3 Nights at Detroit Lake

Camping, Fishing and Getting Lost in Imagination

TRAIL

Ashley Rhea

3/24/20265 min read

Three Nights at Detroit Lake: RV Camping with Kids, Fishing, and Getting Lost in Imagination

There’s something about hitching up the trailer, loading three girls into the truck, and pointing it toward the mountains that resets everything. For us, that reset came this last weekend over three nights at Detroit Lake State Recreation Area—a place that somehow manages to feel both wide open and comfortably contained, even with five people sharing a 24-foot camper.

This trip wasn’t about doing everything. It was about doing just enough—and letting the rest unfold.

Detroit Lake: https://stateparks.oregon.gov/index.cfm?do=park.profile&parkId=65

Settling Into Camp Life

The campground itself is big—nearly 300 sites tucked into a forested canyon around a nine-mile-long lake —but once you’re in your loop, it quickly feels like its own little neighborhood. Our girls (3, 7, and 9) immediately made it theirs.

Mornings started slow. Coffee outside. Early Campfire to combat the chilly morning. The kind of quiet where you can hear birds before anything else. The same birds that eventually provided the wake up call to the sleepyheads snoozing in their beds. As one of my daughters said, "We had an alarm clock....it said, 'Caw caw caw', referring to the raven that decided it was time for them to get up.

And then, inevitably, the energy would build.

Shoes on. Someone asking for snacks. The inevitable fight about brushing teeth or putting on clean clothes that comes with parenting, no matter where you are. Deciding if they were going to start the day on their bikes or their hoverboards.

Our girls were recently gifted hoverboards by their Mimi and took to them surprisingly quickly. The perk that we just realized is how compact and simple they are to bring to camp. They had a blast riding them around, and got a lot of looks from neighboring campers as well.

These are the one's we have: https://amzn.to/3Pv3L2V

*Affiliate link, commissions earned

The Rhythm of Kids at Camp

Most of our time wasn’t scheduled—it just happened.

We wandered the forest trails that loop through the campground, the kind that are perfect for kids because they feel like adventures without actually being far from camp. The girls collected sticks, moss, and somehow turned every bend into a “new discovery.”

The oldest taught the 7 year old about different kinds of nature that she's been learning about at school, like moss, lichen and old man's beard.

I heard them share stories with each other, that they hadn't shared with me, about their school days and their friends, as I followed them from behind on the nature trail.

These are the moments that I yearn for, to get a glimpse into their lives from a perspective where I'm no longer 'Mom', instead, It's like I'm now a fly on the wall observing their lives.

The playground became a daily stop—an easy win for burning energy—and the shoreline became their masterpiece.

They spent hours building what they proudly called their villages—tiny communities made of driftwood, rocks, and imagination. There were “houses,” “roads,” and at one point, a “bakery” made entirely out of stacked flat stones.

It’s the kind of play that only seems to happen when there are no screens and no rush.

Dad, the Porta Boat, and the Early Morning That Mattered

Every day, Dad was out on the porta boat.

Early mornings. Calm water. That quiet determination that comes with fishing—not just for the catch, but for the solitude, and the yearn to bring home a fresh catch and watch his girls fill their bellies with something that came from his own efforts.

But one morning stood out more than the rest. Our 7-year-old decided she wanted to go.

It was cold. Frost-on-the-ground cold. The kind where your breath hangs in the air and everything feels a little harder than it should. But she bundled up, climbed in, and pushed through it.

And then—it happened. Her first Kokanee.

Not handed to her. Not luck. Earned. She fought it, reeled it in, and held it with that mix of disbelief and pride that you don’t forget.

A couple hours later, that same fish was cooking over the campfire. And the best part? The two older girls devoured it.

Not because they had to—but because they truly love fresh fish.

Five of Us on One Tiny Boat

One evening, all five of us squeezed onto the porta boat.

It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t roomy. But it was perfect.

The girls laughed every time the boat shifted. Someone was always adjusting their seat. And for a little while, we just drifted—watching the light change on the water, the mountains reflecting back at us. The older girls brought nets and caught small pieces of driftwood for their collections while two reels held line behind us, hopeful for another catch.

No agenda. No phones. Just all of us, together.

We didn't catch anything that evening, but the memories were made regardless.

What Makes Detroit Lake So Good for Families

There’s a reason this place works so well:

Space to roam, but not get lost
Built-in amenities like a playground, trails, and lake access in addition to restroom and shower facilities, and full hook up sites
A mix of activity and downtime—you can fish, boat, swim, or do absolutely nothing
Kid-friendly everything—from shoreline exploring to biking loops

It hits that rare balance where kids can be independent enough without you feeling on edge the whole time.

The Downsides (Because They Matter Too)

No place is perfect—and Detroit Lake has a few things worth knowing before you go.

1. The Freeway Noise
This is the big one.

Highway 22 runs close enough that you’ll hear it—especially at night when everything else quiets down. It’s not constant chaos, but it’s there. If you’re expecting deep, remote silence, this isn’t that.

2. It Can Feel Busy
With hundreds of sites, it’s a popular spot. On weekends and peak season, you’ll notice it. It’s more “community campground” than secluded wilderness.

3. Cold Water Reality
Even on warm days, the lake is fed by snow runoff, which means the water stays cold year-round (). Not a dealbreaker, but something to plan around with kids.