: a sticker over your phone’s camera lens, so everyone can see it is covered. Readers who are club officers said people get walked out for breaking this one.

No staring, no comments. Eye contact, like anywhere. Compliments on bodies are not compliments at a nudist club. Nobody is there to be looked at, and the fastest way to be asked to leave is to make someone feel looked at.

Keep it non-sexual. Holding hands and a quick hug are the norm. Anything more belongs in your van with the doors shut. The same goes for what you wear when you do wear something: lingerie, see-through anything and “tight jeans” are unwelcome at AANR clubs, in Hawkins’ words, because “that’s sex appeal, not a nude body.”

Dress before you leave the nude area. Clubs that border a road, a public trail or a non-nude campground mark where the clothing-optional zone ends, and you put something on before you cross it.

Everything else is the club’s call. Alcohol rules, quiet hours, pet rules and whether you can eat in the clubhouse nude (usually yes, on your towel) vary by club and are on their site or a phone call away.

Single men, couples and the gender-balance question

“Do any of them allow single males?” was the second most-asked question, and the answer is: many do, with conditions. Clubs try to keep a balance between men and women and to keep out the small number of men who show up for the wrong reasons, so unaccompanied men are often screened harder, asked about their nudist experience, or limited to certain days and events. As one longtime member put it, these places “are not the Playboy Mansion or a pick-up place.”

The clearest written example comes from Cypress Cove, one of the largest nudist resorts in the country, which revised its singles policy to apply one set of rules to single visitors of any gender. A single visitor qualifies by having visited before, by belonging to a recognized nudist organization such as AANR, TNS or INF, or by having been a member or guest of a family-friendly naturist club. Visits to adults-only resorts or nude beaches do not count, and staff keep discretion. That is a good model of what to expect elsewhere: show that you understand what a nudist club is, and the door opens.

Some clubs go further. A reader described a Texas club that runs a background check on new visitors and asks you to call ahead. A few readers said certain clubs are “really hard to join.” For couples and families, the process is usually a short conversation at the gate, a look at your ID, and a signature on the rules.

The cheapest way to make all of this easier is an AANR membership, which many clubs treat as proof that you know the culture. It also gets you the club directory, which is the other half of the first section.

Day passes, grounds fees and membership, explained

Most nudist campgrounds price in two layers, and first-timers get surprised by the second one. There is the nightly rate for your site, cabin or RV hookup, and there is a grounds fee (also called a day fee, visitor fee or day pass) that every adult pays to be on the property. Members pay less or nothing on the second layer, which is how membership pays for itself if you go more than a few times a year.

Day passes are the easiest first visit. Nearly every club offers one, and readers recommended it as the way to find out whether the place suits you before you commit to a weekend. Go on a weekday if you can. Weekends at the social clubs can be busy, and a quiet Tuesday with twelve people at the pool is a gentler introduction.

Holiday weekends cost more and book out early, the same as any campground. Rates and the exact fee structure for sixteen clubs are in our nude campgrounds guide; everything there is a starting rate, and the club’s own site has the current number.

What to pack for a nude campground

Less than you think, and two of everything in one category.

• Two towels per person, plus a spare. One to sit on, one for the pool, and a dry one for tomorrow.
• Sunscreen you actually like, because you will be putting it on places that have never seen sun. Readers were blunt about this. Reapply, and bring a hat.
• Bug spray. “No mosquitoes, they don’t like naked people” was a joke in the thread. It is a joke. Campfire smoke helps, repellent helps more.
• Sandals or shoes. Nude does not mean barefoot. Gravel, fire ants, pine needles and hot pool decks are the reason AANR lists footwear as normal.
• A cover-up or sarong for the walk to the restroom at night, cool evenings and the dash out of the nude area to the car.
• A small bag that goes everywhere with you: towel, water, sunscreen, wallet, phone with the lens covered.
• Your usual camping gear. Chairs, the camp stove, headlamps, the fan. The van does not know it is at a nudist campground.
• Leave at home: the camera, the drone, and anything you would describe as lingerie.

Sun, bugs, weather and the other things nobody warns you about

Sunburn is the number one first-timer injury, and it lands in places that make the drive home miserable. Start in the shade, keep the first day short, and treat sunscreen like a schedule, not a one-time event. Bugs are the second. Most clubs are in the woods or by a lake, which is lovely and also where mosquitoes live. Evenings get cool fast with nothing on, so the campfire becomes the center of the night, and a hoodie you can pull on without feeling like you broke a rule is worth packing.

Also real: hot picnic benches (the towel again), pool chemicals on skin that has never met them, and the strange first hour where you keep reaching for pockets you do not have. Then it passes.

Kids, families and the 21-and-over clubs

Family nudist clubs are exactly that: children are welcome, there are often kids’ activities, and the community is set up around that. Several readers grew up camping this way. Other clubs are 21 and over, sometimes all the time and sometimes only on weekends, and those run more toward parties, live music and late nights. Neither is better. Ask which one you are booking, and if you are traveling with kids, ask what the club has for them and whether other families are usually there.

The people who said no, and why they are not wrong

About a third of the people who answered said they would not go, and their reasons deserve a straight answer rather than a sales pitch. The biggest worry was creeps, and especially men who are there to look. Regulars did not deny that it happens. One longtime camper said the places are “awesome to chill, relax, and be one with nature,” and then added that he had met “too many men who visit for the wrong reasons.” The difference is that a good club has rules for this and uses them: unwelcome behavior gets reported to management, and management acts. That is one more reason the first section matters.

The second worry was gender balance, the “all the guys say yes and the women say no” perception. Clubs know this, which is why singles policies exist, and the families and couples who go regularly described crowds that look like a normal campground, not a locker room.

And some people simply do not want to see strangers naked, or be seen, and prefer the version of freedom that happens with nobody around. “I disperse camp away from people so I can be naked and afraid by myself,” one reader wrote, and honestly, that is a complete answer. If that is you, the clothing-optional hot springs and the open BLM desert are more your speed than a club, and we have a guide to those too.

Your first visit, step by step

1. Pick a family nudist club with AANR or TNSF affiliation and a clear rules page. Read the whole page.
2. Call. Ask: clothing-optional or clothes-free, day-pass price, singles policy if it applies, kids’ policy if it applies, RV length and hookups if you are bringing a rig.
3. Book a day pass or one night on a weekday. Bring ID and your membership card if you have one.
4. Arrive dressed. Check in, sign the rules, cover the phone lens, ask where the nude area starts and ends.
5. Find a shady spot, put the towel down, and give it an hour. Everyone who answered said the hour is the whole hurdle.
6. Sunscreen, water, towel, repeat. Say hello to people; it is a small-town kind of place.
7. Decide afterward whether this is your kind of weekend. Plenty of people try it once, enjoy it, and never go back. Plenty end up members. Both are fine.

If you have camped nude and I missed something that would have helped you the first time, tell me in the comments. This guide gets better every time someone who has actually done it corrects it.

Nude campground FAQ

Sources

Reader answers: several hundred comments from campers, van lifers and RVers collected in the fall of this year, quoted without names. Club rules: AANR, “Your First Visit” guidance (call ahead, two towels, cameras, clothing-optional vs clothes-free, non-sexual) · Mental Floss, “9 Nudist Resort Rules of Etiquette”, quoting AANR’s Carolyn Hawkins (pools and hot tubs nude only, the red-dot camera policy, singles screening, sexualized attire) · Cypress Cove, revised singles admission policy · AANR club directory. Fees in the FAQ are the starting rates in our campgrounds guide; every club’s current rates are on its own site.