After spending more than three months sequestered behind the same four walls, almost any dwelling can start to feel a little cramped. So why, when you finally have the opportunity to make a break for fresh scenery, would you willingly coop yourself up in a 22-foot trailer?

Because The Vintages (16205 SE Kreder Road, Dayton, 971-267-2130, the-vintages.com) offer an escape that is so unique, you won't even mind the size. And it's an experience that is both illusory and authentic: Even though these 35 compact homes on wheels were meant to be towed thousands of miles across the country, you're actually fixed in place in an RV park just off 99W in Yamhill County.

A weekend here is kind of like dragging sleepaway camp into adulthood, given the complimentary bicycles, propane grills and bucolic patchwork of vineyards, olive trees and forested groves in the nearby hills. Scaled-back amenities bend the spirit in a way that allows simple pleasures to fill you with delight, whether that's fixing your gaze on the star-flecked skies or tearing around the 14-acre lot on your bike with abandon.

But with cozy robes and a pour-over coffee set, you're certainly not going to suffer, and there's nothing terribly rustic about the experience—besides, perhaps, the trailer toilet, which isn't much bigger than an airplane lavatory. The Vintages are a toe in the water for anyone who's scared of sleeping on the ground and an absurdity to a survivalist who would be loath to call this camping-adjacent. That makes it pretty much perfect.

In addition to the sheer novelty of hunkering down in a lovingly rehabilitated, candy-colored, mid-20th century rig—or a retro-style model manufactured this millennium—with the option to yard bomb your site with plastic flamingos, booking an Airstream on the property is a way of paying tribute to one of the state's woefully neglected entrepreneurs. Wally Byam, who was born July 4, 1896, in the Eastern Oregon town of Baker City, grew up working on a sheep farm while living in a rudimentary wooden version of the travel trailer he would later go on to establish, motivated by his scorn for tent camping.

While Oregon's original King of the Road equipped his mobile abode with a stove and an ice chest, yours has been tricked out in ways he could never imagine. Depending on the model, trailers are fitted with everything from a soaking tub to a queen-sized bed enrobed in faux fur. All offer flat-screens that connect to streaming services. Or, you can unplug and play Texas Hold 'em with the free deck of cards provided at check-in and use sugar packets from your trailer's coffee bar as chips.

When the sun finally does set, head to the pair of Adirondacks on your patio. That's when the lights adorning the Vintages' maple trees flicker on, bathing the lane in a warm, golden glow. The communal fire pit, which closed months ago due to COVID-19, reopened July 1, with seating spread apart. But if you prefer to keep your distance by remaining in your driveway, you can score a pint-sized personal gas-powered fire ring, which toasts a marshmallow just as well as the real deal.