A Marshmallow on Wheels

the marshmallow on wheels

After initially closing its facilities in response to the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department began allowing limited access to its network of State Parks and Natural Areas a few weeks later. In the months that followed, my family visited every park within an hour or two of San Antonio as a way of safely escaping the confines of our home. To explore further would require an overnight stay, but hotels are expensive (not to mention risky in the days before transmission vectors were understood) and my wife maintained a standing, non-negotiable policy against sleeping on the ground.

As the summer of 2020 turned into fall and the pandemic showed no signs of ending, the idea of investing in a camper trailer began to be discussed. Such a vehicle would allow our family to extend the range and ambition of our adventures while still providing all parties with a bed sufficiently elevated off the ground. After months of research, I came to the conclusion that a particular model of fiberglass trailer manufactured in the late 1990s by Casita Enterprises was large enough to accommodate the four of us while still being light enough to be pulled by my wife’s mid-sized SUV. The camper’s interior included a dinette that could be converted into a full-size bed (for the adults) and a sofa that could be converted into a bunk bed (for the kids). I closely monitored a number of online websites and forms so when a used 13’ Casita “Patriot” trailer went on sale in northeast Texas, I was able to pounce before it could be snatched up by anyone else looking for similar relief from the monotony of the pandemic lockdown.

We made our first tentative sojourn out in our new (to us) Casita in late September. The accommodations it provided were tight, but cozy: there was plenty of room for everyone to sleep, but the limited amount of clear floor area meant that we had to get dressed sequentially in the mornings. The lack of a bathroom wasn’t the issue we worried it might be as the campgrounds where we stayed always had facilities nearby. A small “marine toilet” was purchased to handle overnight bladder situations. 

the Casita, sausage, mac, and cheese

A pattern emerged where I’d take one of the girls on shorter daddy/daughter adventures every few weekends while more ambitious adventures would be planned for holidays. For Christmas that year we headed west to Davis Mountains State Park and Big Bend National Park. There was concern about the low overnight temperatures in the high desert, but four bodies stuffed into a tight space produces more than enough of heat. For Spring Break the following year, we hit several state parks as we looped through the Texas Panhandle. For Thanksgiving, we headed west again to Guadalupe Mountains National Park.

the Casita in west Texas

In between these excursions, we’d use the the Casita even when it was wedged between our garage and our neighbor's fence. It proved to be an ideal conference room for Zoom meetings when everyone was still working (and/or learning) form home. We cooked and ate inside of it when our kitchen tile was being replaced. We would disappear into it when we wanted to take a nap or simply needed a moment to ourselves.

We’d still take the trailer out even as everyone started to go back to school and work. Once everyone was vaccinated, we would occasionally meet up with friends, one of whom described the Casita as a “marshmallow on wheels.” But band concerts, cross country meets, and softball games soon made scheduling these trips increasingly difficult. As our eldest daughter descended into her teenage years, she became decidedly less interested in this (or any other) family activity. The Casita never became a popular destination for slumber parties - the lack of a TV apparently was an issue - and so even though we were still using it on occasion, by the summer of 2024 we had crossed some invisible threshold and decided it was time to find it a new family. 

My youngest daughter and I took it out on one last daddy/daughter adventure to Lockhart State Park. We ate one final family dinner in it for old time’s sake. And shortly after posting an ad online, our little Casita was purchased and driven away by a different family so that it might accommodate their adventures.

the Casita being driven away by a different family in search of different adventures

An open secret about campers and other recreational vehicles is that owners rarely use them as often as they think they will. Even a small trailer like ours was stressful to drive and getting it in and out of our backyard was an hour-long ordeal. In looking through photos as I was writing this essay, it struck me that although it seemed like we had the trailer “forever” and used it “all the time,” reality was more circumscribed.

In the four years we owned the Casita, we probably camped in it only a few dozen times. On paper, that doesn’t sound like much, but each of those trips represented a distinct and happy memory made during a time when such things could be incredibly hard to come by. Although the girls will always remember when the schools shut down after their spring break, I’d like to think they’ll also always remember when they were swarmed by a heard of bison after setting up camp at Caprock Canyons State Park during their spring break the following year. Yes, they’ll recall all the time they weren’t able to see their friends, but I hope they will also think fondly of all the time they were able to spend with their family. Like the number of times we used the Casita, our time together is finite as well.

Thinking back to my own childhood, the predictable cycle of school years followed by summer vacations seemed to continue forever… until, of course, that came to an end when I grew up and moved out. Looking back I can see there were, in fact, a finite number of summers. There was a last time I went on a vacation with my brother and my mom and my dad. Looking forward, I know we have only a handful summers left before our eldest daughter (hopefully) leaves home for college. Likewise, we have only a handful of Christmas mornings with our girls before even our youngest will want (and need) to spend that time with the new family she will have created for herself. This is perfectly normal. This is what we want for them.

Although the story of my family’s adventures with our Casita has come to an end, I’m grateful for the time we shared in our little marshmallow on wheels. It fulfilled a specific need at a specific time in our lives. It was a cozy place where, for at least a little while, my family could be warm and happy and safe. For a time, it was a space where we could all be together.