Every campground has a cancellation policy. At most small parks, it's "depends who's asking" — decided on the phone, case by case, usually in favor of whoever sounds most disappointed.
That feels kind, but it costs you twice. You eat the empty site when a soft-hearted exception goes wrong, and your firm answers feel arbitrary because sometimes they weren't firm. The fix isn't getting tougher. It's writing the policy down and letting the writing be the tough one.
The three-line policy that covers most parks
A deposit of one night is charged at booking.
Cancel 7 or more days before check-in: full refund of your deposit. Cancel within 7 days of check-in: deposit is not refunded.
That's a complete policy. Here's why each piece earns its place:
The deposit at booking is the whole ballgame. A reservation with no money down isn't a reservation; it's a rumor. Deposits don't just protect you from no-shows — they make guests plan like people who've already paid, because they have.
The 7-day line matches how camping actually rebooks. A site released a week out has a real chance of selling again; a site released Thursday night for Friday mostly doesn't. Bigger parks near major destinations can use 14 days; the principle is "your refund window should match your rebooking window."
Keeping the deposit (not the whole stay) keeps the policy defensible. You're not punishing the guest — you're covering the night you probably can't resell. Policies guests read as fair get accepted without a phone call. Policies that read as punitive generate the exact negotiation calls you were trying to end.
Tune it to your park
- Long weekends and holidays: it's reasonable to make holiday-weekend deposits non-refundable, or extend the window. Say so explicitly — "Holiday weekends: 14 days" — rather than deciding in July.
- Cabins: longer window, bigger deposit. A cabin night is worth more and rebooks slower than a tent site.
- Weather: decide your rain answer now, in writing. "We don't refund for weather" and "we'll move your deposit to a future stay" are both workable; deciding per-phone-call is not.
- The one-time grace: you can always be more generous than your policy in a genuine emergency. A written policy doesn't take away your judgment — it takes away the expectation that judgment is available on demand.
Where the policy lives matters more than what it says
A policy that guests first hear about during the refund argument isn't a policy — it's a surprise. The policy has to be shown before the guest pays, in plain language, at the moment of booking. That does two things:
- It converts the policy from "your word against their memory" into an agreement.
- It quietly filters for guests who accept your terms, which are the guests you want.
This is where software does the unpleasant part for you. In Bunkpost, you write your policy once, every guest sees it before their card is charged, and every cancellation follows it automatically. Nobody negotiates with a checkout page, and the checkout page never makes an exception because someone sounded sad.
The goal isn't to win arguments. It's to stop having them.