What a family learned on campervan trips in New England

The pandemic has changed how people travel, and many of us have chosen to spend more vacation time outside. According to a Kampgrounds of America study, 5 times as many people in the United States camped for the first time in 2020 as in 2019. Many who thought of camping as a socially distanced vacation often found crowds at campgrounds.

After more than a year at home, my family wanted to camp, too. Our level of camping experience varied wildly, ranging from a veteran (my teen daughter, Clara) to a beginner who was spooked by the forest (my 6-year-old son, Isaac). Finding a situation to please everyone seemed daunting.

Then we discovered Walden Campervans in Woburn, Massachusetts, and their 2-, 3-, and 4-seat rental vehicles. We couldn’t match the 4-seater’s availability with our tight schedules, so we decided to take a trio of shorter trips in the smaller units—a couple’s weekend to Vermont and New Hampshire, a father-and-son overnight in northern Massachusetts, and a final weekend with our daughter to her birth state of Maine.

Walden Campervans offer the best of everything: Their solar panels, battery bank, potable water tanks, and hardy suspensions allow for off-road adventures that don’t require formal campgrounds, but their beds, heat, fans, running water, fridge/freezer units, and electric stoves don’t sacrifice comfort, either.

What you get out of them, however, depends on how adventurous you feel. The countertop stove, for example, is great, but good weather might pull you outside for a campfire. It’s nice to have a shower, although a dip in a river requires less work. But the further off the beaten path you go and the more you camp in the shoulder season, the more value you get out of the campervan experience.

My wife, Kate, and I first took “Emma” to New Hampshire and Vermont on an August weekend. The 2-person campervan is smaller than an RV, but still much larger than an SUV, and I white-knuckled my first few miles on the road. After a bit, however, I got the hang of the vehicle and relaxed by the time we crossed state lines.

Good thing, because a fog descended once we turned onto narrower, mountainous roads. The driveway for our first destination, Mill Brook Farm, a Harvest Hosts member in Cornish, New Hampshire, was just a sloping path into a field. Turning onto it felt like an act of faith, especially with a stream nearby, but we soon safely parked near another campervan.

Our hosts were entertaining family friends at the farmhouse, as it was the weekend of the Cornish Fair. Because of its cancellation in 2020, enthusiasm for the fair was sky high and the farmhouse lights stayed on long after we doused our van’s lights.

In the morning, we enjoyed the sight of fog on the mountain from our vehicle’s rooftop deck before heading toward the Green Mountains.

On our way southeast, we couldn’t resist stopping for an outdoor brunch at the Country Girl Diner in Chester, Vermont. The eatery, a classic Silk City dining car from the 1940s, is adorned with statues of cows on the exterior and classic rock memorabilia on the interior.

Our next stop was Manchester, Vermont, known best for Hildene, the luxurious estate of Robert Todd Lincoln, the only one of President Lincoln’s sons to live into adulthood. In Manchester Center, we ducked into Northshire Bookstore, a multilevel store with a huge selection of books by New England authors. When we walked out, our wallets were lighter, but our arms were heavier.

Laden with books and with the summer sun beating down, we decided it was time to find somewhere to cool off. Years ago, I worked at the nearby Dorset Theatre Festival, a summer-stock theater, and I remembered good swimming at Emerald Lake State Park. We headed there. The lake is aptly named—a quiet swimming spot surrounded by waves of dark green hills, with a small beach a short walk in from the parking lot.

After our swim, we hunted around until we found Hathaway’s Drive-In Theatre just over the border in North Hoosick, New York. We watched Free Guy on one screen, while I could see Paw Patrol: The Movie on the other in the rear-view mirror. That night, we parked at a reserved spot in a field next to a motel, which felt a bit silly, and then we headed home.

By the time of our next campervan weekend in September, school had started, and the tips of more than a few trees began to change color. I picked up Isaac from school and took him straightaway for some very light camping at nearby Salisbury Beach State Reservation on the northeastern tip of Massachusetts. Salisbury is a summer vacation spot, and the town felt sleepy and empty this late in the year.

As soon as we stopped at the spacious campground, Isaac insisted on climbing to the rooftop deck, and we watched the sunset up there while munching on takeout pizza. Later, I had the honor of starting his first-ever campfire, and he looked at me as if I were a magician when the flames took hold.

By the next day, camping’s magic had worn off for my son, and Isaac was happy to return home that night to sleep in his own bed. But I think the short trip left enough good memories that he’d be willing to go again when he’s older.

The next morning, Clara, Kate, and I took a weekend drive to Maine in the 3-person “Walden,” while Isaac happily stayed with his grandmother. During the trip north, we took turns picking sad songs on the radio and watched the colors of fall deepen the farther north we went.

Our destination was a small campground adjoining Desert of Maine, which features 25 acres of sand dunes tucked within a pine forest near Freeport. After we parked, we took a path to explore the dunes, learning how over-farming Maine’s notoriously thin soil created them.

As night fell, we lit a campfire and ate. And ate. Hot dog after hot dog. S’more after s’more. Staring at the fire. Talking a little, but not much.

Walden Campervans are smaller than most RVs, and there was just enough space for the 3 of us to sleep inside, as long as we all were on good terms. A bed in the back is wide enough for 2, and probably long enough for most people, unless they play in the NBA.

These living arrangements passed the coziness test, however, when the skies opened up in the early morning. We listened in bed to the rain pelt the roof until we could no longer deny that we were awake, and then we fixed breakfast in the comfort of the camper.

After the rain relented, we drove to downtown Freeport, which mixes the quirky vibe of a coastal Maine community with the business of an outlet town. We wandered the levels of L.L. Bean’s flagship store, and I knew this journey was going well by the way Kate talked about what to buy for “the next trip.”

Following lunch, we headed inland to Lewiston, a post-industrial community that has received an economic boost from a wave of new Somali residents. We camped at Slippery Rock Trails, a private campground nestled among 400 acres of undeveloped land 10 miles north of town in Greene. Our campsite offered views of turkeys gathering in a field lined with peak fall colors on one side, and the slow and wide Androscoggin River on the other.

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