The Alabama Gulf Shores are an odd amalgamation of wetlands, sandy beaches, forested areas.  In the more well-known beach of Orange people have made it quite ugly, spearing right down the middle of the thin peninsula with a wide, virtually uncrossable highway.  On one side are canyons made of hotels and condos, barricaded against intruders by high fences, punctuated infrequently by a public access pathway to the beach.  Driving down the highway a person cannot even see the beach or dunes.  On the other side a sad compendium of stores and shopping centers which are meant to be driven to. There is little humanized about the area.  It is not meant to be walked.  We found few restaurants which suggests that the condos and hotels have their own.  There is a small public access beach with a nice wide boardwalk which extends a few blocks before being blocked by the hotel barriers.  We are not fond of these kind of beachfronts and rarely go to them. We were glad to see that this disappear quickly as we drove towards Fort Morgan.  The landscape along this drive changes rapidly from beach and dunes to wetlands to forests, to wetlands again and more dunes.  There are several state parks along this road where you can go hiking and birdwatching.  The end of the road is a more residential area, with a few resorts and hotels sprinkled along the road.  It gets more and more rural the further you drive.  It’s quite lovely and begins to feel remote pretty fast.  

We had rented a condo on Fort Morgan Beach.   We thought the remoteness would be a nice quiet respite.  Instead we felt isolated and weird.  It took awhile before I realized why I felt odd.  There are some places that human beings just should not be building on and this far out on this peninsula was one of these.   

Our first clue were the swamp rats, sorry, mice.  Mary was looking out over the balcony of our condo when she said, “Susan, there is a rat by the pool!”  I looked and saw it.  There were people in the pool, but they didn’t bat an eye.  In fact one woman began making noises and trying to get it to come over.  Of course we are beside ourselves and call the management company. Of course they never call back.  While looking in the book for a number of someone at the condo I see a notice.  You can’t rent out here if you have a cat because this is the habitat for the endangered species of mice called swamp mice.  They have the fat round bodies of a baby bunnies, but the long tail of a rat.  We find them all over the place.  Their presence explains the next puzzle.  

On this area of land, between the beach and the road, there are stilted houses spread out in a very undignified manner.  One here, another there. It seemed rather random. There are prettily painted in various bright pastels which made the landscape look like an unplanned garden.  In between and all around are patches of meadowy, swamp.  I can’t say for sure, but I’m betting that the swamp is the home of the mouse and the mice are endangered because people keep building houses on unstable dune/sand and draining the swamps.  And that’s why it looked and felt so odd.  People probably should have left this last thin spit of land, close to the end of the peninsula open and wild.  It was just odd being there. 

Unfortunately for us, the weather turned dramatic when we arrived.  The wind whipped the waves and on our last day became so unruly that the two men who rented tents and chairs out on the beach were digging up the tents (they were permanently there all the time, day and night). They were only on the third tent when they started panicking.  I could see them discussing which to leave behind and which to save.  They raced for the chairs and kayaks, dragging them to safety behind the dunes.  Then they came back for the tents. In the meantime my legs are getting sand-burned from the wind whipping up the sand and throwing it across the beach at high velocity.  It began to pour shortly after I retreated.  I felt sorry for the guys on the beach still trying to dig up the tents and save them.  That storm was wild and wooly.  The building shook.  The next morning as we were trying to leave, the electricity in the building kept going on and off.  We agreed we would not get in the elevator together in case one of us got stuck, and then, stupid us, we did it anyway and wouldn’t you know, the elevator STOPPED.  Thankfully it started up again right away, but after that it was only one person to an elevator ride.  We got a late start getting out of windy Dodge that morning.