Campsgiving Becomes a Yearly Tradition

Chapter 17 of my work-in-progress camping memoir

Campsgiving 2018 in Louisiana with the whole Styf family.

I started working on a camping memoir five years ago but abandoned it after a year of detailed work because the time just wasn’t right. Now I am ready to get back to the work I started and turn it into a true memoir of the first 21 years of marriage and parenting. If you want to get regular updates on this project, please consider upgrading to a paid subscription.

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It was one of those simple conversations between spouses that seems inconsequential in the moment. We were sitting on the couch, probably watching television after the kids went to bed, when Jeff threw me a curveball. Surfing on his computer he looked at me and said, “How about we go camping for Thanksgiving?”

I’m pretty sure that I gave my husband that look that only Northern raised women can give their husbands when they suggest something like camping in late November. Besides, isn’t it an American tradition to gather with a lot of people you may or may not like, eat too much food, and then fight shopping crowds the next day to get the very best bargains to start Christmas shopping?

“Really?”

“Sure. It’s just going to be us, and you and the kids have extra days off of school. Why not find a camping spot and go?”

Even during the early years of our marriage, when I was still learning how to cook basic meals, we loved hosting Thanksgiving. During the five years that we lived in Indianapolis, we hosted Thanksgiving at least three of those years. Our four-day weekend fell in the weeks following the fall play, which I directed four out of the five years that we lived there. We were also hesitant to travel nearly two hundred miles up north to visit our parents when we would be turning around and making the trip again for Christmas. When we moved to Fort Wayne and our cooking skills significantly improved, we hosted members of our family at least three of those Thanksgivings, the largest being a group of seventeen people including one set of grandparents, both sets of parents, and a cousin who flew in from NYU because Indiana was closer than Washington State. By our last Indiana Thanksgiving, we had mastered the art of outdoor food preparation, braving the unpredictable northern weather to grill and deep fry (using our Charbroil oil-less deep fryer) at least two turkeys (and one an additional ham) to feed a small crowd for a couple of days.

The move to Texas meant that we would no longer have large crowds of family coming to our home. Our first year in Houston, Jeff’s parents came to visit, so we gladly fixed a small Thanksgiving dinner for six people. But our second year in Houston, we had no planned visitors. When Jeff proposed the camping trip, I had no legitimate reason for saying no. Besides, we were still bummed about not having taken a real vacation the summer before and we were eager to spend some quality time together as a family on our own terms.

So I said yes.

It didn’t take us long to discover that we were late to the game, at least in Texas. We wanted to find a site that would be both a new and interesting location, and one where we would be guaranteed nice enough weather for the end of November. Camping sites all around the state were already booked, which made us feel far less special about our decision to go camping for Thanksgiving. We finally found a site further down the Gulf of Mexico at Goose Island State Park and we started to plan. Since the kids and I had a full week off from school, we reserved Tuesday through Friday night, which we knew would give us plenty of time for relaxation, exploring, and an entire day to fix our own Thanksgiving dinner at our campsite.

Campsgiving was a go.

We took off for Goose Island State Park the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, driving 200 miles down the coast and arriving at dusk, forced to park the camper in our wooded spot with only a flashlights to lead the way. By the time we all crashed into bed, we already felt decompressed, like the holiday stress that normally hit us every Thanksgiving was a thing of the past. Even better, we had finally left southeast Texas, ready to explore more of the second largest state with our trip down the coast.

Our kids woke up the next morning ready to play and explore. They were going through a serious Harry Potter phase, prompted by our family listening to the books while we were on our summer trip up to visit family in Michigan. One of my favorite photos from our first Campsgiving is of our two kids, seven and five at the time, decked out in their Harry Potter robes from Halloween, carrying their wands, and wandering all over the empty campsite next door. They were in their own little world and they put themselves there without our encouragement. Lydia insisted on wearing her Ravenclaw robe for the entire day, regardless of where we traveled.

Instead working from sunrise to sunset the day before Thanksgiving preparing to host a large Thanksgiving meal, we spent the full day exploring our way down the coast. We walked along the pier to look out over the Gulf. We drove to the oldest coastal oak tree in Texas, which is safely fenced off on the outskirts of Goose Island State Park. The kids found other costal oaks to climb on, stepping over the exposed roots and pulling themselves up on the gnarled branches.

Then we drove towards Corpus Christi, Padre Island our intended.

But as we approached Corpus Christi, Jeff saw a sign for the USS Lexington, a retired aircraft carrier that is anchored along the Corpus coastline, open for tours. Jeff decided that we had to stop. I looked at the clock. It was approaching lunchtime, I had no idea how much it would cost, and I still wanted to make it to the Padre Island visitor center before it closed.

We stopped anyway.

We climbed the stairs from one level to the next. The kids scrambled into planes and sat down at the guns on the deck. They laid down on bunks and sat in dentist chairs. We read the signs to them and all of us learned about an aircraft carrier that had been around since World War II. And we left ready to sit for an hour or two as we continued our drive down the coast.

Despite my concerns, we still made it to Padre Island National Seashore before the visitor center closed, which meant that all of us got our passport stamps and the kids got to explore the displays, the most interesting being the information on the sea turtles that hatch along the beach every spring. Then we did what we had never been able to do on a Thanksgiving weekend; we walked along the beach, the salty waves wash over our kids’ feet as they picked up seashells that had washed up on the shore.

When that region suffered a direct hit during Hurricane Harvey less than a year later, and before the flood inducing rains hit the Houston area, Jeff and I watched the region that we had fallen in love with get pummeled by the Category 4 wind and rain. Mustang Island State Park, which had been our first choice when we made our Thanksgiving plans in 2017, was devastated, and Padre Island also suffered significant damage. It was surreal to think that places we had visited less than a year before were suddenly rebuilding because of a hurricane.

We returned back to the camper in time to have a campfire, temperatures dropping just enough to justify the long pants and long sleeves that warded off the late fall mosquitoes. For the first time in years, we looked forward to a Thanksgiving feast without the pressures of staying up late to make our house presentable to the friends and family who would be coming over.

The next day we started our Thanksgiving preparations in the late morning. Even though there would only be the four of us (with leftovers presented to the dogs) we went all out. Jeff set up our propane powered oil-less deep fryer for making our turkey, I peeled potatoes and started cooking them on our three-burner cook stove, adding corn, gravy, and stuffing to the mix as we got closer to a cooked turkey. For a finishing touch, I used our mini Traeger as a makeshift oven (we could never get our camper oven to work as well as we wanted it to) and baked our Pillsbury crescent rolls.

In the end, we proved that we could successfully make a traditional Thanksgiving meal entirely outside using all of the equipment that we already owned.

Instead of spending our Thanksgiving day doing last minute cleaning before everyone arrived and trying to keep the house clean after everyone was finished eating, we enjoyed a delicious meal. Instead of reading through a newspaper to make our divide and conquer plans for Black Friday, Jeff relaxed in the hammock, the kids used sidewalk chalk to draw all over the concrete slab underneath our picnic table, and we wrapped up our day with a seashell hunt along the water and a sunset walk along the pier.

And when we packed up to head home on Friday, our thoughts weren’t about what sales we were missing because we weren’t at home, we were reliving memories of our family time together. That’s not to say that we didn’t enjoy the many times we hosted family and friends over the years for Thanksgiving dinner and fellowship. But we appreciated the escape from the overblown holiday expectations and we enjoyed the time together as a family.

We were completely prepared to declare Campsgiving a success.

The following spring, we started early so we could be more deliberate about our Thanksgiving camping plans. Again, we wanted someplace new but we also wanted to make sure we didn’t go too far north. Our numbers also grew. Jeff’s sister and her husband started to hint that they might be interested in driving down from Colorado to join us. Friends suggested that they might also be interested in coming with us, getting their own site with her parents. And so we looked for a Texas state park that would meet all of those needs. We initially tried to get a spot at Dinosaur Valley State Park, but it was already full for the holiday, so we found another state park that was close enough for us to still allow for a day trip to Dinosaur Valley.

Cleburne State Park would be our new destination.

Since the kids didn’t have the entire week off, we changed our plans to a Wednesday through Saturday trip this time. That Wednesday morning we pulled the camper out of the storage facility and pulled in front of the house, ready to load up our standard camping supplies, and then some. After all, this wasn’t just any camping trip. We were also hosting Thanksgiving dinner for seven additional people. Sure, everyone else was bringing dinner fixings, but we have a ridiculous amount of pride when it comes to hosting an event in our own house, and that pride extended to hosting an event at our campsite. We brought it all. We had turkey, potatoes, gravy, Pillsbury crescent rolls, green beans, and all the necessary food to feed a whole crew for three days. Once again, we pulled out the oil-less deep fryer for our once-a-year turkey preparation and got it ready for cooking the turkey that we had sitting in our RTIC cooler.

We arrived early enough on Wednesday to get camp set up in the daylight and waited for Jeff’s sister and family to arrive. Having traveled 200 miles north of Houston, we prepared for nights under 40 degrees, wood piled high and hot chocolate and coffee at the ready.

The next morning, we dove into Thanksgiving preparations. When our friends arrived with roasted turkey and stuffing, we were already cooking potatoes, the second turkey was in the oil-less fryer, the mini Traeger was read to bake the crescent rolls (and I proceeded to burn the first batch), and my sister-in-law had started the collard greens. By mid-afternoon, we had all managed to stuff ourselves with a feast that was spread out over a picnic table, camping tables, and the camping chairs scattered around our campsite. 

The next day, instead of heading to stores to buy things we didn’t need or really want, our whole crew headed to Dinosaur Valley State Park to hop across the Paluxy River, hunt for fossilized dinosaur tracks, and hike to the top of the overlook. Kids and adults carefully avoided (or accidentally discovered) the cool river waters, took pictures sitting in Sauropod tracks, and sometimes hiked, sometimes climbed the long trail that led to spectacular views and the sudden dinging of adult cell phones finding service for the first time in two days. Yes, even though we were only an hour and a half from downtown Dallas, we had spent nearly 48 hours off the grid, and it had been wonderful. While we laughed about our ability to finally “Check In” in social media, we could be truly thankful that for our Thanksgiving break, we had been forced to put down the devices that too often distract us.

The news of our second successful Campsgiving convinced Jeff’s entire family that they wanted in on the action the following year. With a sister in Colorado, a sister and family in Florida, and Jeff parents and youngest sister in Michigan, picking a location that was going to be warm enough while cutting down the drive for everyone, proved to be a challenge. Jeff and I finally suggested Louisiana, proposing that if we found a state park that was close enough to New Orleans, we would be able to spend a day exploring the city as part of our family gathering.

Suddenly, our quiet family Thanksgiving became decidedly less quiet.