Wastin' away again

The festivities have begun. My kids
are out of school. People in my office
have scattered to Hawaii, Las Vegas
and Jamaica. Drunken college students are burning
through cases of beer and
boxes of condoms from Cabo to Daytona.Well, I can't go to Hawaii this
year. But I can go to the beach.
Let all those softies* lay in the sun
and kick-start their skin cancer.
I'm doin' spring break right here.

I went back to the coastal flats Saturday
with my friend Lisa. Conditions had shifted
since last weekend. No more
sun to warm us up. The dry,
fluffy drifts had crusted over so hard
that we rode across some of them without even
breaking through. The north wind was blowing off
the bluff pushing the 14-degree temp to at least zero
with the windchill. A little new snow
was falling sideways. A lot of old snow
was swirling across the ground.
We rode among the ice plates, we pedaled
over the glare ice and we churned
through drifts. We froze our faces
until they were numb.

Jimmy Buffett once said
Margaritaville is nowhere
other than your mind
or at the bottom of a Cuervo bottle.

I say the beach is what you make it.
Welcome to Margaritaville.
Drink up.

*a.k.a. Lucky Bastards