Cheyenne sniffed a while and asked why things didn't pong of rotting seaweed.
People fish in these ponds and apparently they are far more risky than you might think looking at them. Cheyenne took hours to figure out these miles of instructions.
The used monofilament repository got lost en route to the Florida Keys and ended up here, much to my Yellow Labrador's surprise.
This sign pissed her off, on principle, as she doesn't like to swim.
We took off looking for adventure alongside this very dangerous body of inland water.
More very extensive instructions.
Things were busy growing, and some of the stuff looked more like something you might use to accessorize a plate of food.
Cheyenne was wondering where the houses and trash cans were.
Sailors used to sailing salt water dread lake sailing if they have any common sense. The ocean looks intimidating but winds and conditions tend to be more predictable than these nasty bodies of water surrounded by conflicting valleys and peaks.
Cheyenne found a body of water she could sit in and drink if she felt like it. She did like.
The lake is artificial and hides behind a dam that let's the water out when the people of Roanoke need a drink. Funnily enough a sign in the loo told users not to drink the water from the sink as the tap water was from the lake and thus not potable. Hmm. I wonder if the good people of Roanoke know that?
Dogs can't but ducks can? Is that fair?
Pretty, I thought, and serene.
I quite liked the woods too. Utterly unlike mangroves.
That's the point of a vacation, to see other stuff.
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