For over fifty years, a funny-looking fiberglass egg on wheels has been quietly winning the hearts of campers who just want something simple, tough, and cheap to pull behind whatever they drive. That egg is the Scamp trailer, built by a family shop in northern Minnesota that never got sucked into the giant corporate RV machine. While the rest of the industry chased slide-outs, 40-foot floorplans, and fake fireplaces, Scamp kept doing what it always did: mold two pieces of fiberglass together, bolt them to a frame, and send them out the door. No fluff, no nonsense.
Last week everything changed, but in the best possible way. Scamp finally gave in—not to luxury, not to size—but to dirt. Meet the Scamp X, the first factory off-road version of America’s favorite little fiberglass trailer.

Image credit: Scamp
The classic 13-foot Scamp has always been sneaky-tough. Light enough (usually under 1,800 pounds) that even a four-cylinder pickup or a decent SUV can towily tow it, and because there’s almost no wood to rot and almost no seams to leak, plenty of them are still rolling down the road from the Carter administration. Guys have been lifting them, swapping axles, and slapping bigger tires on them for years to get farther off the pavement. Scamp owners love posting pictures of their eggs parked next to mountain lakes or deep in the national forest, looking like they have no business being there—and getting away with it.
Now the factory is doing the work for you.
The Scamp X starts life as the familiar 13-foot shell—two molded fiberglass halves glued together at the beltline just like they’ve done since 1973. But underneath everything is new. Out goes the old torsion axle. In comes a Timbren 3500 HD axle-less independent suspension that lifts the whole trailer a full 18 inches off the ground. That’s higher than any Scamp ever left the factory, giving you a 17-degree approach angle up front and 22 degrees out back. Translation: you can crawl over rocks and ruts that would hang up a regular camper without scraping the belly.

Image credit: Scamp
A thick high-density polyethylene skid plate protects the underside, an articulating hitch keeps the coupler from binding on steep transitions, and the trailer rolls on real ST235/75R15 mud-terrain tires. Scamp even gave it aggressive little fender flares and a matte off-road graphics package so it looks the part when you roll into camp.
Inside, you still get that familiar Scamp smell—clean fiberglass and a hint of maple cabinetry. Two layouts are on the table. The Trek version keeps things open with a rear U-shaped dinette that makes into a 76x54 bed and a front sofa that converts to a narrow bunk—good enough for four if two of them are kids or don’t mind sleeping close. The Altitude layout swaps the front sofa for a real wet bath with shower and flush toilet (complete with its own black tank), turning the X into a true couples or solo rig.

Image credit: Scamp
The kitchen sits in the middle either way: two-burner propane stove, stainless sink, and a fridge that actually keeps beer cold. Cabinet doors are real maple with nickel pulls—nothing fancy, but it looks sharp against the gray fiberglass walls.
Off-grid upgrades come standard or optional depending on how serious you are. Dual 20-pound propane tanks replace the usual single bottle. You can add 400 watts of roof solar, lithium batteries, a roof rack, rear 2-inch receiver for bikes or cargo boxes, outdoor shower, even a Starlink setup with a flatscreen TV if you refuse to miss the game. Furnace and roof air are still options—Scamp figures some guys are happy cracking a window and running a catalytic heater.
Dry weight starts at 1,986 pounds and the trailer is rated to carry 3,500 gross, so there’s room for gear, water jugs, a cooler, or that chainsaw you swear you’ll need. Fresh water is still only 11.8 gallons (Scamp never claimed this was an expedition rig), but fill a couple 7-gallon Aquatainers and toss them in the tow vehicle and you’re fine for a long weekend.

Image credit: Scamp
Here’s the kicker: base price is $28,495. A regular 13-foot Scamp starts at $23,399, so you’re basically paying five grand for the lift, independent suspension, skid plate, bigger tires, and factory warranty on the whole shootin’ match. Try building it yourself and you’ll spend at least that in parts and busted knuckles—plus you lose the new-trailer warranty.
This isn’t some fake “adventure” package with black wheels and a sticker. The Scamp X won’t replace a full-on overland trailer with 35s and a rooftop tent, and nobody is claiming it will. But if you’ve got a Jeep, a Tacoma, an old Suburban, or even a Subaru Outback with a hitch, and you want to leave the campground and find a quiet spot where the only sound is a creek and maybe a distant elk bugle, the Scamp X will get you there without drama.
After half a century of sticking to its guns, Scamp finally built the trailer a whole bunch of its owners were already building in their driveways. Only now it’s better, warranted, and still won’t bankrupt you.
Sometimes the best new ideas are the ones people have been asking for since 1975. The Scamp X proves the little Minnesota company was listening after all.
