How ‘supported camping’ is changing outdoor life in Atlantic Canada

Whether it's throwing a mattress in the back of your SUV or buying a rooftop tent, overland or car camping is growing in popularity

Sunset over the Cape Breton Highlands near Point Cross. / (Photo by Judith Mendiolea)

Robert Starkes had just heard a crunching sound on the ground.

He unzipped the flap of his rooftop tent to find six caribou standing just 15 feet away.

“Unreal,” he recalled. That winter morning wasn’t unusual for the Newfoundlander, who has spent more than 45 years exploring Canada through what he calls “supported camping” — camping that involves a vehicle and, more recently, a sturdy rooftop tent.

Across the Maritimes, a growing number of people are trading traditional ground tents for rooftop setups or sleeping directly in their vehicles. Whether parked along the ocean in Cape Breton, tucked into the woods of N.S., or beside a river in N.B., car camping is on the rise. For many, it represents a more convenient, safer and more accessible way to experience the outdoors.

While "car camping" often means driving to a campsite and pitching a tent, in the Maritimes it frequently refers to sleeping in or on top of a vehicle. People outfit hatchbacks, SUVs or trucks with mattresses, storage systems and door screens.

Overlanding overlaps with car camping and focuses on longer journeys through remote terrain, with nights spent on Crown land or wilderness roads rather than organized campgrounds.

Camping in Atlantic Canada isn’t niche: about 21 per cent of residents go camping each year. Across Canada, more than 4 million households went camping in 2022 and collectively spent nearly $10 billion. Canada’s outdoor recreation sector now contributes more than $101 billion to GDP and supports more than 1 million full‑time jobs, underlining its cultural and economic significance.

Gail Hodder discovered car camping during the COVID‑19 pandemic shortly after moving back to N.S., following 10 years in the Arctic.

“Everyone imagines you’re just reclining the front seat, but then I show them the setup and they’re like, ‘Oh my God,’” she said.

Her compact Honda Fit has been transformed into a comfortable mobile bedroom, complete with a custom mattress, insulation, twinkle lights and screened windows for airflow.

“We don’t really live in our car, we sleep in our car. You live outside when you're car camping,” Hodder said.

For her, car camping isn’t about the gear — it’s about immersion in the landscape. She finds free, off‑grid campsites near water using the iOverlander app, setting up chairs, a canopy and cooking station outside while keeping her sleeping quarters snug and dry inside.

While Hodder prefers a minimalist solo setup, Dave Callaghan takes a different approach. Based in N.S., he organizes overlanding trips through his group and YouTube channel, “Seat of Your Pants Adventures,” designed to be beginner‑friendly. “One guy came with a Subaru Crosstrek, and we built the route around what he could handle,” he said. “You don’t need a big truck to do this.”

They often organize events so they can explore different areas of the province. 

“We've done one that went out through Wentworth, and we stayed out by Simpson Lake. And then we did one that took us by Johnson Lake Castle,” he said.

Callaghan defines overlanding simply: “Getting from one point to another across the land and then setting up and camping out.”

His own rig includes a hard‑shell rooftop tent, a 270‑degree awning and a screened annex that serves as a dry space to cook and change.

“Now I’m older, my body’s beat up from mechanic work, and I don’t want to sleep on the ground anymore,” he said.

Starkes emphasized that rooftop tents offer a different experience. “They’re waterproof. They’re elevated. They’re comfortable,” he said. “And that elevation? It changes the whole experience.”

The comfort and convenience of rooftop tents have earned them a strong following among Maritimers who want to go off‑grid without the bulk of an RV or the hassle of a ground tent. For Starkes, rooftop tents also mean security in unpredictable weather.

“We once camped during a music festival in our rooftop tent. There was 100 mm of rain. Three inches of water on the ground. And we were completely dry.”

The consensus is that car‑based camping offers a level of comfort and safety that traditional tenting often lacks.

“When I see someone setting up a tent in the rain, running back and forth to their car, I just think — why?” said Hodder, who also camps in winter and has outfitted her vehicle to stay warm and dry.

In the end, there are endless combinations of how someone might choose to camp.

“It's quite amusing now, but I think I’m 57. I think all the women I’ve been camping with are a little older. There’s a couple younger ones and everyone has experience camping in different forms.”

While rooftop tents can be expensive, Starkes and Hodder both insist gear shouldn’t be a barrier.

“People ask, ‘What’s the best car for camping?’ And I always say, ‘The one you have,’” Hodder said. Starkes echoed that: “You don’t need a lot of gear. The most important thing is to be secure, safe and comfortable. Everything else is a bonus.”

Beyond logistics, car camping is building community. Hodder co‑founded a Facebook group for women who car camp in N.S., which now has about 80 members.

“It feels safer — from animals and sometimes from people,” she said. “And interestingly, not all of us are single. Some women have a husband who doesn’t like camping, so this is another opportunity for them to go and feel a little safer sleeping in their car.”

Starkes also helped build community through rooftop tent meetups, including the first such gathering in the Maritimes, organized with Wild Coast Tents. “There are people doing this in their 20s and in their 70s — it’s a whole range.”

For Starkes, who also camps with motorcycles and trailers, the lifestyle is about curiosity and presence.

“My motto is ‘Wander. Wonder. Explore.’ It's about being curious, getting outside and discovering what’s out there. That’s what camping is,” he said. “What I like about the bikes it’s not so much the bike itself, but where the bike takes you.”

The destinations mentioned are as varied as the campers themselves, though all three agree Cape Breton is a must. Hodder swears by Simpson Lake on the Chignecto Peninsula, where she kayaks and watches the fog roll in. Starkes calls Cape Breton even more enjoyable than California: “There are just so many good places in Cape Breton, so many walking and hiking trails.”

Whether you’re climbing into a rooftop tent or sliding into the backseat of a well‑packed hatchback, what these campers share is a desire for simplicity, solitude and self‑sufficiency.

“We were overlanding before it had a name. We just called it going into the woods and figuring it out,” said Callaghan.

As Statistics Canada and industry groups note, Canada’s outdoor recreation economy plays a major role in Canadian life. Whether nestled in a rooftop tent, curled up in a sedan or pitching canvas under the stars, the driving force behind modern camping in the Maritimes is a powerful blend of simplicity, flexibility and a connection to nature.