We rolled into Grayton Beach State Park early afternoon and snagged one of the last walk-in spots available. It is a great little park, with nice, private sites close to the water, shower/bathroom facilities, and 3G enabling us to take care of our errands, woo hoo!
We set up camp and trekked down to the beach for a looksie. The more we walked, the more we hacked. The dogs started coughing and wheezing as well. Turns out the red tide was quite a bit more harsh than we were led to believe. The beach was quite beautiful, very few people, but it was extremely uncomfortable to stand there. The red tide was that irritating. On the way back to camp, we noticed everyone else coughing as well. We talked to a few people and most everyone was unaware of why they were feeling sick. 
We cleaned up dinner and put trash into the old sealable dog food bag to deal with later. As we settled in for some relaxation, we heard a commotion outside. The dogs didn’t budge. I peeked out the door and saw the dog food bag rustling, then it took off. I jumped out of the van and grabbed it just as it reached the thickets, but it pulled back at me! I jerked the bag and something took off into the brush. What the hell was that? And why the heck didn’t the dogs do anything? All day whenever someone walks by the campsite, they go nuts (which is ridiculous because they love everyone) but we have an actual intruder and they just lie there! Well come on Rose, let’s bring this bag to the dumpster. 
As we drift to sleep something from the back of the van wakes us. We hear it again. What the heck is it now? Still the dogs don’t budge. I slip out the side door and sneak around the back, oh my Lord!! There he is, a big ‘ol raccoon. We look eye to eye and yell at each other with surprise! I have been keeping the dog food in a latched tub, on top of the swing box. The raccoon is perched on top of it all, about 5+ feet in the air, trying to pry the second latch open. He stops for a minute because I startled him, but quickly goes back to his business of trying to get into the box. I yell at him to get off, but he could care less. I grab the broom and shake it in his face, yelling! This has a better effect. He finally jumps down, but then there we are, a freaking showdown! Get out of here you little thief! I finally charge him, shaking the broom in his face and he runs off. (Total Griswald situation, never leave trash or dog food around your site and never feed wild animals, obviously.)
