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June 13, Bulletin Seeing Colors We are excited to introduce some of our members and share the current art exhibit on display at The Commons. We also want you to llonely in ptoqn events happening in the month of June. Please follow us on social media to stay up to date to our ongoing progress. If you still have not had an opportunity to visit us please stop in to take a tour of the space.
I should mention that this was the constant background noise all the way to Provincetown. Too cold? The last hill before Provincetown.
Too quiet? That feeling has persisted. Less than a quarter of a mile from there I was climbing the steepest hill on the trek so far. It was a im curb of maybe 26 inches, and somewhat more than my wandering mind was expecting, so I stumbled a little, which importantly helped to refocus my attention just as an eighteen-wheeler came careening onto the opposite end of the bridge at top speed, probably 45 miles per hour, thundering the structure under my blades.
My last thought falling asleep was, "That's it. It wasn't too long after that that the seminal incident of the skate occurred: unconsciousness. When there was no breakdown lane, I had to skate in one of the lanes out on the highway, and that was really frightening. My staff told me that they selected this excellent motel for two reasons: one, its location, of course; andit had a very good restaurant.
There was a mile-marking system along the side of the road loonely I thought I had it figured out, but I didn't. Missing Rutherford was bad, but it was understandable. “The major renovations [on Holway] will be so disruptive that we will.
Never having swum with full roller blading gear on helmet, elbow, wrist and knee p, plus, of course the weight of skates themselves and a water-logged backpack I quickly opted out of that alternative and stayed on the sidewalk. I was drinking constantly now, never putting the bottle down, lonel one bottle and then the other, then searching around people's houses for water hoses on my hands and knees, or stopping at gas stations and demanding water "Quick!
I said to them, "It's less than ten miles, and it's easy-going from here on out, right? I saw a little herd of turtles slowly crossing the path in perfect safety. I stood up, still in my skates and looked around. People always ask how I survive winters in Provincetown. It was and it still is wonderful to have done it.
And then I skated on. Boring? I know now, that no one has ever done it before. Lknely knees were burning, my calves were cramping, I was out of water again and thirsty. Yes, it is.
I scared the daylights out her and she almost got in a wreck. This was the first time I noticed that with all the fluids I had consumed, I had actually felt no urge to urinate. I want to travel more and do art residencies but love my home base. That felt better, but the road grit loneyl my skin diminished the comfort of the change, the grittiness reminding me of how far I had yet to go. I was panting like a ptoan dog, I watched the big muscles in my calves cramp as though with an alien possession, and my heart began to feel strange.
I looked at my watch.
Ordinarily that is no problem I skate in the rain all the time. Two hours later I was in Dennis sitting in a Wendy's having hot chocolate with a retired wounded veteran named Charlie in a wheelchair. As I neared the Malden Bridge, the ocean came back into view on the right. When I woke up, the water was cold and wrappers were floating around.
At the top I nearly collapsed, but skated on and on, trying to gauge, with each stroke, how much farther I had to go. For a moment in time, I was there with the full knowledge and appreciation for the distances, the ro and hills, for my wonderful skates, and my unbelievable body and its tested durability. She gave me some fruit and clean, cool water to drink and then, believe it or not, followed me the next six miles to Bourne in her Suburban. The skate from the bridge to Provincetown was just as difficult as the day before, but now I was starting out exhausted and discouraged, not foolishly optimistic.
Isn't it lonely? Not to be. Once in Duxbury, all I was thinking about was getting to Plymouth. One hill seemed almost as if it was going to actually kill me. At this point, I knew where I was and the general direction I wanted to go, but I had never been in this exact area before.
Well, yes, it's quiet and cold and you do have to be the. The food was so delicious I was licking my plate and eating everyone's leftovers. There were vistas of the wetlands all around, and birds and other wildlife were everywhere. Their generosity, as much lonelyy the rest and nourishment, had truly, perhaps ironically, lifted my spirits tremendously.
WELLFLEET — “We all have to go through this pandemic, and my feeling is no one is going through it alone,” said Dale Rheault, one of the. Both in Plymouth and at the Armistons' grassy knoll, I was pleading with them to call my wife and have her come and get me. Finally, at peace. The lonely VFW building will soon receive some much needed attention.
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