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Behold, the power of a burnt out hippie chick

hippie cairns

Saturday, I visited Block Island, a green dab of land an hour’s ferry ride from the coast of Rhode Island. Never been there, but it’s been on my “before you move away” list forever. It was great.

We managed to pack five of us into a rented PT Cruiser. The Cruiser is apparently the rental car of choice on The Block; there were so many of them toodling around, the place looked like a midget undertaker’s convention. We drove the whole perimeter of the island, stopping at various nature trails and beauty spots and historical markers to hike and gawp and take pictures.

There’s something about a group of middle-aged persons on a day trip — a certain feckless, enthusiastic incompetence — that made me want to pin notes to everybody’s shirt and make sure I had phone numbers for all their moms.

Though I don’t know what I’m being so snarky about; I was the only one who came to grief. I snagged a toe in a tree root and did a spectacular flying faceplant-slash-bellyflop in the dust. I didn’t break anything but I bent a few of them pretty hard. At least it was the last hike of the day. How’s come I never make it home in clean pants?

And you’d think somebody would’ve mentioned I was getting sunburnt. All my upturned surfaces toasted a nice Coca-Cola logo red (which is, for those of you interested in graphic design, Pantone 485, the only true red in the Pantone Color Matching System). Today, my face is tighter than a gnat’s and redder than a baboon’s respective bottoms.

Anyhow, just before we quit for liquorses and scallopses at the ferry landing, we spotted this gigantic expanse of cairns by the side of the road. It seems unlikely that they were all stacked by that one hippie chick (they extend way down the beach in both directions), but she looked capable. She stacked rocks and took not the slightest notice of anyone.

And so ended a wonderful day in weirdness.

more hippie cairns


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: September 10, 2007, 8:59 am

Nothing pleases me more than the sight of neatly and tidily stacked rocks. Nature – left to itself – is so disorganized. We should be thankful to the hippy for neatening things up.

Comment from Gnus
Time: September 10, 2007, 9:07 am

Get well soon, yer stoatliness. We minions appreciate your sacrifices in the pursuit of grist for the blog mill.

Hippies and neatness. Who knew?

Comment from Gibby Haynes
Time: September 10, 2007, 9:20 am

The unfortunate fruits of a broken mind. Shame really, there are some really sexy hippy harbodies out there who’ll be permanently off the market to people like me.
Kudos for finding the energy not to systematically kick the cairns over.

Comment from mesablue
Time: September 10, 2007, 11:52 am

Stacking the rocks that others won’t.

Comment from Gibby Haynes
Time: September 10, 2007, 11:53 am

And you thought that stalagmites were the result of thousands of years of geological action…

Comment from Enas Yorl
Time: September 10, 2007, 12:07 pm

Maybe she watched too many episodes of Monk in a row.

Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: September 10, 2007, 12:15 pm

Is that the seaward side of the island? If so, she’ll have a lot of work to redo after the next storm.

Weas’ – Who was it who said ” My only regret is that I have but one face-plant to give for my blog!”.

And let’s not forget the immortal words of JFK: “Ask not what your blog can do for your face-plant; ask what your face-plant can do for your blog.”

And – of course: “I came. I tripped. I face-planted.”

Words to live by. And they are really cool photos, Weasel!

Comment from S. Weasel
Time: September 10, 2007, 12:27 pm

I had some nice landscapes and lighthouse pictures, but they don’t really work in black and white. The sea was a deep indigo shading to turquoise — not something you see a lot of in the Atlantic.

Similar to my knees and elbows today — the bruises finally came out.

Changing the subject, walking in to work this morning watching my feet go up the stairs, I suddenly realized I was wearing sneakers from two entirely different pairs. See, the problem is, they start to look too funky for work long before they actually wear out, so I can’t bear to toss them. Still, both are Nikes and both are white, so I’m going to call them an honorary pair.

Comment from Nike
Time: September 10, 2007, 1:35 pm

Your little white Nikes are non-fraternal twins, eh? Well, it is true that I liked to run around a little wild in my youth….. but hey Girls just wanna have fun

But now, don’t go comparing ME to this chick in your photo who’s gone stone-crazy-wild…. I don’t want to sound catty, but frankly, she looks like a water-nympyho who’s caught Sisyphus if you know what I mean.

All Greek to you? Oh never mind. You’re not mything anything.

Comment from Lokki
Time: September 10, 2007, 1:49 pm

Dedicated to the girl on the beach:

(By Tom Waites)

The ocean doesn’t want me today
But I’ll be back tomorrow to play
And the strangles will take me
Down deep in their brine
The mischievous braingels
Down into the endless blue wine
I’ll open my head and let out
All of my time
I’d love to go drowning
And to stay and to stay
But the ocean doesn’t want me today
I’ll go in up to here
It can’t possibly hurt
All they will find is my beer
And my shirt
A rip tide is raging
And the life guard is away
But the ocean doesn’t want me today
The ocean doesn’t want me today

Comment from Dawn
Time: September 10, 2007, 2:47 pm

Oddly nostalgic. Lokki that poem is beautiful.

Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: September 10, 2007, 5:25 pm

When I think Atlantic, I think gun-metal grey. I don’t know why.

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