Thursday, August 11, 2011

Spectacular Sequel

Did I mention there were three bottles of wine on that beach? Yes. Three.

Admittedly we were a bit slow out the gates the next morning but my inner Rally Monkey prevailed, applied some peer pressure on Mr. Musky and we motivated ourselves back to Bayfield. Again with the flowers, their brilliant colors stealing the show from the charming little shops they adorned.

We rode the Ferry over to Madeline Island, the largest of the Apostle Islands surrounding the northeast edge of the Bayfield Peninsula. After righting our bellies from the previous day's debaucheries with some delicious fish tacos, we explored the island and all that its 246 permanent residents have to offer.

A menacing thunderstorm threatened, so we ducked to safety at the local Historical Museum and learned a bit more about the island. And checked out the precursors to modern plumbing and island dwellings. I'm grateful I live in 2011. On the mainland.

Our Bed and Breakfast housemates explored this locale the day before and encouraged us to sip a beverage at Tom's Burned Down Cafe. Their advice? Go in, order a drink and sit. Then observe. Look everywhere and take it all in.
Their suggestion proved sage, as we were equally entertained by the open-air, junkyard saloon and its quirky patrons - one of whom sauntered in with a mangy cur and a ciggy burning, bought herself and the bartender a shot of Rumplemintz, then ambled out. Curious.
Tom's not-so-subtle life musings had me rubbernecking. And either cracked me up or left me pensive.
As we exited via the back "door" we were amused to find that a couple of vehicles served as the base for the floorboards we were just sitting on.
Is this place up to code?
We enjoyed the different perspective the island's views offered, and apparently so do the ducks. Mama needed to rest a leg, and I needed to rest two!
After a much needed nap at our temporary home base followed by an enjoyable afternoon reading and contemplating the sunshine dance diamonds over the lake, we headed out to one of the finer dining establishments the area has to offer. Midway through an outstanding dinner, I excused myself for a trip to the ladies' room. And promptly squealed and almost micturated simultaneously. I've been in plenty of washrooms with attendants before, but these snarky dames truly threw me for a loop.
Just another example of bizarre Northern Wisconsin humor. We've seen our share over the past six years, but that summarization will have to wait for another post.

Willing this whimsical vacation to persist, we ventured into a local fish house to purchase a piece of fresh lake trout to grill upon our return to our cabin. Paired with some locally fresh new potatoes and asparagus, we reviled in yet another fantastic dinner, acknowledging our blessings in life - how awesome is it to "return home" to our sanctuary on Echo Lake?  
Still feeling melancholy about the conclusion of the weekend, we kayaked in the morning before hitting the road to home home. Our friendly neighborhood loon posed for some pictures before we re-entered the atmosphere of reality.
I'd rather go back to fantasy land. Where the weekend's answer to the meaning of life, or at least this one question, can be summed up with...
...pure, unadulterated satisfaction.


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