The Overlanding Hangover: Why the Market Feels Burnt Out—and What Comes Next
- Brian Konold
- Oct 11
- 11 min read
In 2020, overlanding was the golden child of pandemic-era escapism. With borders closed and flights grounded, Americans turned to the open road. Rooftop tents became status symbols. Instagram feeds filled with lifted Tacomas, solar setups, and fridge/freezer flexes. It was a movement—until it wasn’t.
Now, in late 2025, the overlanding market feels palpably different. Not dead. Not dying. But sobered—like a campfire crowd after the last beer’s been cracked and the stories have turned reflective. The adrenaline of the pandemic-era boom has faded, replaced by a quieter, more deliberate rhythm. The hype wave that once surged through social media feeds, expo halls, and checkout carts has crested. What remains is a leaner, more intentional community—one that’s no longer chasing the aesthetic of adventure, but interrogating its substance.
This shift isn’t just anecdotal—it’s measurable. Industry reports show a 5–7% dip in expo attendance despite a rise in vendor participation. Rooftop tent sales have plateaued. Fridge/freezer returns are up. And across forums, marketplaces, and group chats, the tone has changed. Buyers are asking harder questions: Does this gear actually improve my experience? Is this lifestyle sustainable with my schedule, my budget, my bandwidth? What’s the real ROI—not just in dollars, but in joy, clarity, and connection?
It’s a reckoning. A recalibration. A moment where the overlanding community is peeling back the layers of performative adventure and confronting the realities beneath. The logistics. The loneliness. The cost. The fatigue.
And in that confrontation, something rare is emerging: authenticity. Fewer flex builds. More functional rigs. Less “look at me,” more “here’s what works.” The market isn’t collapsing—it’s evolving. And the people still standing are the ones who’ve traded hype for hard-earned wisdom.
The Gear Graveyard - Why the Market Feels Burnt Out
Scroll through Reddit, Facebook Marketplace, or any overlanding group and you’ll see the same refrain:
“Selling my RTT—used twice.” “Built the rig, never found time to use it.” “Overlanding was fun until I realized I just wanted to camp.”
This isn’t just anecdotal. It’s systemic. During the boom, thousands of buyers dove headfirst into the lifestyle—often without fully understanding what it demanded. They bought rooftop tents, recovery boards, dual battery systems, and $3,000 suspension kits. They built rigs that looked incredible on social media but rarely left the driveway.
Now those same rigs are being parted out. The gear is gathering dust. And the dream is being re-evaluated.
Because for many, this wasn’t just a hobby—it was supposed to be a lifeline. A way to reclaim freedom, escape the noise, and reconnect with something real. But somewhere between the gear hauls and the Instagram reels, the clarity got lost. The promise of simplicity turned into a spreadsheet of packing lists, permit deadlines, and mechanical prep. The trail became another task. The solitude, another stressor.
And now, in the quiet moments—when the tent hasn’t been opened in months, when the fridge still hums in the garage, when the suspension kit sits pristine but unused—there’s a deeper question surfacing:
Did I build this for adventure, or for validation?
It’s not shame. It’s not failure. It’s the natural consequence of a culture that sold the aesthetic of escape without preparing people for the logistics, the emotional weight, and the reality of what it takes to truly disconnect.
For those feeling this—who stare at their rig and wonder if it was all worth it—you’re not alone. The burnout is real. The fatigue is valid. And the re-evaluation? That’s not a step backward. It’s the first honest move forward.
Burnout in the Wild
The fantasy of overlanding—freedom, adventure, self-reliance—collided with reality and "Outdoors-Cosplay". And reality hit hard.
Trip planning fatigue set in. What started as spontaneous trail runs turned into spreadsheets of route mapping, permit deadlines, gear checklists, and weather contingencies. The logistics became relentless. Every trip felt like a mini-expedition, and the mental load rivaled a full-time job.
Social media didn’t help. It amplified the pressure. Aesthetic builds, cinematic drone shots, and influencer perfectionism created a false baseline. Suddenly, it wasn’t enough to explore—you had to perform. Your rig had to look dialed. Your campsite had to be photogenic. Your meals had to be plated like a backcountry Michelin chef. And if you weren’t documenting it, did it even happen?
Real-world constraints piled on. Work schedules, family obligations, and rising travel costs chipped away at spontaneity. Gas prices climbed. PTO vanished. And for many, the solitude they craved turned into isolation. What was supposed to be spiritual clarity became mechanical failure in the woods—alone, tired, and wondering why the hell they bought a $4,000 tent they barely used.
The result? A wave of burnout posts:
“I’m over it. Selling everything.” “Anyone else feel like this lifestyle is more stress than joy?” “Burned out. Going back to weekend camping.”
These aren’t just venting. They’re signals. Indicators of a market that’s recalibrating. The vibe shift is real—but it’s more than mood. It’s a correction. A shedding of the performative layer. A return to function over flex.
Because beneath how the market feels burnt out burnout is a truth many are finally admitting: overlanding isn’t just gear and grit—it’s bandwidth. Emotional, logistical, financial. And when that bandwidth runs dry, even the most dialed rig can feel like dead weight.
This isn’t just a vibe shift. It’s a market correction.
OEM Overreach: When Automakers Imitate Adventure
In the last 24 months, major automakers have flooded the outdoor market with “adventure trims,” “trail-ready packages,” and “overland editions” that promise capability—but often deliver cosmetic upgrades.
Think blacked-out wheels, roof rails, and a badge that says “Trail” or “Wilderness,” slapped on a platform that still runs stock suspension, lacks recovery points, and wouldn’t survive a moderate trail without scraping its undercarriage.
We all remember that first viral Raptor video—the one where a “Adrenaline-drunk” and highly endorphined Ford fanboy sent his brand-new released Ford Raptor truck flying 70 feet through the air, landed hard enough to deploy all ten airbags, and somehow coasted out of frame in neutral with a shattered suspension and a bruised ego. It was spectacle masquerading as capability. And it became the unofficial mascot of a growing problem: OEM adventure packages that look the part but fold under pressure.
That moment wasn’t just entertaining—it was emblematic. It captured the disconnect between what automakers sell and what real-world adventure demands. Because when the dust settles and the adrenaline fades, capability isn’t measured in launch angles—it’s measured in recovery points, suspension travel, and whether your rig can get you home without a tow.
It’s all a part of adventure imitation at scale. And it’s confusing the market.
Subaru, Ford, Toyota, Jeep, and yes—even Rivian have all leaned hard into the lifestyle narrative—pitching their vehicles as turnkey adventure rigs.
But for many buyers, these packages blur the line between real capability and marketing theater; hence why all auto brand TV ads have that tiny disclaimer that flashes at the bottom of the screen,"Professional driver on a closed course, do not try this on public roadways"
The result? Gear fatigue and buyer hesitation. People pause before investing in aftermarket upgrades because they’re unsure what their factory setup actually needs—or whether it’s already “good enough.”
What was once a clear line between enthusiast-built rigs and showroom SUVs has blurred. Buyers are being sold the look of capability without the function. And a lot of that has to do with warranty claims and cost factors when dealers start installing aftermarket products themselves. And that illusion is stalling progression, muddying expectations, and diluting the credibility of real gear brands.
As someone who spent time inside well-respected Ford, Nissan, and Toyota dealerships in Southern California for over 8 years, I saw firsthand how the game is played. Dealers source aftermarket gear at wholesale rates, then mark it up—often by 25% or more over retail—before tacking on further those installation fees too.
But the real kicker? They roll it all into your vehicle financing. That means you're not just paying more upfront—you’re paying interest on inflated gear costs for the next 60-84 months. Just because they found a monthly payment that fits your budget doesn’t mean they weren’t putting the screws to you. It’s debt dressed as convenience.
OEM packages cannibalize entry-level upgrades. If your Bronco comes with 33s and a roof rack, do you really need to buy sliders or a fridge mount right away?
Dealership installs dilute brand loyalty. When a buyer gets a “lift kit” installed at the dealer, they often don’t know if it’s Bilstein, King, or a generic spacer—and worse yet, many don’t care, until they have to care. That erodes the credibility of real gear brands.
The illusion of readiness stalls progression. Buyers think they’re trail-ready, then hit a real route and realize their “off-road edition” bottoms out on washboard. But by then, they’re burned out or broke.
The Market Isn’t Dead—It’s Maturing
The market isn’t dead—it’s evolving. And the numbers prove it. According to the 2025 Overland Industry Report, more than 12 million Americans will overland this year, up from 8 million in 2024. That’s a 50% jump in participation, signaling that the appetite for vehicle-based adventure is still strong. But beneath that growth is a shift in who’s driving it—and why.
The dabblers are fading. The flex crowd—the ones who built rigs for likes, not logistics—is quiet. What remains are intermediate users, the backbone of the current market. These are people with 1–5 years of experience who take four or more trips annually. They’re not chasing clout. They’re chasing clarity. And they’re spending with purpose.
In fact, 95% of overlanders modify their rigs, but the upgrades aren’t about flash—they’re about function. Lighting, storage, and durability top the list. One in four overlanders has spent over $20,000 on vehicle modifications, but they’re asking harder questions now: Does this make my trip easier? Safer? More enjoyable? If the answer’s no, it’s out.
This is a market pivoting from aesthetics to utility. Brand reputation now drives 81% of purchasing decisions, outweighing technical specs. Buyers want gear that works, lasts, and solves real problems. They’re less interested in what looks good on a feed and more focused on what holds up on a trail.
Communities are shifting too. The tone of conversation has changed. Less “look at my build,” more “here’s how I solved this trail problem.” Forums and expos are full of gear audits, trip debriefs, and real-world feedback. The performative layer is peeling off. What’s left is leaner, more authentic, and more sustainable.
And that’s exactly where 12° North Industries thrives. We're not known for chasing trends—we're engineering solutions. From our suspension systems offerings, gear audits, and modular upgrade paths are built for this new wave of overlanders: the ones who’ve burned out on cosplay and are ready for clarity. We speak the language of ROI, not FOMO. Because in a market that’s maturing, credibility isn’t optional—it’s everything.
So What is Selling?
The gear market in late 2025 isn’t chasing hype—it’s chasing utility. And the shift is unmistakable. Buyers aren’t building rigs overnight anymore. They’re building in stages, over time, as they discover their niche in the wild—whether that’s weekend camping, backcountry hiking, kayak expeditions, or shoreline fishing. The full-build mindset hasn’t vanished—it’s matured. And 12° North Industries is re-centering to support that evolution.
High-dollar suspension systems are whats moving—but only among serious users who understand what they’re buying. Full suspension kits from leading top brands are selling well because they solve real problems: ride quality, load handling, terrain adaptability. These aren’t flex purchases. They’re functional upgrades for people who’ve outgrown stock limitations and want their rig to match their ambition. No longer are off the shelf random components the go-to anymore.
Recovery gear is hot—because it’s essential. Traction Boards, closed systems, and winches are moving fast, especially among intermediate users who’ve had one sketchy trail moment too many. These aren’t “just in case” tools anymore. They’re part of the core kit.
Navigation tools like Garmin Tread/Overlander, OnX Offroad, and Gaia GPS subscriptions are seeing steady growth. Not because they’re trendy—but because they reduce friction. They help users plan smarter, travel safer, and explore deeper without the guesswork.
Lighting upgrades are booming as always,.. the "lights before lift" hazing has been shouted across many campsites for a long time. Light Bars straight or grouped pods, are leading the charge—not for aesthetics, but for visibility, safety, and trail confidence. Buyers are prioritizing function with pod systems such as: ditch lights for night recovery, amber fogs for dust trails, and scene lighting for campsite setup.
Onboard air systems are gaining traction too. Compressors, PowerTank CO2 systems, and other kits are selling because they support real use cases—tire inflation, air or E-lockers, and trail repairs.
Some of these aren’t just “nice to haves.” They’re operational tools.
Modular storage systems are quietly dominating. Goose Gear, Front Runner drawer kits, and DECKED are moving steadily, especially among users who’ve transitioned from “weekend warrior” to “multi-day planner.” Organization is no longer optional—it’s the difference between chaos and clarity.
Meanwhile, rooftop tents and fridge/freezers are stagnating. Not because they’re bad—but because they were overbought during the boom. Many buyers realized they didn’t need a $3,000 tent to enjoy the outdoors. They needed a reliable sleep system that fit their actual use case. The same goes for fridge/freezers. Unless you’re running multi-day expeditions or hauling perishables, a cooler and smart provisioning often do the job.
This is where 12° North shines. We don’t push full builds on day one, unless that is where you are at in your research and decision making. We guide users through staged upgrades—starting with suspension and recovery, then dialing in lighting, storage, and air systems as their outdoor identity evolves with a total build sheet with change-orders in mind as needs change. Whether you’re chasing trout in the Rockies, paddling through Michigan’s inland lakes, or just escaping the concrete-grid anywhere for a weekend, we help you build a rig that fits—not flaunts. Because in 2025, the smartest builds aren’t the most expensive. They’re the most intentional.
The 12° North Solution: From Burnout to Balance
This is where 12° North Industries steps in—not with more gear, but with smarter gear strategy. We’re not chasing the tail end of a trend. We’re building for what comes next.
We understand the fatigue. We’ve seen the burnout. We’ve talked to the weekend warriors who haven’t touched their rooftop tent in six months. We’ve heard from the full-timers who hit a wall after their fifth breakdown in the backcountry. And we’ve watched the forums shift from “What should I buy?” to “What do I actually need?”
We’re not here to sell you another bolt-on or to watch you walk out the door with a box under your arm. We’re here to help you recalibrate.
Our suspension packages—featuring ICON Vehicle Dynamics, King Off-Road Racing Shocks, and Radflo—are built for real-world use, not showroom flex. Tuned for control, durability, and adaptability, they’re designed to make your rig feel like an extension of your intent. Whether you’re crawling through rock gardens, hauling gear to a remote kayak launch, or navigating forest service roads to your favorite fishing hole, our setups deliver precision without the drama.
But more importantly, we help you strip the noise.
We offer gear audits to help you assess what’s working and what’s just weighing you down. We provide trip planning support that prioritizes clarity over complexity. And we build modular upgrade paths that evolve with you—whether you’re just starting out or refining a rig that’s already seen a few seasons.
Because overlanding isn’t about having everything. It’s about having what works. It’s about building a rig that reflects your rhythm, your terrain, your version of escape. And that takes time. It takes intention. It takes a partner who knows the difference between performance and posturing.
If you’re feeling the fatigue, you’re not alone. The market is shifting. The hype is fading. And what’s emerging is a more grounded, more intentional way to explore—one that values experience over excess, clarity over clutter, and capability over clout.
12° North is here for that. Not to sell the dream—but to support the reality. To help you build a rig that works as hard as you do, and goes exactly where you need it to—without the burnout.
Editors Note::
"As the overlanding and off-road market pivots toward modular builds, experience-driven upgrades, and outdoor versatility, 12° North Industries is recalibrating. We're shifting our product strategy to align with 2026’s evolving demand—refining our brand partnerships, streamlining inventory, and focusing on gear that supports real-world use across overlanding utility, camping, hiking, kayaking, and fishing. This isn’t just a refresh—it’s a strategic realignment to serve the next wave of explorers with clarity, capability, and credibility."
12° NORTH INDUSTRIES
Sales: 702.781.0302
Email: sales@12degnorth.com
Website: www.12degnorth.com
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