Confessions of a Beach Bum

March 5, 2006

My mom played golf the other day with her new friend, who hails from the Jersey Shore (who knew there were so many of us). They were talking about the beach and mom’s friend commented, “we need a boardwalk”. I am not sure if her comment was in jest or a longing for the familiar, but I had to laugh at her statement.

You see, if you have been to the beach in New Jersey you know that every beach is lined with a boardwalk. Some boardwalks are just walking and biking space. Others are crammed with games, boutiques, bars, food, amusements and rides.

The NJ boardwalk is a social scene in the summer (for the folks from Nawth Joisey), a respite for locals in the winter, and the stage for many a Springsteen video or Sopranos clip. But, as I sat on a Hilton Head beach just a few days ago, with the Lowcountry spring finally upon us, I did not miss it at all.

The beach in the early spring is one of the most relaxing spots in the Lowcountry. So, when my boss told me to take a day off, I took him up on the offer. I headed out at about 10:00 a.m., made a pit stop for sunscreen …

Wait! I have to stop here and tell a funny side story. Last year, I moved to South Carolina on April 6. On April 10, I sat on the beach for hours soaking in the Hilton Head sun, in an attempt to achieve my first “tan” of the year (much earlier that I was used to). On April 11, I started my new job – bright as a Jersey tomato. I was burned to a crisp and easily stood out as the new chick, obviously from the North, and obviously unaware of the strength of the Lowcountry’s April sun.

… made a pit stop for sunscreen, Sun Chips (a Courtney beach staple) and a good book. When I made the left off of 278 onto Folly Field Road, I was surprised to find that I was not the only one escaping the office for the day. The first parking lot was full!

So, I parked the car, grabbed my beach chair and other gear and headed to pay for my parking. And, even though I have been doing this for almost a year now I, of course, forgot my space number so I backtracked, determined I was in space #20, dropped in my quarters and I was ready to roll.

Sinking my toes in the sand for the first time in months was just heaven. And I wasn’t alone. I shared this small slice of heaven with parents and young children – some who appeared to be teetering on legs that had just started to walk; dogs enjoying the freedom that only a good game of fetch on the beach can offer; retired couples walking hand in hand seemingly satisfied with what life has provided; and a few folks just like me – escaping from the office, if only for a day.

The smell of the ocean, the texture of the sand, the trademark seagulls, and the dolphins in the distance - these are the things that vacation is made of. Unless you are one of us, the lucky few who call the Lowcountry home.