After a slightly sloppy, waterlogged second visit to the Hampton Classic, Liz D. and I drove to the end of Long Island—some 30 miles from Southampton—to Montauk, where the outer tip is surrounded within eye view by water on both sides. The only comparison I can conjure in America to such organic beauty is the West Coast's Pacific Coast Highway.
Rolling Stones: "Hannah honey was a peachy kind of girl/Her eyes were hazel and her nose were slightly curved/We spent a lonely night at the Memory Motel/It's on the ocean, I guess you know it well..." Yup, this is the place.
To the famous Gurney's End for a walk-through. Dramatic full-service inn since nearly the beginning of the 1900s.
Gurney's Big "G" along the bank.
Room rates starting at $200... oh, sorry, that's during the off-season. Don't bother to ask during the season, which is sold out through September anyway.
God, I know there's a really clever caption here about Venus and the Lady Liz... um, uh, hmm.
And now, we reach the very tip, where the ocean waves crash in a diagonal pattern, since the Atlantic is reaching a geological tip.
Demonstrated here.
The Lighthouse, built in 1796 by George Washington. As a Virginian, I thought the first prez dedicated himself to his home state and all... but apparently he paraded as a Yankee a good bit of the time.
View two.
Closer view: Please deposit 25 cents, cool cats.
My god, how lovely to see your mammer cycling by! Love her ponytail!
Catch it, weigh it, picture it... and then what? Eat fish? Ewww.
Liz and I had an ideal, relaxed, indulgent (ultra rare for us) seafood dinner right around the corner, at Gurney's Inn.
Rolling Stones: "Hannah honey was a peachy kind of girl/Her eyes were hazel and her nose were slightly curved/We spent a lonely night at the Memory Motel/It's on the ocean, I guess you know it well..." Yup, this is the place.
To the famous Gurney's End for a walk-through. Dramatic full-service inn since nearly the beginning of the 1900s.
Gurney's Big "G" along the bank.
Room rates starting at $200... oh, sorry, that's during the off-season. Don't bother to ask during the season, which is sold out through September anyway.
God, I know there's a really clever caption here about Venus and the Lady Liz... um, uh, hmm.
And now, we reach the very tip, where the ocean waves crash in a diagonal pattern, since the Atlantic is reaching a geological tip.
Demonstrated here.
The Lighthouse, built in 1796 by George Washington. As a Virginian, I thought the first prez dedicated himself to his home state and all... but apparently he paraded as a Yankee a good bit of the time.
View two.
Closer view: Please deposit 25 cents, cool cats.
My god, how lovely to see your mammer cycling by! Love her ponytail!
Catch it, weigh it, picture it... and then what? Eat fish? Ewww.
Liz and I had an ideal, relaxed, indulgent (ultra rare for us) seafood dinner right around the corner, at Gurney's Inn.
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