After much Graham-goading, Lauren finally helped me understand what a good idea it would be to get out of the city for a day. A quick call to Hertz and 2.5 of driving landed at the edge of New York State, finding a climate cooler than we had hoped, but beautiful nonetheless. Starting with our usual touring the Hamptons finest, oohing and ahhing at the once-described “f**koff houses,” we called an audible and decided to continue our journey on to Montauk.

More photos after the break…

Having only heard of Montauk in the same breath as the Hamptons, both Lauren and I assumed it would be much of the same. All manicured lawns and shapely shrubbery, you know, the usual. But as we ventured farther, the cookie-cutter-shutters of East Hampton began to fade, replaced instead with weather-worn beach houses and quirky motels. The vibe was totally different, and though most of the town was shut-down in honor of the off-season, you could tell that the folks here had little likeness to the their Hamptonian counterparts.

I mean, just look at this funky roadside prop store, I just had to stop and document. The parking lot was overrun with merchandise, and the store itself was not remotely navigable, and all this in spite of the encouraging year round 50% off sale. Makes me regret overpaying for that Velociraptor piece, if only I had known…

From there it only got better. I couldn’t get enough of the Montauk Motels. There’s this little strip right by the water that’s littered with them, and the ghost town vibe only added to my fascination

We continued our tour down the coast, traveling to the tip and back down again. We veered off here and there, checking out dunes and docks alike, enjoying the drive without any agenda to speak of. One such impulse found us popping through reeds to find a quiet inlet, complete with bobbing rowboats and bleached seashells.

Finished with the grand tour, we decided it was finally time to hit the beach. Finding a nice parking lot with minimal surveillance, we chanced a ticket in favor of immediate access (it’s also worth noting how AWESOME it is to have a PAIR of bikes that can fit in the back of a rented corolla, epic)

Once on the sand, it was a bit chillier than we had wished, or at least that was our excuse to hide our uncharacteristically pasty bodies. Personally, I like the Missoni Mummy look…but that is just one man’s opinion

As we settled in and let the sun warm our bones a bit, I had the romantic notion of going for a swim. A toe-tap in the frigid water quickly dissolved that fantasy, but as I walked back to base camp I noticed something in the sand. I couldn’t believe my eyes, I remember my Mom talking about mermaid’s purses, but I had never imagined finding one! Barely able to contain my excitement, I ran up to Lauren making little boy squeals, so excited to show her this sundried shark egg. A quick Google search confirmed that this was a legit artifact, and we both oogled at the blackened, battered, but beautiful piece of nature.

If we were enamored with the first mangled casing, imagine our surprise when we looked a bit closer. These eggs were strewn and scattered throughout the high tide line, turning the previously rare find into the ocean’s version of a purse sample sale. To quote Lauren “I’m never going swimming here”

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and this trip ended with a semi-brutal drive back into the city (thank you closed Williamsburg Bridge!). But we won’t dwell on that, we will remember the good times, the good company, and of course, the shark eggs…