\We recently stayed at what I can only describe as the worst private campground in Maine. From the moment we arrived, we sensed the place was run more like a fiefdom than a welcoming campground. The woman in charge—a cantankerous witch—made it clear early on that customer service wasn’t part of the package.
Things went downhill fast when a group of bikers set up right next to our site and fired up a gas generator that echoed. When I politely asked how long they planned to run it, I was told—in the true spirit of American hospitality—that“in America, we’re allowed to do whatever the f*** we want, that they were on vacay, and that it would only get louder from here.”
Apparently, they were right. When I brought the issue to the owner, hoping for some kind of help or enforcement of basic quiet hours, she basically told us tough luck. The bikers had paid over$500 for their spots, and if we didn’t like it, we were welcome to leave. No refund. No solution. Just aggressive indifference. In desperation, we relocated to a more remote, forested site—quieter, yes, but also swarming with mosquitoes all night and not at all what we paid for. Again, no refund. Not even a partial one. Just a shrug and an attitude.
This place is a racket—overpriced, poorly managed, and apparently tailored to the loudest, most entitled guests with the deepest wallets. If you’re hoping for peace, nature, or even basic respect as a customer, camp literally anywhere else.