The Pilgrims Monument in Provincetown. We came, we saw, we climbed.

And climbed. And climbed. And climbed….

 

Photo of my husband wondering why we don’t take relaxing vacations on the beach like normal people.

 

Completed in 1910 to commemorate the Pilgrim’s fist landing in Provincetown on November 21, 1620…. the tower is 252 tall and rises 350 feet above sea level.

(Those are Christmas lights radiating down from the top, not support wires. Because hey, if your monument is held up by wires? Even I’m not climbing it.)

 

                  No alcohol allowed? They really know how to kill a girl’s spirit.

 

This is the tallest all granite structure in the United States, and every single massive piece of stone came from my beautiful state of Maine.

 

 

Stairs?

There were a few…

 

 

But thankfully there were ramps as well.

 

 

And on the day we visited?

 

 

It was so cold, windy and damp, the walls were sweating.

We climbed what seemed like forever…. and still had a long way to go.

 

 

But there were windows along the way which we opened to peak out.

 

 

At which point the wind practically knocked us down.

 

 

Granted, looking down was a little nerve wracking.

 

 

Good thing my vertigo didn’t kick in, I’d still be there.

 

 

Onward and ever upward… we neared the top.

 

 

Run my *ss.

 

 

Gimme a few more years and I’ll be crawling.

 

 

A few more flights….

 

 

Yay!

The top…

 

 

Where it was raining….

 

 

And blowing a friggin’ gale force.

 

 

Time for a quick wild haired selfie…

 

 

And a walk around the less windy sides with P’town spread out below…

 

 

 

A farewell to the gargoyles.

 

 

And we headed back down to collect my sticker.

I’d earned it!