This is the latest in an occasional series of blog posts commenting on upcoming retirement.

Well now …

That was some ending to a totally delightful week on the road.

We awoke this morning at what has turned out to be my favorite RV park, in Gallup, N.M., to find our truck and fifth wheel dusted with snow.

I had to remind myself. Today is the First of May, yes?

We turned on the TV to watch the local news and we learned about high wind warnings all across New Mexico; they would be especially fierce between Grants and Santa Rosa — right in the line of fire, so to speak, of our route home.

Oh, brother. What do we do?

My wife reminded me of some obligations we have on Monday. If we were “fully retired,” she said, “we could pull up short of home, spend the night at an RV park somewhere and cruise on in the next day.”

Can’t do it.

We decided to wait a while before shoving off.

Then we took flight — in a manner of speaking.

Eastward we trudged: Me, Wife and Toby the Puppy — who I should add wasn’t the least bit concerned about a single thing. As long as he has his mother and yours truly, life is good.

We arrived in Gallup the previous day after driving from Casa Grande, Ariz., where the temperature had hit the high 70s. Gallup sits about 6,500 feet above sea level. Thus, it is cooler than the Valley of the Sun under normal circumstances.

There wasn’t a lot of snow to be seen. But as we moved closer to Grants, the scene changed. Not dramatically. But the snow crept closer to Interstate 40. Then we saw a westbound snowplow tossing the snow off the outside lane going in the opposite direction.

The temperature outside? A bracing 33 degrees.

This is May 1? Am I correct.

Onward we went.

Just as we crested the summit going into Albuquerque we started feeling the wind the weather guy was talking about earlier in the morning. I’m not sure it was of the dangerous variety. Besides, we’ve lived in the Texas Panhandle for more than 21 years, so we’re fairly used to the West Texas wind.

We did decide, though, to slow our rig down. Neither of us is daredevil enough to push the speed limit in what could be described as inclement weather.

Everyone else? They roared past us as though we were going backward.

Bully for them.

A six-hour trip home turned into a seven-hour trip home.

We did make a decision, though, from this experience. Once we do declare ourselves to be fully retired, and we no longer have those obligations awaiting us at home, we’ve decided against making RV park reservations too far in advance.

There’s no way to resist the forces of Mother Nature.

Flexibility is the key to this retirement thing. Or so I’ve been told.