Who says zoos are only for kids?

 Eleven residents and three staff members boarded the bus at 9:00 Monday morning. As we pulled out the drive-way, the conversation centered on different responses to the question, “When was the last time you went to the zoo?” We all remembered taking our kids and later the grandkids and enjoying their excitement. But since then? The average answer was around 30 years.

Yet here we were, residents of our retirement community, excited to be off to the Oregon Zoo. This was part of our community’s efforts to keep its residents active and learning for as long as possible, hopefully right up to the “end.” I came supplied with my walking sticks and by the end of our visit was glad I had them.

As we descended from the bus and entered the front gates, we discovered that this was Kids’ Day, the day schools and clubs brought boys and girls to see the animals. There were lots of kids all around us, jumping, running, shouting, totally hyper. Everywhere. We all enjoy kid-watching, but another day might have been a better choice. Never mind! It was good to be surrounded by youth.

I noticed a difference in the make-up of the zoo. I remembered rows of cages with pacing animals, something that had always bothered me, even though the exotic animals fascinated. But no more. We walked into a beautiful Northwest forest, with a sign indicating which animals we might find if we looked hard enough. It might have been because of all the noisy kids, but the animals seemed to have gone into an unseasonable hibernation. At any rate, the trail was lovely. I told Hal the hike alone made the trip worthwhile.

Finally we spied a huge black bear. Curled up and sound asleep. Apparently well fed. Around the corner a mountain goat nibbled grass along a small cliff. Thrill.

As we meandered through the different habitats, we saw a few animals: the back end of a polar bear slipping into the water, a lethargic but impressive rhino, a tiger barely visible asleep under the bamboo trees, two leaf-nibbling giraffes, and some caged animals—monkeys, bald-eagles, and condors standing on branches and looking bored. I thought of the free soaring condors of the Andes and understood their boredom, even though the cage was tall.

Mostly what we saw were—oodles of strange, exotic and infinitely interesting people! Which leads me to think—what about a people zoo, with paths for the animals to wander and gawk at us, if they can find us napping under the trees.

The other thing I noticed was how quickly I grew tired. Thank God for my walking sticks. Walking fast makes me dizzy, and we did have to hustle along at a moderate pace as we were only given two hours for the whole adventure. We took a picnic-lunch break in the middle; that helped.

And now for the miracle! At the beginning, we had all separated into small groups to make our way around the place. Joan joined with Hal and me, and we occasionally met with others on the different trails. But, and I’m not sure how, we all managed to meet back at the front gates at the designated hour. No stragglers or lost people. I was amazed at how responsible we all were (and at our age, that trait can diminish).

Although I probably won’t be going back to the zoo any time soon, I have good memories and a few good photos of sleeping animals.

Which leaves me asking—what next? A short hike on the Pacific Trail? The circus? The planetarium? Or my favorite, the beach. Whichever it is, I’m game.