Birthdays on the Road: You Win Some, You Lose Some

Tomorrow is my birthday (the weird 56, not old yet!). I’ll be spending it at doctors’ appointments near Houston, because it’s that time of year again for us. We try to shove as many annual checkups as possible into one week and then move on.

That’s why three of my four birthdays on the road have been spent in the same area of the country. Look at 2021 in yellow though. I can’t remember what the heck we did for appointments after Death Valley. That was early on, before we had established travel routines, so we might have said, Heck with it. Those days on the road were all about exploration, pure and simple. Then life garbage caught up with us. We’re gonna get back to it, though. Stay tuned for an update on our 2025 travel plans.

Back to my point. Because nothing special’s going on for me this birthday, I thought I’d enjoy looking at my pictures from November 1 since we hit the road. I may have blogged about this already, but, if I can’t remember it then you probably don’t remember it, so the topic is free game!

Tate’s Hell

Our first year (when we were on our way to establish residency in Texas), we stayed at Tate’s Hell State Forest in the panhandle of Florida. Life was weird pre-Covid vaccinations, but especially so camping in this vast bunch of nowhere. So many snakes. The camphost who caught fish for her dogs each day, the prisoners working on the forest road the whole time we were there. On Halloween night, the only family in the campground walked around the like 10-camping spots, leaving candy on people’s bumpers at a safe distance instead of taking it.

To make the next day special, we spent it in tiny Carabelle and found not just a bar on the beach, but a bar with good beer and a local bunch of guys playing music on the deck. I think it was the first time we’d had beer poured for us since we hit the road. GLORIOUS.

Death Valley

This was one of the few times we camped right in a national park, and so worth it.

I shot this sunrise Banjo from our morning walk in the campground. Not that we spent much time there; sleeping inside the park let us get out to the great hikes before other people and before the heat.

On my birthday night we splurged by going to one of the tourist lodges for dinner, a super-rare treat for me. Look, I’m clean! I’m wearing jewelry! I’m happy.

Lake Chicot, Arkansas

Oh man, the next birthday was mysteriously hard for me. I woke up sad that, here I was, celebrating another year of living, when so many of my relatives were not. I felt especially blue for Katherine, who died young and suffered so much. I had to snap myself out of it.

Nothing like kayaking amid cypress to do that. Connecting with nature, being reminded of what does last. That was the first time I had a near-spiritual experience with a flock of American white pelicans.

We topped off the night with a game of Firefly in the trailer (it must’ve been raining outside). Whew, day over, and mood saved.

Travel Day on the Natchez Trace

Egads, the next birthday was a travel day, so nothing special there.

We left historical Muscle Shoals, Alabama, and hit the Natchez Trace Parkway for what became a beautiful and moving few days exploring the Trace, a trail used for so long by animals and people that it’s a worn groove in the earth.

I’ll just think of the Trace when I look back on that birthday.

And then there’s this birthday, at doctors’ appointments all day.

But still, when I start looking at photos, my appreciation for the beauty we’ve been lucky to experience makes me grateful for even the tricky days. Happy birthday to my nomad self.