Mission: Lake --FAIL!
On Friday Daniel and I decided that since we had nothing to do this weekend, we would attempt a day trip to Charleston on Saturday. I NEEDED to swim and our pool is out of commission at the moment with the construction they are doing to the clubhouse. However, we realized that with me being preggo and all we should probably stay a little closer to home and go to the lake instead. We could have gone to Daniel's parents' house as they live on the lake and they have a boat and there's also a public beach area, but we decided that we really just wanted to relax and his parents aren't the most relaxing people to be around. So instead we opted for a local public "beach access" area on Lake Wylie called Windjammer Beach, near Tega Cay.
Big mistake.
First, the directions were stupid and took us in circles. We finally found the swim/beach club in TegaCay, but it wasn't the place we saw online. We unloaded the cooler and towels and headed down to the water, but there was no real beach. The ground just kinda dropped a foot into the water. We took Emma with us as she likes the water, but the foot drop made her nervous so that was a no-go. There was another retriever type dog there and his owners were throwing a frisbee into the water wherein the dog would jump out, fetch the frisbee and swim back to shore. Emma was very curious about this, but couldn't work up the nerve to actually jump in with the other dog. She was content with sniffing the other dog when it got back on the shore and getting smacked int he face with the dog's wet tail.
So we packed things back up and went off again in search of this beach. We got some directions from a local resident and finally found the beach, in a totally different place then where the directions told us. As we pulled up though we saw "Parking by Permit" only signs. Permit? HOw do we get one of those? Daniel asked a couple who was getting out of their car -- They directed us to the police station. Went to the police station. They told us to go to the administrative office at Tega Cay. Went there. No one was around. We decided to try our luck back at the beach club -- Success! They said sure we could get he permit there. They just need our ID, registration, and $150. Huh? Excuse me? $150? Seriously? And not as a deposit. As payment. Daniel was like "Yeah, no thanks."
We ended up spending two hours in the hot car with a panting dog and a giant cooler and no R&R as planned. However, our sheer frustration turned into a serious case of the giggles and the 20 minute car ride home proved to be hilarious once our anger subsided. Our slogan for the day became "Fuck Tega Cay!" and we have since dubbed it the scariest place on earth.
Next time we'll just fill up our bathtub and slap on some water wings.
Big mistake.
First, the directions were stupid and took us in circles. We finally found the swim/beach club in TegaCay, but it wasn't the place we saw online. We unloaded the cooler and towels and headed down to the water, but there was no real beach. The ground just kinda dropped a foot into the water. We took Emma with us as she likes the water, but the foot drop made her nervous so that was a no-go. There was another retriever type dog there and his owners were throwing a frisbee into the water wherein the dog would jump out, fetch the frisbee and swim back to shore. Emma was very curious about this, but couldn't work up the nerve to actually jump in with the other dog. She was content with sniffing the other dog when it got back on the shore and getting smacked int he face with the dog's wet tail.
So we packed things back up and went off again in search of this beach. We got some directions from a local resident and finally found the beach, in a totally different place then where the directions told us. As we pulled up though we saw "Parking by Permit" only signs. Permit? HOw do we get one of those? Daniel asked a couple who was getting out of their car -- They directed us to the police station. Went to the police station. They told us to go to the administrative office at Tega Cay. Went there. No one was around. We decided to try our luck back at the beach club -- Success! They said sure we could get he permit there. They just need our ID, registration, and $150. Huh? Excuse me? $150? Seriously? And not as a deposit. As payment. Daniel was like "Yeah, no thanks."
We ended up spending two hours in the hot car with a panting dog and a giant cooler and no R&R as planned. However, our sheer frustration turned into a serious case of the giggles and the 20 minute car ride home proved to be hilarious once our anger subsided. Our slogan for the day became "Fuck Tega Cay!" and we have since dubbed it the scariest place on earth.
Next time we'll just fill up our bathtub and slap on some water wings.