PICTURE THIS
--PICTURE THIS
---The beach I am talking about was a City Park. A manmade beach graded and possibly with sand added. There were even lifeguard stands patrolled on weekends and busy days. Out in the Lake is a concrete breakwater creating a smooth pool complete with a marked off area for little kids, then a section for non swimmers. I call it the FAMILY BEACH. Mostly young couples and grandparents with little kids and teens.
---For those not familiar with the Wisconsin side of Lake Michigan, the lake is normally choppy, sometimes with high waves. The lake is filled with what I call assorted potato sized various shaped smooth shiny stones, constantly rolling and changing shapes from eons of churning in the lake. This makes walking in the water and near the shoreline awkward for those with tenderfeet, like Dollie. Many wear tennis shoes. The beach we’d eventually go to was this way. Also, there are sections of shoreline with trees and marshy areas meeting the waters edge. Not really as much free beach as you may think. But even on the Michigan side with a sandy bottom, we only went to walk along the shoreline and sunbath.
---I’m thinking the Family Beach had a sand bottom. We’d stop at the Family beach just to people watch and be watched. Then move on north to what I called the GROWN UP BEACH. Usually it had college aged kids, adults, and old retired people, all scattered in various age groups, sort of like it was planned. Not many kids. People sunbathing, cooking on grills, playing games, and other normal adult beach things. This was where we’d see skimpy swimsuits, sometimes titties exposed from topless sunbathers on their tummys. But rarely topless or nudies in the open. Yet, flashing and fondling sometimes happened toward the more remote areas where shrubs and small trees sheltered from the parking lots and other swimmers. Beer may have helped this! I’m guessing this larger natural beach was several miles north of the college campus, another reason for the cute college kids. A fun beach to play games.
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