How to Navigate a New Environment as a Directionally Challenged Person— RVing in Retirement

After our stay in the Walmart parking lot, (a funny interpretation of an uncomfortable situation) my husband and I stopped our journey just outside Palm Springs, California. We reserved a spot to stay for a week with the intent of spending time with my brother and his wife who resided there during the winter as snowbirds from north Idaho. We didn’t have as much snow in Boise, Idaho, but getting out of the cold was definitely a motivating reason to travel.

It only took a day to establish a routine to start each morning with a walk around Sky Valley Resort which I affectionately call the golf cart community. It is a complex of tiny houses, single-wide trailers, double-wide mobile homes, and recreational vehicles. We fall in the last category.

At home, Dagney, our 5-pound Yorkie, who thinks she is human, accesses a doggy door to freely roam the house and yard. So, when we travel, Dagney and I must venture out for a morning walk so she can do her business. For most people a walk would be a casual stroll providing relaxation. A directionally challenged person strolls but seldom relaxes if they wish to find their way home — such is the case with me. I must carefully analyze my surroundings and mentally document the landscape and memorable landmarks so I can find my way home. To be honest, even that proves unsuccessful because I have called my husband for assistance to find my way back.

Walking through this resort provides multiple markers that allow me to create a mental map. The homes and spaces are small since the goal is to either retire or vacation with few responsibilities; thus, one plot runs into another with few noticeable distinctions — except for the personal touches. I’ve decided that a lot of other people get lost easily or it is human nature to add personal touches to their environment, a way of laying claim or adding their personality to the property.

As I walk, a map takes shape as a reference to return in time for breakfast.

Once I walk through the shortcut that connects the RV section to the permanent dwellings, the unique decors begin to appear. Concrete statues of a variety of animals: racoons, turtles, a coyote, a donkey, and birds of every size line the streets. Every once in a while, the mammals are adorned in clothes, a hat or painted; my favorite is a sunbathing ceramic frog wearing a painted pink bikini that lounges on the back of a golf cart. I know I am going the right direction when I spot the two dancing giraffes on the light blue wall.

To my pleasure I discover, wood artwork is popular, so I add to my map the over-sized watermelon slice, geese, and welcome signs as I pass each one. It almost seems like certain areas are themed because then a series of plots are adorned with metal stakes; some hold reflectors to protect the animals at night, others introduce the name of the family, frequently butterflies and hummingbirds flutter around but my favorite is the metal rod with the bicycle handlebars on top, reminding me of a stingray bike I owned as a kid complete with pompoms hanging on the ends.

After I’ve counted the three water features: a birdbath, a fountain with two terra cotta fish kissing, and a young boy and girl climbing a limb, I acknowledge it is about time to turn around. However, it is the pink flamingos to provide the signal that I must head back.

I love the colors and character of the yards I pass during each outing. Sometimes I veer off slightly and that is when I found the metal stakes topped with corn-on-the-cob. Only fitting when I noticed the car in the driveway had Iowa license plates. Humans seem to always remain true to our roots. I am thinking about getting a large potato to place on display at each stop to announce we are from Idaho.

Finally, I would be remiss in not mentioning the golf carts sprinkled along the streets

Each one increases my affection for the ornamentation and provides the reason for the name, golf cart community. Seldom does a full-size vehicle appear on the streets as there is no need. People ride around in carts of every color and shape: orange, green, blue, white, black, the list is endless. Some have tops while others are convertibles. All that I’ve seen are showing their age, but they are well loved.

My sister-in-law personalized hers After seeing her creation, I know she will fit right into this community.

I imagine Sky Valley is just one of many resorts that serve as home to the thousands of snowbirds who migrate south for the winter. And after staying here for a week, I understand the allure. If nothing else, it is colorful and a great place for a morning walk.

If you enjoyed this and want to read more of our adventures as well as tips and tricks to traveling in an RV, visit RVing in Retirement