One of the best parts of living nomadically is enjoying the privilege of community-hopping around the country. Some places grab hold of you more than others, and for us, the Fountain of Youth (aka FOY) is one of them. Winters here are special. There’s really nowhere else like it as far as RV resorts go.
FOY is more than a community, it’s a way of life.
We’re training for our first 50k trail race on March 14, and the miles of zig-zaggy trails that volunteers have built and maintained over the years are getting us in shape for the big day. People work hard here to maintain the things that make it fun.
The facilities are first-class, but it’s the spirit of the Fountain of Youth that brings us back. How can you not want to be around these kinds of super seniors?
A thousand retired snowbirds fill their FOY days with activities galore. It makes Jim and I jealous, watching them play while we toil away earning a living! For once, being the one of the youngest in a group is not all it’s cracked up to be.
FOY never has a dull moment, and everyone looks forward to zany events like the annual parade. It’s a spirit that’s seldom seen outside of small town America, and even in those places it’s fading away. But not here.
This is a place that retirement dreams are made of!
Canadians and Americans come together to make the most of the season. They host so many events and activities, you can’t possibly do all of them even if you are retired. Jim and I only have time to watch. Work takes precedence, at least for now.
And then there’s our prankster neighbors who happen to live in their adorable hand-built tiny house. It’s become the main attraction at FOY, with an endless stream of lookie-loos gawking and snapping photos almost every day.
Those two crazy kids surprised us by decorating our rig with cheezy Christmas crap from FOY’s “Free Table.” This is what we came home to a couple of weeks ago!
Even the dogs here are mostly pretty good. FOY is really dog friendly, and Nellie has made a few new friends this season. Hanging out with sled dogs last winter in Alaska brought out the best in her, and today she’s a great playmate to many of the park’s bigger dogs.
Speaking of winter, I’m feeling a huge pang of FOMO at FOY right now.
Sure, we love it here, and I’m glad we are back near my family in L.A. But the Iditarod is underway, and despite the scary lack of snow in Alaska this year, all that race buzz is stirring up a yearning to get back up north.
Watching our crazy musher friend riding Michelle Phillip’s tag sled at the Ceremonial Start in Anchorage last weekend just made me want to transport myself right back to Willow, and never leave again. I miss the dogs. I miss the quirky people and our awesome neighbors. I miss the snow. I miss the vast, immense, awefull beauty of the north.
With so much insane shit happening in the US right now, retreating to the north country feels like the only sane thing to do at this point.
Every day I ponder ways that we can get back up for good. Not sure how we’ll do it next time, but I guarantee that we will.
For now I’m trying to stay present, and remember to enjoy every day despite the FOMO at FOY that sometimes hits me like a sack of concrete.
It’s funny to think that I once thought Alaskans were the crazy ones. After living up there, I understand that the real lunatics are the people who choose to live in the bumper-to-bumper madness called the Lower 48.