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LIFE AND DEATH AND STAR WARS IN THE DUNES
The great and terrible beauty in Robert Frost’s work.
I experience my first touch of regret
for a voyage undertaken
too early, while wholly too late.
~ Melissa Duckworth, from the poem “Adrift”, first published in The MacGuffin, 2004
On my last day in Provincetown there was one place I’d never been: The Dunes. While most known, probably, for the presence of dune shacks—where famous writers and artists stayed to work—they’re also a popular tourist destination. But when we pulled the car over at an entrance point on Route 6, I had no idea—although I’d seen pictures—what venturing in would mean.
In 1974, my father wrote a paper called “Robert Frost: An Alternate View.” Not a very exciting title, I know, but accurate. His paper establishes that “the stereotyped portrait of Robert Frost is that of an American romantic—a “Farmer Brown,” so to speak—who loved nature and wrote affectionately about it”[1] and then posits to the contrary: that “Frost is presenting a view of natural process which is always uncaring and often cruel and heartless”[2] and that he “pictures a dark and hostile world bent on breaking the spirit of man.”[3]
My journey into The Dunes brought his thesis alive. Just like in Frost’s poetry, everywhere there was a strange beauty born of nature’s violence. Sea grasses whipped in the wind left intricate geometric patterns in the sand; a tree repeatedly brow-beaten by storms seemed to be rooted on both ends, forming a graceful arch; a freshly-dead seal carcass’ blood gleamed like a ruby against a monotonous beach. Simultaneously, there was the ugly presence of man-made objects in various states of decay. A rusted washing machine; shattered wine bottles; cracked and sand-filled plastic containers; splintered painted boards. This lent the landscape an unsettling air: these objects were alien beings in a warring world in which they couldn’t possibly survive.
But, as my father wrote, “The darkness, however, offers a strange fascination that entices man. It is a lure of beauty that is commingled with a lure of destruction.”[4] The Dunes is a beautiful and irresistible danger-fraught wasteland.
Like many situations in life.
[1] Charles W. Petersen, Robert Frost: An Alternate View. (Unpublished: April 30, 1974), p. 1
[2] Ibid., p. 3
[3] Ibid., p.17
[4] Ibid., p. 8
This was taken from a high point up off of Route 6 and shows The Dunes, where we were headed. The body of water you see in this photo has an interesting history. Originally, it was called East Harbor, and was Provincetown fishing fleet’s winter home. 1868, however, brought the construction of a dike to accommodate a railway and a roadway (where several seasonal resorts and cottages sit now). In 1910, the US Geological Survey re-named the body of water Pilgrim Lake.
The name stuck until 2008, when the USGS agreed to change the name back to East Harbor. If you’d like a much more detailed history, here’s a great article by the Provincetown Banner’s Kaimi Rose Lum.
The video below shows the full panoramic view: from this hill, you can see Truro, P-Town, and the bay beyond.
Here’s the path that connects Route 6 and The Dunes.
A second shot of the path; I really love these trees. They’re so beautifully skeletal.
We joked about how the scene resembles Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru’s homestead in the original Star Wars (1977)—a spot of civilization in a wasteland. We were also joking about how the piece of junk—because of the distance we weren’t sure what it was—looks like an R-2 Unit. My very first impression, though: a desert oasis.
This is a hallowed-out area that’s referred to as “The Bowl.”
I decided to walk above “The Bowl,” while Pete walked just around its inside rim. On the way back, however, he took my way, and it suddenly occurred to him—probably because he’d never seen it from higher up—that it looks like a crater. Although this probably was just created by wind erosion, it’s a fun notion.
We worked our way down from the rim of “The Bowl” and the landscape opened up enough so that we could see the beach: our destination. Yes. It is far. It is very far. What you can’t get a sense of in this photo is depth. Between here and there are many, many ups and downs and twists and turns.
These dot the valleys in particular. The wind blows down the weak-stemmed sea grass and pins it against the sand. Then the grass turns like the hands of a clock, creating these circular patterns. It reminds me of crop circles.
We're looking back at The Dunes; we’re now on the beach. That’s a log where we took a break and ate a couple of Nestle’s Crunch bars. We were the only people who had walked, or made it as far as, the beach since high tide that morning. (In fact, Pete noted that despite all the cars that were parked near ours, we hadn’t seen or heard anyone else). Those are our boot-prints; the rest of the area was smooth.
The beach.
* WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT AHEAD: ANIMAL CARCASS. IF SQUEAMISH, YOU MAY NOT WANT TO CONTINUE, OR SCROLL QUICKLY DOWN THROUGH TO THE NEXT RED TYPE YOU SEE*
Major. Score. Well, for me, anyway. When we were sitting on this quiet beach with not a soul around us, we noticed two large sea birds picking away at a carcass—a stunning dollop of red against miles of brown monotony. “That looks like a seal,” Pete said. I don’t know how he could tell what it was from that far away, but it turned out he was right. I’ve never actually seen a beached dead mammal up close, and having volunteered at Mystic Aquarium in Connecticut and helped out with animal rehabilitation, this was exciting—and a perfect example of what I’d discovered on our journey about the violence of nature.
Although Pete noted he thought it odd there were only two birds around the carcass—two birds who politely stepped away and let me take my photos and then returned when I was done—the markings in the sand indicate that there probably had been more than just these two at one time. I also thought—because of the brightness of the blood, the moistness of the innards, and the lack of smell—that the animal had been killed very recently (within the past twelve hours, maybe?) and most likely washed ashore and was left behind as the tide started pulling out. I took these photos at 12:45, and the last high tide was at 11. So it could have either been left behind just then, or left behind earlier, when the tide pulled out at 4 in the morning. I’d probably have a better answer if I’d paid attention to how wet the sand was. I’m regretting that now.
Of course, nobody knows when or how this poor creature died. But I have my romantic notions about shark attacks and boat propellers because of the way the body is twisted. While there’s a possibility that the seal washed up intact and then a large animal ravaged it, I don’t know if coyotes or whatever would have left this much meat behind. WHERE ARE YOU, BRUCE SHILLINGLAW, MARINE BIO GUY EXTRAORDINAIRE? YOU’RE GOOD AT THIS STUFF! COMMENT!
Because I just wanted more for the record, the video below is a roundabout of the carcass. There’s no sound except the wind, so it’s actually eerie.
* END GRAPHIC CONTENT*
We’re headed back now, and we have a long way to go. At the right of the picture, in the distance, there’s a notch. That’s where we’re headed, and there are several more treacherous ups and downs beyond that before we get back to the car.
The Dali Tree: This really does seem to be one tree, and it does seem to have roots at both ends; while it could be two that have grown into each other over time, it’d probably take an expert to figure that out. What I like most about it is how reminiscent it is of Salvador Dali’s The Persistence of Memory. I could see a melting clock draped over this thing, no problem.
The Persistence of Memory, Salvador Dali, 1931
This is the other side of the abandoned junk I photographed earlier.
The video, below, shows Pete checking it out. It’s an old washing machine, turned upside-down, and it’s full of wine bottles and trash.
That’s Pete laying down in the sand next to it. At first, this was an attempt to make another Star Wars reference—because of how far away it is and you don’t know what you’re looking at and there are just miles of sand, you could imagine that it was a small crashed ship and a dead pilot, I guess. Or a droid and a dead guy. But…
…but on second thought, this is a creepy end-note to this post. That nature is, as Dad put it, “a dark and hostile world bent on breaking the spirit of man”—and that nature always, in the end, succeeds.
GETTING TO THE CORE OF IT
This is an abandoned geology lab in Truro, Mass. It's quite a ways from any main roads, and most of the trek is uphill on deteriorating asphalt.
There’s an abandoned geology lab in Truro, so we geared up and headed out. Despite the fact that Pete said it wasn’t the place he was thinking of—there was an even cooler place just down the road—the lab was not only a beautiful example of art in decay, it was crammed with dated core samples and littered with items that didn’t seem like they’d belong in a geology lab. I love stuff like that, so I think it made a pretty fine “big ticket item.”
So I’ll give you the big news first: WE THINK WE CAUGHT TWO EVPs. I stress the word think–they’re still being looked at. An unexplained whispering in the “Pill Bottles” video, and an unexplained moan in the “Pete with Butt” video. I wish my camera had better audio, but there’s something definitely there. I have sent both videos off to qualified people with forensic experience in sound and better equipment. We’ll see what happens.
In the alleged EVP in “Pill Bottles”, I think the key will be if we can actually understand what the hell it says without totally front-loading. What we do know is that it’s not the wind (it was a still day and there was no wind in the building), it’s definitely broken into specific words, it wasn’t me (holding the camera and I’m rather loud) and it’s not Pete — his voice, although soft, is clearly masculine; this whisper has that spooky androgynous quality I’ve heard on far too many of Nathan’s EVPs.
As far as the “moan” in “Pete with Butts,” I can’t deny it could’ve been natural causes, although I think I would’ve heard something with my own ears if it were that loud — we were both very aware of sounds around us for safety reasons and pretty much stopped to listen if we heard something odd. But I must admit, those woods are full of coyotes, and people do walk their dogs there. If we can clean it up enough to hear it better, we may be able to identify it as an animal.
There’s very little about this location that pops up in any online research; however, I’m certain the NPS on the sign is an acronym for National Park Service, which manages, of course, the Cape Cod National Seashore. What I did find online was a very interesting Geologic Resource Evaluation Scoping Summary prepared by John Graham of the Geologic Resources Division of the National Park Service (US Department of Interior) and published on July 15, 2008. This fourteen-page PDF may give us some clues about the work they were doing in the building.
First, the document details exactly what they do know about the area’s geologic make up, and discusses extensive mapping procedures, especially of the area they call “North Truro”, which is where this lab is located. I have a feeling that this lab may have been partly responsible for some of the information contained in the report and many of the maps, possibly, that he refers to which have now been “digitized.”
Second, the building is littered with core samples. In the report, Graham talks a great deal about “stratigraphy” — a branch of geology that studies rocks and their layering. As far as I can remember, one of the practices used in any of the types of stratigraphy (I won’t go into it here, you can look it up or just read the PDF) is coring.
Third, there were several signs in the building that must have been put out in areas where terns were nesting, and this would tie in with the core sampling, maybe, because terns are particularly susceptible to disturbances in their nesting areas. These signs might have been used to tell people where they weren’t allowed to core.
Fourth, Pete did find a few rolls of unused paper that would have been used in a seismograph. In Graham’s report he specifically points out that seismic activity in Cape Cod is monitored, due to an earthquake in the 1700s. According to him, if such an event were to happen today, Boston would be in a lot of trouble.
Of course, what we don’t know is why this place was shut down. Perhaps someday we can get to the core of it. Someone’s got an answer somewhere. But until then what we do have is speculation, and Pete’s romantic spin on things. He quickly pointed out that the abandoned biology lab we’d visited back on January 23 was full of the evidence of partying: tons of beer bottles, graffiti, two-thirds-full packs of cigarettes. All we found at the geology lab was one beer cap from a Newcastle, but Pete was pretty sure he knew who it belonged to, because he had a friend who’d come up there once by himself and had one beer but then left. “We found one beer cap,” he said. “Not a six pack, not a pack of cigarettes, no graffiti, nothing recent, nothing. Now, it’s the furthest point out, and it’s also the highest point, and who the hell wants to be hammered walking back from that shit? But, you know. Do you get what I’m saying?”
Yeah, I get what you’re saying, Pete.
These are all totally wild guesses on my part and I could be completely wrong, but it’s fun to think about. If you’d like to read John Graham’s report, it’s available here as a PDF hosted on this blog: CACO_scoping_summary_20081223. For purposes of citing the original source, which is the appropriate thing to do, here’s the link where it can be found online: http://www.nature.nps.gov/GEOLOGY/inventory/publications/s_summaries/CACO_scoping_summary_20081223.pdf. If you want a good ghost story or two, head on over to the “Read My Work” tab and check out “Screams of Autumn” or “Wailing Station.”
Photos and videos below; my little camera doesn’t do well with audio, so I put transcripts of what was said in the videos below each one. Keep in mind, also, that when we finally get around to analyzing those EVPs, we may not be able to decipher what it says due to the audio’s low quality. But for now you can try to listen to the whisper and the odd sound and make your own call.
This is a view of it from what we think was the parking area for the employees. Because of the tree growth, it's hard to spot as you're walking up the winding, broken roads. We didn't see it until we stepped into the clearing.
The wire fences that surround it are rusted and unlocked. What I find odd is the barbed wire around the top. While I'm sure it's a common security measure, the romantic in me fantasizes about what could be in a geology lab that would deem barbed wire critical. There's a story cooking.
The fenced-in area includes the lab, which is to the right when you walk through the fence, a shed of some kind, and to the left, what I think might be part of the building's power source. It's fenced in separately, and this is the sign inside it. Those fences were lockd, although I wouldn't enter anything that gave me a warning like that anyway.
This is definitely a power-generating unit of some sort; it's next to that separate fenced-in area depicted above. I didn't get it in the shot, but the unit does bear the General Electric brand name and logo.
This is a window at the back of the building, just before the entrance. Notice the broken glass inside. That room was accessible, but it was pretty much full of broken glass. There was a board and an office chair, nothing exciting enough that I'd want to wade through the shards.
The lab had several of these stoves. The black junk all over this one is probably stuff that fell from the rotting ceiling--I didn't see much in the way of animal excrement.
The stove I just showed you is behind this rusted water heater. I love the pattern of the wall decay. I'm guessing this wall was temporarily put in to create storage and wasn't finished on the side we're looking at.
This is the main room. The ceilings in this building were in particularly bad shape.
This is what I meant when I said "things you don't expect to see in a geology lab." Unless some employees stayed over; maybe they did keep a bed for emergencies. It just seems strange.
Pete and I thought that these signs didn't belong in this building in the first place; maybe someone needed to dump them and had nowhere else to go. It's interesting to note, though, that on some of the signs the style of the writing is the same as it is on the building's nameplate. Maybe there were "shuttle stops" all along these roads for employees. Who knows? And although I didn't get too many photographs, in another room there were several stacks of signs in similar condition that were warnings for bird nesting areas.
About Walking on Insulation (Video)
This was a room at the back of the building which wasn’t locked, but the door to get in was badly warped. Pete managed to shoulder it open, though, and the ceilings are rapidly approaching non-existent–most of the material has fallen to the floor and is so decayed and wet you can’t even tell what it is (it also felt grossly squishy, like walking on sponges). The room featured several collapsing racks of geologic core samples that had been left behind. Most of the samples are dated, but don’t have any information as to the location from which they were taken.
Walking on Insulation Video Transcript
P: There’s racks and racks of core samples back here.
K: My God. I don’t even want to know what all this shit is we’re walking on right now.
P: It’s just old, smushed insulation.
This is a bathroom that was across from the core samples in the room we were just in. That sink shares a wet wall with a couple of showers on the other side, which you can only access from the large room where the bed remains are.
Here's a core sample. These litter the floors. Well, at least we know the place was still operating in 1979.
This is the inside of a freezer or cold storage; the wheel, which moves the shelves up and down, still works. A video of this is below, but visually, it's poor, since I don't have a light on my small camera; we just shot it because the sound it made was so wonderfully eerie in conjunction with our surroundings we wanted to have a record.
Working Crank (Video)
Working Crank Video Transcript
P: Look at that, it still works.
P: That [wheel] makes it go…the crank makes it go up and down.
K: It still works?
P: Yeah, yeah. (Eerie sounds) Reminds me of that old game Myst.
After we left the core sample room and closed the door, we entered another room that jutted off the main building. This is my favorite photo--look at the icicles clinging to the wood. It was beautiful; it reminded me of an ice cathedral.
About Pill Bottles (Video)
Of course, these weren’t really bottles of pills. They were probably sand samples; we couldn’t get into the mess to really pick any up and identify them. This was also the room–you’ll see it in the video–where there are signs warning about disturbing nesting terns. In addition, listen closely–with good headsets, or try to load it through your i-Tunes, it helps–to the moment before I say, “wanna go hit the warehouse?” This is the first of the alleged EVPs we picked up.
Pill Bottles Video Transcript
K: Just, the deterioration on that roof is like–
P: Did you ever see so many pill bottles in your life?
(K laughs)
P: Those look like sand samples, maybe, or I dunno, that’s what it looks like.
[Unexplained whispering JUST before K says ‘wanna go hit the warehouse’; neither of us spoke, this could be an EVP, I’ll have to check it out. We will keep you posted either way in a future blog post.]
K: Wanna go hit the warehouse?
P: Get what you can from here [referring to photos]
About Pete with Butt (Video)
Honestly, I just shot this because he was holding paperwork and reading it with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and for some reason this cracked me up. But the paperwork he found was pretty interesting, so I’m sharing this here. He’s been to this location before and noted that there was much more paperwork in the drawers of the desk, but since the last time he visited, the drawers have completely rusted to the point where they can no longer be opened.
Also note that this is the video that contains the second alleged EVP that sounds like a moan. It’s noted in the transcript.
And no, we didn’t leave any cigarette butts behind. We’re explorers, not litterers.
Pete with Butt Video Transcript
P: It’s a contract work schedule.
K: Really? (Thumping of boots on broken door; to self): Gotta make sure this holds (unexplained moan or sound in background immediately ensues. This is the second thing that may be an EVP we have to check into. We’ll keep you posted whether we think it’s legit or not).
P: Contract work to commence immediately on June 1, 1976.
K: Oh my God, it’s like the old typing.
P: Yeah.
We found this in the room adjacent to where we found the contract paperwork: the old fold-down style attic stairs (I know houses have them now, but in modern ones they're much better constructed). These, however, were completely solid and safe to climb on. It was a creepy experience for me--they were THE SAME TYPE we had in my Dad's house. Shiver.
A close-up of the fold-down stairs. If there ever had been anything in this attic, I think it's weird the deserters left it that way. Of course, urban explorers could have come in before us and pulled it down and left it, too. But do you know how when you're little everything just looks so big and tall? These stairs, although the same as the ones at Dad's, were twice as high. So I had that strange feeling of being five as I looked up at them.
About Attic Ladder (Video)
This was the total jackpot of this place, I thought, because of the awful memories it evoked for me. This video was when we first discovered the stairs, and we’re talking about it; this is just before Pete convinced me it was safe enough for me to climb up there (he did it himself, first). The roll of paper you see him checking out on the desk is the one that I suspect would have been used in a seismograph that I mentioned earlier in this post.
No transcript for Attic Ladder Video — it’s me and I’m loud.
A shot of the attic roof before I got too high up on the ladder. I don't know if perhaps a ceiling fan went in there, but if it did, that wouldn't make sense unless there were some kind of cover on it, or the whole place would be damaged. There are clearly some rust streaks indicating that water does flow down through there, but, as you'll see in the ensuing pictures, the wood planking and the insulation in this attic area is in pretty good shape. In fact, it looks almost brand-new, or like the one in my own house.
Welcome to Creepsville, folks! This is exactly what the attic looked like in my Dad's house, although I must say, considering the place is abandoned and my Dad's wasn't, I'm very impressed by the lack of bat guano. Rock on.
I'm thinking this was duct work for a heating system. I did mention to Pete I didn't see any animal excrement at all, though, and was surprised. I mean, this stuff all looks like it could be in a new house.
Look closely. Think it might be a little late for the ant killer?
NMWC INVITE, PTOWN ADVENTURES, SCREAMS OF AUTUMN, RAGNAROK
Feb 3
Posted by kristipetersenschoonover
Well, the Norman Mailer Writer’s Colony invited me to stay on for two more weeks, and thanks to the incredible generosity of several people—particularly those at work (who the hell is luckier than me?)—I could accept the offer! I’ll be here, working, until February 14!
The Norman Mailer Writer’s Colony.
My writing place — I’ve totally nested!
A cute new wine I discovered! Yummy!
I’ve had a few awesome adventures in the past week. I had a lovely lunch at Fanizzi’s with Guy (administrator of the NMWC), where I had FRESH Fish ‘N’ Chips. Wow. I grew up thinking they were greasy, heavy, and mealy. Yeah. Not so much. That comes from living in a land-locked place, I guess.
Guy and I at Fanizzi’s.
View from our table at Fanizzi’s.
I helped Peter change batteries in the smoke detectors in a few local apartments, and also, when it was brutally cold, go and check all the water pipes in the sub-basements (it’s just beach sand and dried seaweed for flooring. Totally wild!) Pete and I are Michael Jackson fans, and we were lucky enough that The Cape Inn’s Whaler Lounge was playing This is It. What does that mean? It’s a local thing. It’s a cozy lounge with comfy chairs, cocktail seating, FREE movies, and awesome eats (we had a pizza, and then ended up leaving the leftovers in my trunk for a day. Good thing it was cold out. It probably kept better than it would have in a refrigerator).
Me and Pete the next-door neighbor. We don’t have to look for trouble. It finds us.
The Cape Inn Whaler Lounge. This is the photo from their website; I didn’t take this. It’s actually so much more classy and elegant than this photo suggests. They’re playing Zombieland next week and we plan to go, so hopefully I’ll get a few shots then.
Charles came up to visit over the weekend, and we had dinner at Michael Shay’s (among Norman’s favorite places to eat) and brunch at Fanizzi’s ($12.95 and it’s breakfast AND lunch – I’ve never eaten mussels over pasta at brunch before). We also visited Norman Mailer’s grave and explored the cemetery, and I have to say, I’ve never seen such interesting stones. It may be because this is such a highly creative town, but many of the stones are quirky works of art.
Mailer’s grave. Note the sea shells and other items which were left behind as tributes by prior visitors.(Please note — I don’t feel funny posting a photo of his grave here, because the link above will take you to FindAGrave with more specific details, including a photo and location. So this is considered public information).
This is a really cool shop downtown.
DEFINITELY my kind of place!
I just loved this window display. Charles did the best he could to capture it, but with the bright sun and the reflections, it was hard.
Isn’t this cool? It’s all Lobster Traps. They light it up at night and it’s gorgeous.
My short story “Screams of Autumn” is now available at Spilt Milk: an online literary journal! You can read this story at http://warmmilkpress.blogspot.com/. It should be at that link, right on the front page, for a couple weeks, and then after that they’ll move it to the archives, which is down at the bottom of the page. To those of you who’ve read it already, thanks for all the awesome comments you’ve left! You guys rock! It’s especially inspiring to get such great encouragement when I’m up here churning out more.
“Ragnarok” by Patrick Scalisi is our most recent selection for Read Short Fiction and is up on the site now at www.readshortfiction.com. If you love Norse mythology—and especially if you’re a fan of LOKI—don’t miss this hilarious twist on an old tale told in contemporary language. If you liked my short story “King of Bull,” especially, you’ll DEFINITELY go for this one. And if you read it and have something thoughtful to say, please feel free to comment. We like to hear from our readers!
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Tags: Adventures, Cape Inn, Cemetery, Comments, Fanizzi's, Good Cheap Wine, LOKI, Mailer's Grave, Michael Shay's, Norman Mailer Writer's Colony, Patrick Scalisi, Provincetown, Ragnarok, Read Short Fiction, Screams of Autumn, Spilt Milk, This is It, Writing