Down, Thou Climbing Sorrow* (part one)

I have to break this into parts, because it's pretty long and fairly loaded with photos.  Somewhere in all of this there is a tutorial on amputee hill walking -- especially downhill walking, hence the rather tortured pun of a title -- which was my original point in creating what has become this series.  First, though, I want to tell you a little about part of why I've bothered to get so good at it.

I love where I live.  It is full of adventures waiting to happen, not to mention all the adventures which already have happened to other people, and which linger, palpably, and certainly by constant, most cordial invitation.  (Click to enlarge.)

My town is very big on memorializing stuff which has already happened.  It's a large part of its charm.  It's why a lot of people visit here in the first place.

Here Patriot's Day is more than just a day off. (Click to enlarge.)

We have lots of plaques, too.  Right in the town center, we have a plaque commemorating a pond,

a plaque for a dam,

and we even have a plaque memorializing a tree.

Naturally, we have war memorials, too.

We have lots of them.  Those three, in fact, are just off to one side of an entire square --

Monument Square --

devoted to city offices and war memorials. 

Tragically, we keep having to add on.

Concord also has lots of graveyards.

Really. (Click to enlarge.)

Lots.  (Click to enlarge.)

And they're all very interesting.  But it's not just about the past here, or the dead and lost.  Across the street from a local funeral parlor (click to enlarge),

the living can get our hair done for any occasion, including, apparently, an eternal one.  (Click to enlarge.)

The town is full of timely reminders,

including exhortations to read.

We have a simply gorgeous library (click to enlarge),

and a well-respected prep school

which, like the town, respects tradition,

but is not afraid to embrace change where appropriate.

We have our own summer stage

which attracts an attentive and appreciative local audience.

The pace is slow here,

and we are serious about encouraging loitering.

Very serious.

(You know, as long as the loiterers aren't juveniles, sleeping in cars, or apparently homeless, and then the neighbors do get restless. But let's not go into this right now.  It's a multi-layered cake.)

The most profound pleasure I get here, though, besides loitering with and without intent, is ambling.  Rambling.  Walking. 

Inviting pathways beckon all around town,

and lead to locations I treasure (click to enlarge)

for diverse reasons.

Many of these walkways slope.  While accommodations have been made in some instances,

not everything cool can be seen from inside a caged ramp, nor are there always rails to lean on or smooth pathways.

(Nor are what ramps exist always passable, but that's another, more universal topic for another day.)

Don't you want to see where a path like this leads? 

And don't you want to be able to get back down on your own power without breaking your neck?

I did, too.  So I learned how, slowly, and kept pushing myself to practice and try harder and harder challenges.  And I want to show you what I learned.

***

This is as good a place as any, I guess, to end part I.  More to follow shortly.  I have to work a couple of shifts over the next couple of days, and Saturday I am picking up a brand spanking new shiny blue tricycle I have ordered.  (Whee!)  And then it will be the weekend, and I'm sure that will involve more canoeing and picnicking.  So it might take me awhile to get to the point, let alone finish the series, but I hope you will bear with me 'til I do.  After all, though you may not know it, you've already waited over two weeks for me just to start.  I shot most of the photos for this series (with obvious exceptions, you know, like that one with the snow in it) during an excursion that took place Wednesday, July 26, which coincidentally happened to be the 16th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act, which I only found out about because of Penny, whose reference to this I only found out about because of Bonnie -- and yes, I want to talk about all that, too.  Oh, and I need to find a different job now because I am really burned out on retail, so much time will be spent on that between now and the posting of the next installment.

So.  Lots to say, but lots and lots to do, too.  I hope you are enjoying this so far, and I thank you for your patience until I can continue.

_____

* Apologies to the Bard.

Comments

[patry]

What a delightful homage to Concord. Oh yes, I could live there.

[Ron Sullivan]

All else aside (and there's lots; dang that looks like an inviting place) I really like that first photo for reasons I can't quite put my finger on. I mean, sure, the two guys on the bench and the posture of the one on the viewer's right, but also the bike and the stroller. And something.

Now I want to see the particulars of how one manages hills on a mechanical leg. I'm a tinkerer at heart, I guess.

[Sara]

Thank you, ladies. More to come, honest.

Thanks for your remarks on that photo, Ron. It's one of my favorites of all the ones I've taken this year. Also, it might amuse you to know that I deliberately cropped it down from a slightly larger slide to include specifically the details you mentioned.

I have a feeling I might get more time to work on this soon. Brilliant Engineer Boyfriend (BEB) has expressed displeasure with regard to the progress of one of his own projects, so I might be "widowed" for awhile tonight. Meanwhile, I had a big nap, so I'll see where it takes me after I ingest some of the General Gau's BEB slayed and brought back from his latest expedition to CompUSA.