High Noon at the EZ-GO Corral

The first EZ-GO golf cart wheeled in at ten o’clock. It was a dark-blue four-seater―two facing forward and two facing backward. This rig carried a man and a woman, both in their sixties, and they’d loaded the back seats with beach chairs, towels, overflowing tote bags, and a cooler. They wheeled around the wooden railing separating the gravel road from the halfmoon beach area, the cart’s tiny gas motor putt-putting like the Little Engine Who Could as it ambled past, seeking the perfect spot to park for a day of fun in the sun.

I watched them from my solitary beach chair in the shade of the only available patch of woods, having staked out my spot early that morning. I’d awoken before the others in our camper and walked here right after the sun had cleared the tops of the abundant pine trees at the 150-acre campground. There’d been a chill in the dawn air, though that’d changed quickly. I had already ditched my hoodie, and though I’d figured on having the waterfront to myself for a while, this place was too alluring to allow my solitary existence to last long.  

As soon as the couple parked and unloaded their gear onto the well-maintained beach sand, the cavalry arrived, in the form of a slow and steady convoy of knobby-tired carts, as if they’d all come from a secret meeting and decided to converge upon this tiny corner of the property at the same time. A rainbow of colors paraded by: purple, pink, orange, even a yellow and black one painted up like Bumblebee from the Transformers movies. There were black carts, red ones, and pickle-green. My people arrived amongst them, riding in a teal-colored beauty affectionately dubbed the Teal Bitch. The personalization of these four-wheeled buggies made me chuckle. There were even a couple stretch limo varieties, capable of carrying six or eight people. They all parked next to each other in a wide arc, like so many horses from the Old West, tied up to hitching posts.

It was like watching a slice of suburbia unfold before my eyes, just a typical Saturday morning, where the good people of the world loaded up their pickups and SUVs to head out for a full day of activities, except these mini four-wheeled marvels took the place of all those larger cousins. I saw kayaks strapped to roofs or being towed behind on tiny rubber-wheeled dollies. More coolers and chairs were unloaded, but also fishing gear, paddle boards, and even a few grandkids.

Each golf cart brought everything but golfers and their gear, and I wondered who’d come up with the genius idea of marketing these vehicles to campgrounds. It had to rank as one of the best sales ideas of all times. These carts were not only essential for navigating the maze of narrow dirt roads, but seemed an expected part of the scene. Folks were proud to tool around in their colorful rigs. I’d seen them cruising slowly past our site after dinnertime the night before, their beverages lodged within cupholders. Some stopped to chat about everything from how our family was doing, to the variety of sites, previous owners, where things were located, favorite BBQ recipes, and suggestions for everything from proper fire building to the best deck sealer.

I’m not a social butterfly, and have always envied those folks who could start up a meaningful conversation about more than just the weather or latest sports score with anyone, at any time. On this day, I saw that quality on full display. Friends, family, and strangers alike shouted greetings to each other, with genuine smiles stretching their cheeks. These folks came from all walks of life and, given the 300 RV sites spread throughout the woods, were here for a weekend, a week, or maybe the entire summer. One thing they had in common was traveling here to enjoy New Hampshire’s abundant woods and waterways and escape their everyday life stresses. Yet I witnessed more than that. Sure, they wanted a break from their lives, but they also yearned for that sense of community, and that’s where the strength of places like this truly lies: People taking time to reconnect, relax, and refuel

There was a common need to let loose and live for today. This was a more mature crowd, who’d seen their share of life, yet were far from done living it. Laughter and lively conversation took center stage as everyone basked in the abundant sunshine. Some lay back in their low beach chairs, their eyes closed behind mirrored sunglasses, making me wonder what they were thinking about. Perhaps they relived the memories of their younger days, or pretended to relax on their own private beach on a tropical island, far away from life’s problems. Maybe they were letting the sun’s rays burn their cares away. Later, around a roaring campfire, the sting on their skin would be a pleasant reminder of a day well-spent.

As for me, I enjoyed the shade and being in close proximity to all this positive energy. Getting to spend time with my people was a long overdue treat, and when we gathered around our own campfire that night, I gripped an adult beverage, raised it up in a toast to their health, and smiled at the memories we’d made. On Monday, the real world would barge in once more, but for now, right here, we were free and soaking in the moment.

Cheers to August sunshine, cool nights, family, friends, and recharging our batteries. Hmmm…maybe there’s a deeper meaning to the name EZ-GO I hadn’t considered before…genius.

Thanks for taking time from your own summer activities to catch up with me, folks. I’d love to read about your own adventures, so don’t be shy. Share away!

-Dave