I spent last week in Arizona, near the Mexican border. The weather was surprisingly cold most of the visit, but my son, grandson and I spent one day at Patagonia State Park, which happened to be full of cows. They were plopping large cowpies all over the paths around the lake. We had many near misses, shoe-wise, especially with my three-year old grandson. Oddly, many snow birds were camping there, sitting outside their hard-sided campers, no doubt dodging cowshit during the cold, dark mornings. I used to think that I'd like to do that whole camper routine, roaming around carefree in the winter months, but after seeing those folks sitting in their red canvas chairs with the beverage container, I changed my mind. I think all they must do is read, or fight, or dread getting back on the highway in one of those beasts, only to face the next site where you have to get the plumbing lined up. Probably good for retired truckers or pilots, people who are used to parking beasts.
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