Why ?skoolies? are one of the fastest-growing subsets of the van life community I entered the Dougan Creek Campground in southern Washington by hairpin switchbacks and dirt roads so narrow my sideview mirrors brushed foliage. As I wound through the grounds without cell service, I was on the lookout for a white school bus called the Bus Code, named for the samurai code of honor called bushido. Campers lounged under R.V. awnings and played cards at picnic tables. The Bus Code sat parked across from an outhouse swarming with flies. I pulled up, mistaking the tinted windows to mean the family wasn?t home until Danny Mulvihill poked his head through one of the top panes. ?Come on in,? he said.

The Bus Code was long and dim, with two very bright bulbs on the ceiling that looked like interrogation lights. Behind the driver?s seat, an unlit wood stove spanned the width of a large lounge chair. A stuffed bear slumped on the kitchen counter and a hodgepodge of produce?a bunch of bananas, one pepper, a loose orange, and a bag of lettuce?hung from a metal rack. Farther back, a broken washer and dryer were being used for storage beside a bunk bed, a compostable toilet, and a wooden frame that would one day be a shower, but which for now was where the dog slept. The Bus Code had little decor. There was a wall tapestry in the bathroom with a poem by the Dalai Lama, souvenir fridge magnets shaped like palm trees and Hawaiian shirts, and a skateboard over the windshield that said ?Sk...