So I decided to meet friends at Francis Bay this afternoon. After a late start, and with slightly cloudy skies, I headed up North Shore Road at 1:00. Hawksnest was packed, which should have been my first sign. At the Trunk Bay overlook, five (yes, five) Jeeps were parked and their occupants had walked down to Trunk Bay. Why? Because after the paving was finished at Trunk, they (Park Rangers?) put rocks on the side of the road so visitors can no longer park there when the lot is full. Really, now? Trunk is one of the top ten beaches in the world, but there is very little parking, and now there's even less. Brilliant.
I drove by Cinnamon, which was full-to-overflowing, as was Maho. At Francis, I parked way down at the end of the road, and flip-flopped my way around the mud puddles, splashing mud up the back of my legs. Grrrrr. There were people EVERYWHERE. The people sitting next to us had one level of volume when they spoke, and that was LOUD. Really, I don't want to hear about your wife's rug burn. Like my girlfriend said, "I'll give you rug burn, buddy, if you don't shut the hell up!"
I was there for maybe thirty minutes when the thunder and rain started, and the wind was whipping umbrellas, rafts, and beach toys all over the place. Pretty comical, actually. I shot this picture on the way up King's Hill Road. Once at Bordeaux, it was a gigantic white-out, and the wind was fierce. No photo because my camera is not waterproof. There's no place like home, there's no place like home.
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