Limitations? Nah!!! Well, maybe a few…

Scargo Tower, Cape Cod

I find myself on Cape Cod, my home away from home, and get an idea to use in my next book. I want to experience the adventure myself in order to write more authentically about it. Have you done this? This is not new for me. Back in 2004, I did a freelance story for Cape Cod Magazine

called, In Search of the Perfect Kayaking Spot. It was my first “big break.” They wanted me to go kayaking at various locations on Mid-Cape and write about it. So I did. But first, I had to buy a kayak…Anyway, my point is that if you want to write about something, it helps, when possible, to have had a similar experience. You bring more juice to it, you know?

So I convinced Jim to go to what some say is the highest point on Cape Cod. Where the 30’ cobblestone Scargo Tower hidden amongst the trees, awaits. Spectacular views, gray skies, high winds, and very cool pre-spring temps were present. I bundle up with mittens and a scarf and survey the situation at the base. A narrow 39-step spiral staircase leads us to the top. With more energy than I thought I had in me, I scale the steps in quick time toward the lookout. The views were nice, but I was more impressed with my ability to zip up those stairs. My legs had not climbed a 30-foot tower in …well, probably ever. Going down was not so easy. I have arthritis in one knee that is doing a little bone-on-bone action, so I had to go down slowly. But it turns out not nearly as slow as Jim, who, in all honesty, had been recovering from a broken elbow for several months. I would have thought that going up would be more challenging than going down. Not the other way around. Anyway, now I know what Scargo Tower is like.

We headed over to a certain beach where I wanted to get photos for my book cover. I guess I thought I was on a roll, unstoppable. With Jim still recovering from the tower, he waited in the car while I grabbed my phone and headed between the dunes to get the perfect shot. Sounds easy enough, right? Not quite. On another day, one of multiple trips to that location to get that perfect shot, I learned that large construction vehicles were moving sand around and piles were very loose. The vehicles weren’t there that day. So I walked toward my desired location to take photos, hoping to get that one perfect shot. I just needed one. The perfect one. It was still cold, cloudy, and windy. I saw no one else around. But who would be on the beach in that?  It didn’t phase me at all. Just to confirm, I later discovered sand on the dashboard of the car. It was windy.

After several shots from all angles, I turn to head back to the car and, with no warning, find myself face down in the sand. Flat out, with a grip on my phone as if  I were Rose holding Jack’s hand as the Titanic begins to sink. I tried to get up and kept sinking into the soft sand. My ailing knee didn’t help. A woman came out of nowhere from walking down by the water’s edge and helped me up (after I declined her offer several times: “I’m okay, I’m okay.” ). She didn’t walk away. She waited. And with the patience of a saint, she waited some more. God bless her, or I might still be lying there. Jim would eventually have braved the cold to come looking for me…I think.

Limitations? Nah….