Thanksgiving on Petit Jean Mountain, AR
There’s something about Thanksgiving that reminds me to slow down. But slowing down isn’t exactly in my wife’s vocabulary. She’s fit, driven, and always pushing for the next adventure. Her signature phrase? “Want to go for a run?” And while I usually find a way to politely pass, today was different. Today, I said yes—but with a twist. “Let’s make it a hike.”
Petit Jean Mountain in Arkansas has a way of making you glad you showed up. The air was crisp, the kind that wakes you up without needing coffee, but the sun brought warmth, cutting through the coolness in the shadows. We started the hike toward Crystal Falls, a trail that winds through towering trees and rocky paths that demand you pay attention.
The falls were worth every carefully placed step. Water cascaded down in the sunlight.
On our way back, we met a couple who fell in love with the mountain in the fall. They’d been coming here every Thanksgiving week for the past 27 years, camping or rv’ing, braving the elements, and making memories. Their story was timeless, like something out of a magazine—only this was real. I couldn’t help but admire their commitment to tradition, a rare thing.
By the time we made it to the lodge, our foreheads glistened, but not quite uncomfortable. The full Thanksgiving spread waiting inside felt like a well-earned reward. There’s something magical about that old lodge—the wooden beams, the crackling fire, the smell of turkey and pie. We sat down, plates full, and let the moment sink in.
The sun was setting, painting the sky in oranges and purples, and the mountain seemed to sigh with us. Thanksgiving on Petit Jean—there’s no place like it.
Sometimes, you just have to say yes. Even if it’s to a hike. Happy day after Thanksgiving to you.
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