Rooftop Tent vs Ground Tent: An Overlanders Honest Confession

Camping has come a long way since my first trips as a kid. Maybe it wasn't intentional, but old-school camping felt engineered to build character. You went into the wilderness with a thin tent and a thinner sleeping bag. You hunted for the smoothest rock available and called it a pillow. And you did your very best to ignore the one mosquito that got into the tent and spent the night circling your head like a tiny, buzzing maître d' who had found the only table in the house. Dinner was a hot dog on a metal coat hanger. If you were lucky, your dad remembered the ketchup. If you were reallylucky, there was a bag of Lay's, which counted as a vegetable. S'mores were the luxury item. And everyone, except Smalls, knows the idea of a s'more is so much better than the actual s'more. (If you just got that reference, we're friends. If you didn't, go watch The Sandlotand come back.) These trips were kid bootcamp. The whole point was to make you appreciate whatever you had at home. Your bed. Your pillow. A roof that didn't leak, and a dinner that didn't taste like smoke and regret. Now look at the industry. The whole thing has flipped. Modern camping gear is about making the outside moreluxurious than the inside: memory foam, fireplaces, battery-powered everything, a couch in a field. And honestly? I'm not mad about it.

Then overlanding took over my life, and the math changed. My rig is the GTFO Land Cruiser, which has become one of the more recognizable builds out there. That's flattering, and also a little strange when people know your truck before they know you. But the bigger point is that in a Land Cruiser, space is a premium. Every inch is spoken for by gear, recovery equipment, water and food. There is no spare room for a giant inflatable tent, a couch, and a TV.

Janna Breslin's 2025 Land Cruiser 250 So the tent has to go on top. I started with a Front Runner rooftop tent, and I liked it. It folds out instead of closing like a clamshell, which gave Evan and me more room to spread out. My first night in it was sponsored by the same weather as the ASMR videos: it rained like crazy. But unlike my childhood tent, I stayed warm and dry. There was one catch. Every time either of us moved, the whole tent rocked. If this tent's a-rockin', don't come a-knockin'. I've since learned this isn't exclusive to the Front Runner. It comes standard on every rooftop tent I've tried. The first night was great. Taking it down in the freezing rain was a completely different story. My next rooftop tent was a Dirtbox, which is a clamshell. It has less room, but it's much easier to set up and take down. Like the Front Runner, it shakes if I roll over in the middle of the night. These days I sleep in it alone. That's not a change in relationship status. It's the lifestyle.

Which brings us to overlanders vs. campers. A quick disclaimer: these are my titles, not generally accepted vernacular. Campers are destination people.They pack as much gear as they can into whatever vehicle they have, drive somewhere, set up camp, and then the fun begins. Campers are more gear-centric and less vehicle-centric. The giant inflatable tent with the couch and the fireplace is a camper's dream, and I say that with love. Overlanders are journey people, both literally and musically. (If "Don't Stop Believin'" isn't on your top ten list of best songs ever, stop reading, call your therapist, and unwind whatever childhood trauma made you afraid of fun and awesomeness.) Overlanders are far more vehicle-centric. The truck is the campsite, the drive is half the point, and the rooftop tent is just the bedroom. On a recent trip to Arizona, I set up a luxury inflatable tent and my rooftop tent at Edge of the World. It was beautiful, and that experience is the basis for this article.

Land Cruiser on Imogen Pass next to Ram at lake Powell So, which one wins? Let's find out.

As I mentioned, these ASMR videos seem to be sponsored by El Niño, and I mean the Chris Farley version. (If you haven't seen that, I'm sorry you don't like fun.) So of course, my trip to Edge of the World, in Arizona of all places, was determined to give me my rainy ASMR moment. That wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to talk to a camera. But while the weather refused to cooperate, I still got every shot I needed for a complete walkthrough: setup and takedown of both tents, side by side. Here's how they scored. Each category is rated out of 5 (with one rogue exception), and I did not add them up, because this isn't a competition. It's a menu.

Under two minutes vs. about 25 and a hand pump

A bed with a roof vs. a mobile living room

Seven feet off the ground vs. ground level

This one isn't close. The rooftop tent sets up in under two minutes. The inflatable tent took about 25. I had to lay down a tarp, unroll the thing, and inflate it with a hand pump. You can use an electric pump, but I wanted the workout. (I got it. I regret it.) If your idea of a good time is arriving at camp and immediately having a drink, the rooftop tent wins. Rooftop is the clear winner.

Yes, that's a negative number. I checked the scale and decided it was a technicality. The rooftop tent comes down in almost the same amount of time it takes to put up. It's super simple, and breaking camp is measured in minutes. The inflatable tent is a whole different story. Forget taking down the bed, the couch, the fireplace, and the pretty string lights I'd hung inside. Those were my choices. The tent itself is like wrestling a damn crocodile, and yes, I know what that's like. Anyone who has owned something inflatable knows it almost never goes back into the bag it came out of. By the time I was done, I was hot and sweaty, and what I needed was a margarita and a beach vacation.

Both tents kept me dry, so rain wasn't the deciding factor. The difference is what each one is for. The rooftop tent is a sleeping tent. The inflatable tent is a mobile living room, with a queen-size bed, a couch, and a fireplace. When it poured at Edge of the World, I could stand up, walk around, and invite other people in. That's not camping. That's hosting. The rooftop tent can be enjoyable in the rain, especially if you like the ASMR stuff. But mostly it's a place to ride out the weather and catch up on Instagram gossip.

Beyond the simple ability to stand up, the inflatable tent gives you a sense of freedom once you get to camp. You can spread out, move around, and live there. The rooftop tent gives you a different kind of freedom: you can camp wherever you want. Both have real meaning when it comes to getting outside. But on pure space, the inflatable tent wins hands down.

The fireplace settles this one. Being able to light a fire during a cold spell makes the inflatable tent the clear winner, and it's hard to argue with a tent that comes with its own heat source. The rooftop tent still handled the weather just fine, so it loses only a single point.

I'm not talking about the elements here. I mean protection from everything else: bugs, animals, and people. The rooftop tent sits about seven feet off the ground, which gives you much better protection. Being at ground level makes it easier for anyone, or anything, unwanted to get to your tent. Nobody has ever been surprised by a raccoon at the top of a ladder.

This is where the rooftop tent shines. The inflatable tent is massive, heavy, and bulky. If you decide this style of camping is for you, it will take up the lion's share of what goes with you. The rooftop tent sits cleanly on top of your vehicle, out of the way, and only gets in the picture when you need it. In a Land Cruiser, where every inch is spoken for, that gap decides it.

The scorecard covers the obvious stuff. Now for the things that don't fit in a table. Why do I sleep alone in my rooftop tent? Size matters. (Get your mind out of the gutter. I'm talking about the tent.) It isn't horrible. But when you crawl in at night, shed whatever clothes you need to get down to your camping comfort level, climb into your bags, and try to sleep, a clamshell rooftop tent starts to feel crowded for two people. This is the deviation from old-school camping I mentioned earlier. My rooftop tent has a three-inch memory foam mattress topper, because I built it to be comfortable. I know how important sleep is, and I'm not a fan of anything that gets in its way. And when one person rolls over, the whole vehicle shakes, which easily wakes the other person.

Here is the big complaint, and it comes from Evan and almost everyone else I've talked to: the dreaded midnight pee. Or number two, if you had some seriously funky tacos for dinner. At home, when you have to go in the middle of the night, your brain handles it. Muscle memory gets you to the bathroom and back while you stay half asleep, which makes returning to slumber land that much easier. In a rooftop tent, it's a completely different story. You have to get dressed, put on shoes, unzip the tent, and climb down a ladder that might be treacherous even in broad daylight. At night, it's downright dangerous. The community at large has offered an alternative: pee in a bottle. It's easy, and it keeps your sleeping bag warm. No, thank you. One leaky bottle and I'd be in therapy for years.

So after my experiment at Edge of the World, where do I land on rooftop tent vs inflatable tent? Maybe it's my upbringing, where my family was often told to avoid making decisions. Or maybe it's that I hate making anyone feel bad, including inanimate objects like tents. Either way, I really can't decide. I can extol the virtues of both. In the end, it always comes down to where you're going and what you want when you get there. I just got back from a five-day trip in Moab where we never stayed in the same spot twice. With the inflatable tent, that would have cost me hours and made my rooftop friends hate me with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. Two weeks earlier, I was in Arizona when the rain set in, and all of my camp buddies congregated in the inflatable tent to ride out the storm. Both have a place in your camping arsenal if diversity (I don't mean an old wooden ship) is what you want from your outdoor gear. Choose the rooftop tent ifyou're an overlander. You're a single person, or two people, who want to brave the road less traveled, get somewhere off the beaten path, spend as little time as possible setting up and as much time as possible exploring, and you're only looking to sleep. Choose the inflatable tent ifyou want luxury and amenities. You want to bring the best of the indoors outside with you and create comfort and community. Your family is bigger than two people, and you want room for everyone. Each has its pros, and each has its cons. But such is life, my friends: there is always an opportunity cost.

Whatever you decide, the most important choice isn't the tent. It's the decision to get out there, to embrace the joy and discomfort of the journey, and to remember that we're a species whose lives were lived outside. Getting the F outside is a connection to people and to the world around us. So whether you fall asleep in a rooftop tent, a luxury inflatable tent, or just on the ground, the real reason to go is what happens beforeyou fall asleep. I can guarantee that sitting around a fire with friends, connecting and telling stories, eating a hot dog on a stick or a gourmet meal, is the real reason to be out there. Pick your tent, then pick your destination. And until next time: get the F outside.