More Washington Island Photos

The beach at the end of the campground did not suck.

I watched the scariest looking sunset ever there. The sun was bigger than I've ever seen it as it set, and more than once I thought about how it looked like it could go into a red giant phase.

Then I thought, if things did end, I'd be in about the best place one could ask for.

This poor crab was somebody's dinner. There were lots of signs of crab carnage, those gulls were hungry, and there were a lot of them.

Monkey lookin' rock.

We detoured off the road on the way back through the hell that is Door County tourist land to a little place called Rowley Bay, hoping to find the bakery they threatend was there.

They lied! But on the way I saw this little cemetary, and this statue. No name or markings to say who was laid to rest there, just a fine chunk of angel on top of the grave. Pretty classy.

We had a pretty good weekend, but I felt sort of odd, like somebody slipped me a low dose of thorazine. A savage torpor, a relentless slothfull feeling grabbed me a lot of the time.

But we got a lot of sun, I got to ride bikes around the Island, and the company was pretty damn cool. Ellyn has some seriously cool folks there to hang with, I can see why she loves two weeks of not much to do.

It drove me a little nuts, though. I'm already a slacker, deeply in touch with my inner Big Lebowski.

It also felt pretty wierd to stay at a resort. I worked at one, my parent's gig at the summer camp for 20 plus years made me more used to being the staff at a joint like the one we stayed at. I felt like I should have been running trail rides on horses or working in the kitchen or painting the cottages.

We at Hint of Dementia will be returning to our unreasonable rants about humanity next. Sorry for the intrusion of good taste and the lack of swear words, it must fucking suck to read such a nice post.