Friday, September 21, 2018

In Wellfleet: some sadness, some sun, also tipping over but having fun

View from the bench on an overcast day
One of the first things I did on this little trip to Wellfleet was to take my beau over Uncle Tim's Bridge to the bench book. It is one of the most peaceful spots that I know.

We sat on the bench, and I wrote down my thoughts about coming here with my kids, and about how restorative it was to sit there and let your cares drift away. A nearby resident has been maintaining it for years. When it gets filled up with peoples' thoughts, someone takes it and places a new one in a little wooden treasure chest.

Waiting for table at Beachcomber, 2012
I looked up Uncle Tim's Bridge bench book and my blog post, Wonderful Wellfleet, came up fifth. I must have unintentionally good SEO or something. It was from 2012. I wrote this about our visit to Provincetown: "Joe, who is understandably upset by my falls, watched me like a hawk when we walked through Provincetown's busy streets. Step up, step down, step up, step down, he said. At one point when we were all in a gallery, I "escaped" by going out to the street by myself. "Hey, come back here and get back on your leash!" he said. I ultimately just walked along holding his arm, which was comforting because I knew I wouldn't fall."

I also wrote about how the seals seemed to be getting too close to the shore on the ocean side. Most everyone now is talking about the seals, what to do about the increasing population that is bringing sharks closer to the shore, and specifically about the recent fatal attack.

Jeff and I walked on that beach, Newcomb Hollow, on a day so misty that my glasses kept getting wet. People stood silently for a few minutes at the memorial for 26-year-old Arthur Medici. You don't want to speak badly about the dead, but all around, in the discussions, some were wondering why he and a friend went so far out, off-season, on a day when there was no lifeguard to warn them of the danger.

Memorial at Newcomb Hollow Beach
Some local officials want to cull the population of seals, which are on the endangered species list, but many are against that and are proposing other ways to keep swimmers safe, and to help fishermen who say the seals are taking their fish. Maybe the idiot climate-change deniers should wake up to the fact that there is a scientific reason that the warming oceans are contributing to the problem.

But back to good things.

The sand was hard, providing a good surface for a run, so I ditched my Tevas and went up ahead a little when walking on the beach on this moody day. It was actually a trot, in between a walk and a run. But it felt good. I stopped to do some yoga.

 Out of our four days here, only one had some sun, but in a way it was good because we didn't have to worry about getting sunburnt. We covered most of the bases: a walk along the bay and beach, dinner at Mac's restaurant and lunch at the dock, a little shopping, a walk around Provincetown, coffee, a visit to a newfound treasure – Chequessett Chocolate –  in North Truro, dinner at a new discovery, also in Truro, Blackfish, (formerly a blacksmith shop), and just plain breathing in the wonderful air.

I also spent a little time in an ambulance.

We were biking on the bike path. I got a "foolproof, "step-through" frame after my accident on my old bike. To me it does not seem like a real bike. But of course it is, and you see more and more of them around. Anyway, it was quiet so we didn't have to make full stops at the stop signs. When we got to Orleans Center, there was a sign instructing you to get off your bike. Jeff stopped and went across.

Cloudy day on Newcomb Hollow Beach
Maybe I was daydreaming about how I used to work there, and about how it looked different from when I hung out there with my high school boyfriend.

Maybe I hadn't stretched enough. I don't really know. My right foot was on the ground, and as I lifted my left foot over, my toe got stuck in the frame near the pedal. The bike started to tip over. I had that moment when you say, "Oh, no." I tumbled to the pavement. The bike tipped over onto me. The brake handle cut into my shin. I sat cross-legged and took one look at it and squeezed my hand on top of it. I was wearing gloves and pressed them down hard. It looked like a good gash.

I motioned to Jeff. He came over, walking pretty slowly, because he said later that he thought I was taking a rest to do yoga. He went back to get his bike. A couple stopped. The man went into the bike shop right next to wear I was and brought out some gauze. Jeff brought a bandana over. We made a tourniquet. A nice Orleans police office, whose name, appropriately, was cutter, said he sees all sorts of crashes at the same spot. Some ride right into the yellow pole.

He called the paramedics. They came in an ambulance. An Orleans police officer took Jeff to an Eastham police officer who took him back to get the car. I said why don't we just bandage it tightly so we could keep riding. They said they didn't think so.

The paramedics took me into the ambulance. I lay on the stretcher and had a lovely talk with the female paramedic. We talked about many things, ranging from plantar fasciitis to the propensity of  seals. She showed me a video, taken from above, of seals along Monomoy Island. There are apparently 50,000 off the coast.

I guess there aren't many nerve endings on the shin because it was stinging more than hurting.

Jeff came and we went to urgent care at Fontaine Outpatient Center. A friendly doctor said that in season, every day they see some 150 patients who have had some sort of accident. My blood pressure was high, though not terrible, about 155 over 100. I was glad that I had Ativan in the car.

Ooops
The doctor gave me 12 stitches. I also got a tetanus shot. He said that if I put a sock over it, I could bike the next day. That takes us to yesterday. We biked around some trails in Provincetown and ended up a beautiful Herring Cove Beach. A (relatively) new concession stand, Far Land on the Beach, appeared in front of us. It had a solar roof and not-your-traditional offering, such as kale salad, which the woman at the window promised that they massaged, so it wouldn't be tough.

Looking out at the sun glinting on the water, we had the best kale salad with chick peas, and a fish sandwich with french fries. I held up a crispy french fry and said, this is the life, a crispy french fry, a fresh fish sandwich, and kale salad that actually tastes good.

Too bad this is the last day. I'm sitting on the little deck.
Our Airbnb hosts, Susannah and Russell, have three baby goats. It's funny to be on a beach vacation and hear goats in the background. The black cat, Fiddle, is around here somewhere. Susannah is going to make us eggs. Every day she bakes wonderful muffins. She made blueberry, cranberry, and her speciality, with chocolate mixed in.

Yesterday, I stretched before I got on the bike. Jeff watched me get on and off and concluded the tipping over thing was a fluke. Since we did pretty well yesterday, we're going to take one more bike ride before we leave the Cape.

View of Herring Cove
I wanted to jump in a pond, especially since there wasn't time to jump in a lake in Wisconsin, but now because of the stitches I can't do it. That's OK, though. It's a beautiful day and we're going to meander out of here and make a couple of stops, including maybe a bike ride at Nickerson State Park. It's hard to leave Wellfleet, for sure.

Joe called and I told him that the bike tipped over onto me. He said it's an improvement because it wasn't a bad fall. After one of my BIG falls, Aldo, the Mount Holyoke tennis coach, said I need to learn how to roll when I fall. That's kind of what I did, so I guess it goes with my theme of learning how to fall, in general.

2 comments:

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Runder-Woman,
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