Water Quality in RVs: What You're Drinking and How to Fix It

That was the moment I started paying attention to what I was actually drinking.

Here's the uncomfortable truth about RV water systems — most of us are running water through old hoses, into tanks we've never properly sanitized, through filters we forgot to change, and drinking it like it's fine. And maybe it is fine. Or maybe it's carrying sediment, bacteria, heavy metals, or enough chlorine to disinfect a public pool.

I spent three months testing water from different sources across the Southwest — campground spigots, city water hookups, natural springs, and my own tank — using a TDS meter and a First Alert WT1 drinking water test kit. The results were — well, they were eye-opening.

The TDS (total dissolved solids) readings varied wildly. City water in Flagstaff measured around 180 ppm — perfectly normal. A campground well in southern New Mexico hit 640 ppm — that's approaching the EPA secondary limit of 500 ppm, which means it's technically not great for drinking. My own tank, after sitting for a week without use, read 310 ppm — higher than the source water I'd filled it with, which tells you something about what's accumulating inside the tank itself.

The Filter Situation

Most RVers — myself included, for a long time — use one of those blue Camco inline filters that attach to your water hose. They cost about $8, they're better than nothing, and "better than nothing" is exactly how I'd describe their performance. They catch large sediment. That's about it. Chlorine, lead, bacteria, VOCs — the Camco filter waves them right through.

I upgraded to a two-stage system — a Clearsource Ultra with a 0.2 micron sediment filter and a solid carbon block. The difference was immediately visible. I photographed water samples before and after filtration — same campground, same source — and the filtered sample was noticeably clearer. Not dramatic, not night-and-day, but the kind of subtle clarity difference that a photographer notices. Like the difference between shooting through a clean window versus one with a fine layer of dust.

For drinking and cooking water specifically, I added a Berkey Sport bottle as a final stage. Belt and suspenders — maybe overkill — but after seeing those test results from New Mexico, overkill felt appropriate.

Tank Maintenance — The Part Everyone Skips

Your fresh water tank is a dark, enclosed, sometimes warm environment. Bacteria love that. You should sanitize it every six months at minimum — I do it quarterly. The process is simple but tedious — a quarter cup of household bleach per 15 gallons of tank capacity, fill the tank, run every faucet until you smell chlorine, let it sit for 12 hours, drain completely, refill with clean water, flush again until the bleach smell is gone.

Takes most of a day. Nobody wants to do it. Do it anyway.

I also replaced my factory water hoses — those white ones that came with the RV — with a Camco TastePURE premium hose. The factory hoses can leach plasticizers into your water — especially in heat — and considering I'm often parked in places where the afternoon sun could fry an egg on my roof, that mattered to me.

The Visual Test

Here's a quick trick I use — fill a clear glass from your tap, hold it up against a white surface in good light, and look at it critically. Really look. Is it perfectly clear, or is there a faint haze? Any tiny particles catching the light? Any color at all — a slight yellow tint means possible rust or organic compounds. This isn't scientific — but it's a good first indicator that something needs attention.

Water is one of those things we take for granted until something goes wrong — a stomach bug in the middle of nowhere, a weird taste that won't go away, a mysterious film on your coffee. Paying attention to it isn't paranoia. It's just — maintenance. The unsexy, essential kind that keeps you healthy while you chase the light across the desert.