Dan and I have been dwelling in Snowbird Land for the last two weeks. We visited a similar land back when the boys were home. Dan’s great aunt and uncle, plus Dan’s mother, used to rent a very nice condo in Clearwater, Florida.
Great-Uncle Oscar was a stroke victim, and a lasting winter cold could be close to deadly. Consequently, every year they would decamp to Florida from January to March. Dan’s mom would visit for 6 of those weeks, helping Great-Aunt Grace take care of Great-Uncle Oscar.
We’d visit during spring break, have a great time but, in our arrogant youth, would say behind our hands that we were visiting the Land of the Blue Hairs (the dye many women of a certain age used on their hair to brighten up the white).
Now we are they. Our jeers have turned into self-deprecating smiles – I mean, after all, why retire if you can’t escape routine life in some form or fashion?
Mardi Gras driftwood lady. The campground is big on this festival and many Snowbird campsites are decorated. We found this lady on a campground trail.
We decided to camp at Alabama’s Gulf Shores State Park. We’ve been here before, but never for long. There are miles and miles of hiking/biking trails, and among other things for the athletic, something called pickleball.
Envision small jeers here again, leftover aggravation from self-involved high school misconceptions about jock-worship. We wonder if the winners of pickleball are called the Big Pickles.
The campground laundry unexpectedly turns out to be a meeting place. With deep washers and high-up dryers, a lot of laundry is overlooked. They place the laundry on the shelf between washing machines and some of the left-behind articles are embarrassing unmentionables that absolutely did not come from Victoria’s Secret.
As you wait for your laundry to finish, you and everybody else quietly search the shelf, hoping you didn’t leave anything behind that might cause a blush. With decent weather, many here have clothes lines and skip the dryer portion. But recent rain means that we are all using the dryers, and like commercial dryers everywhere, they take much, much longer than you would imagine.
Conversations spring up concerning how could one possibly lose a sock in a camper, or the perils of sub-zero Michigan weather while attempting to transport one’s camper in those conditions. It turns out to be fun. Also, there’s a leave-a-book, take-a-book table – a boon for those of us who read quickly and have run out of books to read.
The other day we met a man on a very technical bike that was loaded down with specially designed bags. He’d biked from St. Augustine, Florida, to Gulf Shores and his goal is to bike to San Diego, California.
We’ve been feeling proud because we’ve been riding our bikes without too many accidents. The other day, as we waited for a Segway tour to pass, Dan and his bike fell. A ranger was passing and stopped to make sure we were okay. He told us they’ve rescued something like 20 bicycle-accident campers – one woman who took a tumble and broke her leg in 3 places.
Snowbirds are generally folks of a significant age, and while we say age is just a number, no matter what number is beside your name, it doesn’t hurt to be reminded of whatever surrounds us.
From one of a significant number, I would tell you do not ignore that old song in your head, “Enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think!”
Cindy Arp, teacher/librarian, retired from Knox County Schools. She and husband Dan live in Heiskell when they are not Snowbirds.