A dispersed campsite on Bureau of Land Management land outside of the Needles district of Canyonlands National Park in Utah is surrounded by spectacular red rock views. When dispersed camping, you should camp at an established site rather than create a new one in order to mitigate impact.
A dispersed site in ·è¿ÍÖ±²¥ Fe National Forest near the Rio Chama has the backdrop of colorful sandstone cliffs. Also known as boondocking, dispersed camping is camping outside of designated campgrounds but still on public land. It’s how many retirees in RVs, van-lifers and other wandering nomads spend months living on the road and experiencing some of the most stunning places in the country on a budget.
Bryce Canyon National Park has amenities to bolster weary hikers, including a breakfast buffet at the lodge and a general store that offers pay-per-shower and laundry areas.
A dispersed campsite on Bureau of Land Management land outside of the Needles district of Canyonlands National Park in Utah is surrounded by spectacular red rock views. When dispersed camping, you should camp at an established site rather than create a new one in order to mitigate impact.
Over the years, as I’ve matured from a young adult to near middle age, I’ve become somewhat of a snob when it comes to the places I stay on vacation.
Three-star hotels don’t cut it. Neither do four- or even five-star resorts. If I have a break from the grind and really want to unwind, I won’t settle for locales with less than thousands of stars.
My own rating system is inexact and unscientific. It’s based on how bright the Milky Way appears in the night sky to the naked eye. The scale goes from “shoot, the moon’s too full to see it,†to pretty bright, to really bright, to “Woah, I feel like I’m floating in the middle of space.†The level of brightness tends to correspond with how far I am from civilization.
A cool thing about these places is they typically don’t cost much to stay at and often don’t even require a reservation. In fact, many of them can be secured for a nightly rate of zero dollars. And, best yet, there is an abundance of these places in the Western U.S.
You don’t have to concern yourself with travel rewards credit cards or accumulating and tracking your points to unlock these deals. You just have to know where to go and be OK with sleeping in a tent or in your vehicle.
As a part-time dirtbag, seeking out and finding these spots is part of the fun of vacationing. To come across a campsite that’s private, quiet, in a breathtaking location and free is like winning a competition. And the more you do it, the better you get at finding them.
While I will stay at developed campsites from time to time and pay a fee that’s usually somewhere between $5 to $25, my preference is usually dispersed camping.
For the uninitiated, dispersed camping is camping outside of designated campgrounds but still on public land, usually somewhere along a dirt road on U.S. Forest Service or Bureau of Land Management land. These are typically spots that have clearly been previously used for camping and may have a rock fire ring but offer no other amenities beyond the solitude and beautiful views. Unlike at campgrounds where you’re usually in earshot of your neighbor, dispersed sites are generally spread farther apart.
A dispersed site in ·è¿ÍÖ±²¥ Fe National Forest near the Rio Chama has the backdrop of colorful sandstone cliffs. Also known as boondocking, dispersed camping is camping outside of designated campgrounds but still on public land. It’s how many retirees in RVs, van-lifers and other wandering nomads spend months living on the road and experiencing some of the most stunning places in the country on a budget.
Matt Dahlseid/The New Mexican
Also known as boondocking, dispersed camping is how many retirees in RVs, van-lifers and other wandering nomads spend months living on the road and experiencing some of the most stunning places in the country on a budget.
When dispersed camping, you should camp at an established site rather than create a new one in order to mitigate impact. Also, always follow Leave No Trace principles no matter how or where you’re camping.
One of the pastimes I enjoy when roaming Northern New Mexico is, if I’ve finished a day hike and there’s still plenty of day left, I’ll drive random Forest Service roads to scout out potential dispersed camping sites. Sometimes you’ll come across roads that have a high concentration of users with big groups. I try to avoid those in favor of the quieter, less-trafficked areas.
When traveling to a national park, particularly the more popular parks, it can be difficult to reserve a site at a designated campground unless you know your plans well in advance. I usually don’t, so dispersed sites are often the best option.
National parks are usually surrounded by BLM or U.S. Forest Service land and will frequently have some dispersed camping sites that are pretty close to the park entrance. There are some parks where the drive to the nearest dispersed camping area isn’t practical if you want to explore the park for multiple days, so trying to snag a site inside the park in order to reduce drive time is the way to go.
Even if I’m not camping at a park campground, I still like to give a quick spin around to see what the sites are like. I’ll frequently see rave reviews for campgrounds, and they’ll look pretty nice, but the dispersed sites just outside the park are, to me, clearly better.
One of my favorite national parks is Canyonlands near Moab, Utah. I’ve spent several days hiking in the Needles district that features towering sandstone spires and offers slickrock scrambling. The Needles campground only has 26 sites, which are nestled around a sandstone butte. They seem great, but there are incredible dispersed sites just outside the park boundary where you can have your own sandstone playground to climb around if you get tired of sitting around the fire ring and watching the red rocks change their hue at golden hour.
Even if you’re not camping inside a national park, you can still take advantage of some of its amenities.
Bryce Canyon National Park has amenities to bolster weary hikers, including a breakfast buffet at the lodge and a general store that offers pay-per-shower and laundry areas.
Matt Dahlseid/The New Mexican
Fill up your water jugs at the visitors center. Fuel up for a day of hiking by grabbing a big breakfast at the park’s lodge and gloat about how you’ve swindled them if they’re foolish enough to offer a breakfast buffet.
Want to treat yourself to an experience that will make you feel like a completely new person? Spend three-plus days accumulating sweat, dirt and sunscreen on your skin as you tackle the trails and then splurge for a coin-operated, five-minute shower should you find a campground that offers such a luxury.
There are plenty of resources to use to find dispersed sites around the country. Websites such as offer maps that show you where they are clustered, as well as photos and reviews of what the sites are like.
The best resource to find sites are the rangers at the land management agency of the area you want to visit. Call up a field office and get tips and suggestions about where to camp and what to see. Better yet, stop by an office to talk to a ranger in person and pick up a map of the region.
Some BLM and Forest Service roads can be sketchy if you don’t have a high-clearance vehicle. It’s always advisable to err on the side of caution and turn around if conditions are poor. It’s also important to understand how inclement weather could impact the roads, particularly dirt roads in the desert that can become impassable with a heavy rains.
The cost benefit of dispersed camping on vacation is definitely noticeable when reviewing your bank account.
I spent a full week camping and hiking around Canyonlands and Bears Ears National Monument a couple years ago. Thanks to dispersed camping, the total cost of the trip — including food, gas and lodging (free) — was less than $150.
Weird confession, or rather, confession that shows how weird I am: I haven’t spent money on a hotel room or short-term rental for a vacation since I stayed at a hostel in Wicker Park during a visit to Chicago in 2014.
That might have something to do with the fact that I spent much of my childhood and the entirety of my adolescence living and working in a motel. Or that I just like mountains and canyons more than I like cities.
As I continue to age and sleeping on the ground becomes less tolerable, I’m sure I’ll eventually relent and pay to sleep in a bed on vacation. For now, I’m going to keep taking advantage of living in the West, where there are millions of acres of inspiring land where you can stay for free and feel like the world is your campsite.
