By MIKE PURPURA
On July 16, at 6 a.m., the earth was cloaked in cotton candy clouds as 200 airplanes converged on Washington Island in Wisconsin for the annual fish boil.
Some slipped unnoticed across the Cheddar Curtain and into Wisconsin from Northern Illinois. Others flew east out of the North Woods and across Green Bay. A few pilots and passengers put on their life vests and flew across the lake at Charlevoix, skipping over the Beaver Island chain and following the coast down to Washington Island. They flew in for one purpose: To enjoy boiled Whitefish, potatoes, onions and friends. [Read more…]