Camping on a Maine Blueberry Farm: How One Landowner Found Joy in Sharing His Hilltop View

Landowners are partnering with Hipcamp to earn extra money by connecting their properties with folks looking to stay and camp outside. All you need to get started is a flat spot where someone can pitch a tent or park an RV, or a structure (such as a yurt, canvas tent, or cabin) for them to spend the night in.

“It’s spectacular here,” Rod Burton says. “How could I keep all of this to myself?”.

When Rod first opened his land to campers, he didn’t think of himself as a Host. He was simply a man with a hilltop blueberry field—and a view too good not to share. What began as a personal project has since become one of Maine’s most loved camping experiences, offering quiet, privacy, and a true sense of connection to the land.

Starting small

Back in 2004, Rod bought a patch of land in Union, Maine, where the ridgeline looks out toward the coast, Camden Hills State Park, and the inland ponds that dot the countryside. He built his home there a few years later and, not long after, cleared a small spot nearby where friends could pitch a tent.

That first site was as simple as it gets: Grass, a fire ring, a picnic table, and a view. But when Rod listed it on Hipcamp as ‘Magnificent View Blueberry Hilltop, open to tent campers and RVs, something clicked. Campers loved it. They came for the quiet, the sunsets, and in summer, to pick the wild blueberries that grow in every direction.

Listening and adapting

Over time, Rod became attuned to what mattered most to his campers. “It wasn’t the amenities,” he says. “It was the privacy—that feeling you’ve got the whole hill to yourself.”

So he made a change. Rod purchased another 80 acres of adjoining woodland and moved the campsite to a more secluded area. The new site sits at the top of a ridge, hidden from his home and surrounded by 100 acres of woods and open barrens.

There’s still no power or plumbing on site, but that’s the point. “You don’t need much more than a fire pit and a view,” he says.

Letting the land do the hosting

From the ridge, campers can see Owl’s Head Lighthouse and Matinicus Island on clear days. The sun rises over Ragged Mountain and the Camden Hills, and sets over Sennebec Pond and Appleton Ridge. On the very clearest mornings, even Mount Washington, peeks from the horizon 90 miles away.

Fifteen acres of wild blueberries ripple across the fields each summer. Rod harvests part of the crop commercially, packed, frozen, and shipped around the world, but leaves the wilder edges open for campers. “They can pick all they want—as long as they stay clear of the commercial rows,” he laughs. “There’s plenty for everyone.” Not to mention: The property is just down the road from the famed Union Fair Maine’s Wild Blueberry Festival, held every August.

Campers wander the land, sometimes finding wild raspberries or blackberries, or the old oak tree with a heart-shaped hollow in its trunk. They wake to birdsong, watch fireflies rise from the fields at night, and often go for days without seeing another person.

Campers describe the experience again and again with the same quiet awe. “The most beautiful place I have ever camped,” wrote one. “I watched the sun set in the west and the full moon rise in the east.” Another called it “pure isolation” and describes “fireflies so bright you couldn’t tell where the sky ended and the ground began.”

Rod smiles when he reads those reviews. “I barely ever meet the campers,” he says. “They like that. They’re not coming here to socialize anyway.”

A reminder that small can be powerful

For Rod, hosting isn’t about building a business empire—it’s about sharing something beautiful in a way that still feels true to him. What started as one small campsite now draws hundreds of visitors a year, each finding a little of the same peace that first drew him here.

Looking ahead, Rod plans to open two more sites next year, including one large enough to accommodate the biggest RVs. True to his original vision, each of the three total sites will be at least an eighth of a mile apart and out of view of one another, preserving the sense of privacy that campers love.

His success offers a quiet lesson for other landowners: You don’t need to build anything elaborate to create something meaningful. A view, a little space, and a willingness to share can be enough.

The takeaway for other Hosts

Rod’s story is proof that hosting doesn’t have to be complicated.

• Start small. One well-chosen site is plenty.
• Play to your strengths. Every property has something unique—a view, a grove, a pond, a patch of wildflowers.
• Keep it simple. Campers value peace and privacy more than luxury.
• Share what you love. That sincerity shows through in every stay.

For Rod, that’s the magic—offering people a taste of solitude, a handful of blueberries, and a view they’ll never forget.

“It’s nice to know people can come here, unwind, and feel what I feel about this place,” Rod says. “That’s what makes it worth it.”

How to start earning money hosting campers on your land

Inspired by this Host story? It’s easy to get started welcoming Hipcampers.