Snow Birds

I have a new appreciation for people who turn into snow birds when the weather turns cold. Until now, I thought all they had to do was shut up their house (if they had one) and drive south and enjoy the weather. I hadn’t realized all the logistical challenges that go with it.

For example, there’s the mail. The post office will hold it for only a month so if they’re going home periodically (as we are) travel has to be timed what the PO is willing to do. Otherwise, the mail has to be forwarded, with uncertainty built into the system or else some relative or friend must be delegated to retrieve and forward it.

Then there’s the banking. To take money out of home accounts entails using ATMs, which in turn incur charges from both banks. It can cost around $5 for a single transaction when both banks whet their whistle. I’ve got around this by opening an account with a local bank and writing checks (we do remember those, right?) on my home account. Still, it took thought and some scheming.

Then there’s the medical stuff. Prescriptions have to be transferred to the new location and then transferred back. Doctors and dentists have to be located or else one has to fly home for treatment. Everything otherwise has to be scheduled during the times one is home. It’s surprising how difficult it sometimes is to get an appointment with a regular practice. Unless prior arrangements have been made, standing in pain in a receptionist’s office doesn’t seem to cut the mustard.

Then there’s the internet. Many people pay for satellite service—these are the pros as it turns out. The RV parks provide some basic service, but it quickly gets clogged up by people who insisting on connecting to the towers, remaining on all day, and downloading movies. The alternative is connecting to the cable service (along with the TV) and buying a router, which is its own set of dark challenges to the uninitiated. The providers provide the service far faster than they provide the support. The free advice from Best Buy is just that—free, and unless you have the standard system they can only guess what you need.

Finally, there are the mysteries of the highways and road system, including the drivers. Arizona drivers seem to like blocking lanes and providing a laconic wave around the car rather than moving. It seems to be a state-wide thing as we encountered these blockages in various towns on the way down to Phoenix. Denver drivers would be leaning on the horn and throwing various digits. Down there, drivers just edge their way around the stopped vehicle. We also have learned to expect the unexpected. In Globe, Arizona, a police helicopter landed in the middle of the road with much waving of arms and parking of police cars to create a landing spot; nevertheless, it was quite diverting.

I think the biggest learning curve for us first-timers, though, has been the differences between the states. Arizona is not New Mexico and neither is Colorado. New Mexico drivers are very dexterous at changing lanes very rapidly and in very tight spaces. One can only drive straight there and let the cars weave their dance, hoping that one of them won’t hit you. Let a snowfall happen and they wind up in the median on their roofs. Colorado drivers are used to mountain driving and icy conditions. They gear down a lot and buy snow tires so they don’t hit the median (a pleasure left primarily to the California drivers trying to make a winter drive to the East Coast). You can always tell a novice driver in Colorado: they’re the ones using their brakes down the hills and ending up with smoke billowing from their wheels. I suppose somewhere someone is saying “Those Colorado drivers, those novices don’t know how to drive.”

Despite everything, it’s been an interesting experience and we’ve even participated in some of the RV resort’s activities—pretty good for a pair of non-joiners. Next year, though, we hope not to be novice snowbirds anymore.