The Gray Harbor Boardwalk is no Coney Island, but it tries. The wood-slats line the pebbly beach below, then reach out into the ocean with thick pillars cemented into the surf; at low-tide there are deep, hollow, dark retreats under the boardwalk. Above it, a few touristy shops make just enough money selling painted seashells or pearl jewelry to stay in business. Booths are more popular, offering the kind of bad-for-you food that people seem to think is important at seaside. A few rides operate year-round, but only on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays - bumper cars, tilt-a-whirl, and (of course) the ferris wheel; during the week, they sit idle and unused, covered by tarps. But, on the weekends, they come to life with faded paint and aging gears.