Camp Stories: A Prescription for Peace of Mind

Feeling overwhelmed at work? The insanity of current politics stressing you out? Can't handle the barrage of social media a minute longer?

The Rx I'm recommending won't be found in a pill or a bottle, or by turning off the lights and pulling the covers over your head. I'm not even advising you to shut down your computer and turn off your devices.

Simply go where none of those screens will work, where your coworkers can't find you, where there's no news but the sun transiting your campsite, the trees shifting in the breeze and the sound of a creek chattering in the background.

For years we've been avoiding the war zone that erupts in the city over the Fourth of July by heading to a small national forest campground where fireworks and nighttime noise are strictly verboten, where our dogs don't need to be drugged and we can sleep in the dead quiet of a night so dark you can't see your hand waving in front of your face. But the real benefit, one we appreciated even more in this seemingly daily onslaught of "can you top this" craziness on the national political scene, is the peace, the quiet, the lack of demand for our attention other than cooking meals, washing dishes and the occasional call to sit by the creek and read a book.

Imagine that!

This year we managed to reserve a prime creek-side campsite at one of our favorite campgrounds, the aptly named Paradise Creek in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest just north of Carson, Washington. Small at just 42 sites and basic—vault toilets, dirt sites and a handled pump for water—it discourages large RVs and provides a modicum of simple activities like biking around the campground, playing in the creek and a few hikes nearby.

I'd made and frozen a batch of my Coney Island sauce and picked up some smoked dogs from Old Salt Marketplace, and then froze a pot of pork shoulder braised in tomatillo salsa—freezing as much as possible helps keep things cold as well as saves room in the ice chest—that we could warm up for dinners. A couple of steaks, Dave's scone mix to stir up and bake, breakfast and lunch fixin's and cocktail makings and we were set for our four-night stay.

Our neighbors Chad and Ann joined us for the second day, bringing their dogs and what turned out to be a spectacular camp dinner of shrimp, andouille sausage, corn and potatoes cooked in foil packets on the campfire coals (left and top photo). This is one I'll be making again here at home, since it's perfect for cooking on charcoal in the Weber. With a salad on the side and an ice-cold glass of rosé to sip, it's the definition of summer.

Good food, good drink, good friends, the basic necessities of life and a beautiful setting; it's a prescription for a good, stress-free life. I can't recommend it highly enough.

Shrimp, Andouille Sausage and Corn Campfire Packets
Adapted from Creme de la Crumb

1 lb. potatoes, cut into 1" cubes
2 ears sweet corn
1/2 lb. andouille sausage, sliced into 1/4" rounds
1 1/2 lbs. shrimp
1 Tbsp. minced garlic
3 Tbsp. olive oil
3 Tbsp. Old Bay seasoning (or make your own)
1 Tbsp. salt
Lemon wedges

Bring a medium saucepan of water to boil. Add potatoes and parboil 5 minutes. Drain.

Shuck the ears of corn and slice each one crosswise into four rounds. Stand each round on end and slice in half lengthwise. In large mixing bowl combine potatoes, corn, sausage and shrimp with garlic, olive oil, paprika, Old Bay seasoning and salt.

Cut four 12" squares (or so) of aluminum foil. Divide the shrimp mixture into quarters, putting each on a piece of foil (you can redistribute the number of ingredients in each packet to even them out). Seal the packets and place on coals. Cook for 10 minutes, turn them over and cook another 5-6 minutes. Take one packet out and test for doneness. Serve one packet per person with lemon wedges for squeezing over the top.

Find more great campground and recipe suggestions in the Camp Stories series.

Camp Stories: Return to Paradise

It was the Fourth of July and at 10 o'clock at night it was pitch dark and instead of sounding like a war zone, with booms, cracks, flashing lights and sulphurous clouds of smoke drifting across the battlefield of competing patriotic displays, all we could hear was the quiet burble of the Wind River as it rushed over rounded stones on its way to join the Columbia.

Camp cocktails? Yes, please!

Rather than having to drug our dogs, or watch them pant and shiver and pace through the conflagration—"Go outside? No thanks, I'll just hold it till tomorrow."—they were bedded down quietly at the other end of the tent we'd pitched at Paradise Creek campground in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest north of Carson, Washington.

Our annual pilgrimage, which had ballooned in past years to 14 people in five campsites but this year, for various reasons, numbered only five members in two sites, was a much simpler affair but no less delicious (or fun). While a big group of good friends has always been a blast, fewer people meant much less coordination, and led to simpler packing—salami and cheese instead of dozens of fresh oysters—and much more time reading in beach chairs streamside.

Cast iron-baked scones.

I'd wanted to try my hand at a campfire paella and Dave was itching to use his cast iron, footed Dutch oven to make scones using a perforated cast iron trivet to prevent scorching (left). And of course we had the usual fixings for negronis and martinis to help smooth any bumps in our mattresses at night.

The paella (top photo) was amazingly simple, since I used the frozen stock in place of one of the bags of ice in the freezer chest, and had simplified the list of main ingredients to chicken, frozen shrimp, olives and chorizo. Thanks to Dave's expert fire-building, the split dry fir from the "Camp Wood!" guys down the road burned down to a lovely bed of coals. A little sautéing over the fire, then adding the stock over the top and a half hour later—just enough time for a cocktail, thank you—dinner was ready.

Breakfast of champions.

The scones were a tour de force, and even Dave admitted that he was as surprised as anyone that they turned out so well. He'd mixed the dry ingredients at home, then added the rest at camp. Then it was flattening the dough, cutting it in segments, and putting it on parchment paper on the trivet in the bottom of the preheated Dutch oven. There was a little concern that the oven hadn't gotten up to temperature, but when the time was up he opened the lid and that flattened disk of dough had turned into perfectly light and fluffy scones. Needless to say, there was much oohing and aahing around the breakfast table.

And me? I'll take these kind of fireworks over the other kind any time.

For an idea of how to make paella on a campfire, check out my recipe for paella on the grill.

Camp Stories: Chorizo, Chicken and Steak, Oh My!

Tea ceremonies. Church services. Thanksgiving dinner. Heck, even a game of Flip Cup. All rituals with their own processes and rhythms.

Just a little piperade, home-smoked bacon and polenta…for breakfast!

So it is with our annual Fourth of July Free-For-All camping extravaganza at Paradise Creek on the flanks of Mt. Adams. It starts with reserving our campsites at the crack of the new year in January to get our creekside spots. The first haphazard organizing starts in early June with e-mails going back and forth about head counts and guesses about the weather, really just an excuse to vent some excitement about the trip.

Fresh oysters? Don't mind if I do!

This year the group consisted of 11 adults, one toddler and five dogs sharing three campsites. Two of our regular crew couldn't make it, so two victims…um, I mean, friends…were asked if they'd like to come. A couple from San Francisco, they were city folk who'd never been camping before, and to everyone's amazement (and delight) they accepted.

Chorizo tacos…yum!

A week or so ahead of time there was a flurry of messages about what people were bringing, and one of the more organized among the group devised a loose menu. We volunteered a few pounds of Dave's home-smoked bacon and a few dozen eggs from a friend's chickens. I offered to make chorizo tacos the first night, since I'd run across some crazy good chorizo at the Beaverton Farmers' Market. Called Don Felipe, it's made by Salud and Angela Gonzalez in the style of their native Toluca, Mexico. It was paired with a cabbage slaw and local Don Froylan cotija cheese, all nestled in fresh handmade tortillas from Por Que No (at $3 a dozen, a steal).

Steak for 11? No problem!

A group that size meant there was a plethora of activities to choose from, including hiking, reading by the stream, playing board games, napping, going for a beer at Backwoods Brewing in Carson or just hanging out. There were several cocktail-meisters in the crew and all kinds of libations were shaken, stirred and poured into (gasp!) real glassware.

One evening's appetizer selection.

No slackers in the food department, there were fresh oysters shucked with French oyster knives, an Asian ramen salad sided a grilled-on-a-Weber marinated chicken and there was the obligatory "Steak & Corn Night." Each evening's appetizers ranged from salami to a borage flower-accessorized cheese platter to fig-accented chevre. This is a group that makes camping not just painless, but a true pleasure. Even our two newbs were convinced that sleeping on pads on the ground wasn't such a crazy thing to do…and they proved it by signing up for next year's trip.

Chorizo Tacos with Cabbage Slaw

Salud and Angela's Don Felipe red chorizo is made with dried red chiles and spices, with a deep but not intense heat. The green chorizo is an intriguing and uniquely Tolucan mix of spinach, serrano pepper, pumpkin seeds, garlic, onion and spices. It's also somewhat spicy and very lovely. You can buy it at the Beaverton Farmers' Market on Saturdays from 8 am to 1:30 pm or at the Forest Grove Farmers' Market on Wednesdays from 4 to 8 pm.

For the slaw:
1/2 head green cabbage
1/2 head purple cabbage
3 carrots, grated
1 c. mayonnaise
1/2 c. sour cream
2 Tbsp. rice vinegar
Salt to taste

For the tacos:
2 Tbsp. vegetable oil
3 lbs. Don Felipe chorizo, or any fresh Mexican chorizo
1 onion, chopped fine
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 to 1 lb. cotija cheese, crumbled
3 dozen corn tortillas
Salsa, Crystal Hot Sauce or Czar's Pinot and Habanero Sauce

Slice each half cabbage lengthwise into quarters. Remove core by placing quarter on its side and slicing at an angle around the core. Slice quarter in half lengthwise, then slice it crosswise into thin shreds. Repeat with rest of cabbage. Place in large mixing bowl with shredded carrots. In a small bowl, combine mayo, sour cream, rice vinegar and salt. Stir until smooth, adjusting seasonings to taste (you can even add sugar, though I don't). Pour over cabbage and toss to combine.

Heat vegetable oil in large skillet over medium-high heat. Add chorizo and sauté till browned. Add onion and garlic and sauté till tender. Briefly heat tortillas on cast iron griddle or skillet.

Fill tortillas with small amount of chorizo, slaw and a sprinkling of cheese, as well as sauce (if desired).

Read other Camp Stories in the series: last year's trip to Paradise Creek, Trout Creek Campground, Shadow Bay at Waldo Lake, LaPine State Park, Indian Crossing Campground, Frog Lake Campground, Patrick's Point State Park, Harris Beach State Park, Moss Creek Campground and our first trip to Paradise Creek.

Camp Stories: A Weekend in Paradise

There are some traditions in my family that are not to be messed with: Christmas dinner means turkey and fixin's…no suggestions of ham, lamb or other funny business allowed. Same goes for Thanksgiving. And Friday evenings are invariably kicked off with Dave's martinis garnished with Spanish anchovy-stuffed olives.

Instant classic: the Sierra cup martini.

Now it looks like the fourth of July is becoming another don't-mess-with-the-best formula: a minimum of three nights of tent camping with a group of four couples sharing food and drink at what has been officially voted (by us) as a 10-out-of-10 campground, Paradise Creek in the Gifford-Pinchot National Forest just north of Carson, Washington.

Classy glassware? Who needs it?

A mere 90 minutes from Portland, it's pretty primitive, meaning no showers, flush toilets or hook-ups for big rigs. But that also means it's devoid of roaring generators, loud music and crowds of marauding children on dirt bikes. Instead the air is filled with the smell of campfire smoke and the sound of the small creek that flows by, and the night sky through the trees is studded with millions of stars.

New classic: Coney sauce.

This year we had dibs on making dinner the first night, so instead of trying to relive the success of last year's campfire posole I decided to try my hand at that hallowed American specialty known as the Coney Island hot dog. What I came up with is definitely a twist on the traditional, but what can you expect from someone who grew up on the left coast?

And the dogs were no Ball Park Franks or even Hebrew National, but a selection from local purveyors Olympic Provisions and Chop. Both types got raves, by the way, though I have to say I really liked the flavor and heft of the Chop dogs. And the sauce is one I'll pull out for a backyard BBQ soon, sided by some potato salad or coleslaw.

Coney Island Hot Dog Sauce

2 Tbsp. olive oil
2 lbs. lean ground beef
3 lg yellow onions, chopped fine
3 lg cloves garlic, minced
1/2 Tbsp. garlic powder
1 1/2 Tbsp. white vinegar
4 Tbsp. ancho chile powder
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. allspice
1/2 tsp. red pepper flakes or hot chile powder
1 Tbsp. cumin
1 Tbsp. salt
1 Tbsp. Worcestershire sauce
2 6-oz. cans tomato paste
4 c. water

Heat a large Dutch oven on medium heat and add oil. When it shimmers, add ground beef and brown. Add onions and garlic and sauté till tender. Add garlic powder, vinegar, chile powders, cinnamon, cumin, salt and allspice and stir until fragrant. Add remaining ingredients and bring to a simmer. Continue simmering for 3 to 4 hours, stirring occasionally to make sure it doesn't stick. Makes about 10 cups of sauce.

Read other Camp Stories in the series: Trout Creek Campground, Shadow Bay at Waldo Lake, LaPine State Park, Indian Crossing Campground, Frog Lake Campground, Patrick's Point State Park, Harris Beach State Park and Moss Creek Campground and last year's trip to Paradise Creek.

Oysters Beware

Life is so full of serendipitous happenings. Some feel so linked that they could be called examples of synchronicity, a philosophical concept, developed by none other than Carl Gustav Jung, that explains the experience of two or more events that "are apparently causally unrelated or unlikely to occur together by chance and that are observed to occur together in a meaningful manner." Jung believed that synchronistic events reveal an underlying pattern, a larger framework; i.e. that stuff doesn't happen only by chance.

Knives on the shelf at Dehillerin.

An example: the other day my friend Linda gave us a gorgeous oyster shucking knife (above) that she brought back from a trip to Paris. She'd been visiting her daughter, who was in school in that magical city, and had a few hours on her own to explore the city. A consummate chef, she went to the legendary kitchen supply store Dehillerin. Browsing the shelves of this store that hasn't changed its layout much since it opened in 1820, with high wooden walls and crowded layout, she ran across this knife that, as she explained it, only requires the shucker to point it at an oyster and the creature will pop open its shell in submission.

The high tech "retail display" at Dehillerin.

Then, and that's when my story gets interesting, the next day my brother texted me to get online immediately and make reservations to spend a few days in July at Paradise Creek campground. So, you're asking yourself, what does a camping trip have to do with a French shucking knife? Well, my friends, if you recall, our trip there last year involved no less decadent a treat than 14 dozen fresh oysters.

See what I mean? Synchronicity at its finest. We'll be there, shucker in hand.

Photos of Dehillerin by Linda Colwell.

Camp Stories: Paradise Creek Campground

Can you really say you're roughing it when you have fourteen dozen raw oysters in a coffin-sized cooler? Not to mention martini glasses, cocktail fixin's for just about any drink in a home bartender's guide, anchovy-stuffed Spanish olives for the aforementioned martinis and enough wine to ride out (or would that be float out?) the apocalypse.

Now, I have to say that Dave and I have wowed camp neighbors over the years with margaritas shaken in a handy plastic tub and some mighty fine camp cookin' like the posole we made last year in Dave's brand new Lodge cast iron pot. But the crew we joined over the Fourth of July took it over the top and then some.

Only 167 to go…

My brother (that's him shucking, lower right) and his bride have always headed for the hills over the holiday to get away from the crazies who seem to think the city's streets are their own private bombing range. This year we decided to invite ourselves along and spare Walker and Rosey the panting, pacing, drooling trauma of staying in town.

The plan was to meet up in the no-fireworks-allowed pristine surroundings of the aptly named Paradise Creek campground just north of Carson, Washington, in the Gifford-Pinchot National Forest near Mt. Adams. A small, shady campground, its 42 primitive sites are dotted along the confluence of the Wind River, Paradise Creek and Juice Creek.

Still shucking.

The creekside campsites are the most private and the largest, each capable of handling anywhere from one to three tents, though an additional fee is required for more than one vehicle per site. The best is site 29, but sites 25 and 27 are lovely, too (27 is next to the toilets, though buffered by trees and the creek). The camp hosts keep the pit toilets clean and well-stocked, and they also have firewood available, though after the first night you'll be going back down the road near the fish hatchery where an enterprising family sells dry, chopped wood for a much better price.

Campfire posole.

As for those oysters, our group consisted of five couples, two singles and a toddler, so appetizers on two evenings were taken up shucking and slurping both raw and grilled bivalves, though the toddler preferred consuming a fair amount of native terroir (that is, dirt) with his meals. Those were divvied up between the comings and goings of the various participants, with everything from beans and franks to steak and corn to, yes, our posole. Breakfast was a rotating affair that always started with coffee, then moved on to campfire hashbrowns and eggs or toasted bagels or scrambled eggs with chorizo sausage, then cold cuts, cheeses and salads for lunch.

Some amount of hiking and stream-walking was required to interrupt all that eating, and there are trails aplenty in the area including one hefty climb up Lava Butte from the campground, which ended with a somewhat disappointing non-view at the top.

The best part, though? As the sun went down on the night of July 4, the only crackling and popping came from the campfire, with no hissing from anything other than water flowing over the stones in the creek.

Read other Camp Stories in the series from Trout Creek Campground, Shadow Bay at Waldo Lake, LaPine State Park, Indian Crossing Campground, Frog Lake Campground, Patrick's Point State Park, Harris Beach State Park and Moss Creek Campground.

Camp Stories: Paradise Creek Campground

In the second in our series of great campgrounds around the Northwest is a spot just ninety short minutes from Portland in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest.

My brother swears by this place and is particularly enamored of campsite #29. And since he's as fussy as I am about his campsites, you can take this one to the bank. He guarantees that your tent will be tucked into old growth forest that gives you privacy from other sites, and he says there's terrific river access as well as great hiking on well-marked trails that originate from the campground.

It's 42 sites experience only light use in summer, according to the website, but it's still best to reserve a site online if you know what dates you plan to go.

Read the first review in the series featuring Trout Creek Campground.

Photo of Falls Creek (accessible from the campground) from the Evergreen Mountain Bike Alliance.