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Outer Cape Cod in Spring

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Fortunately, Art's Dune Tours is going to do all the work for us. Art's staff has been leading tours of the Province Lands--those wild, far-flung dunes extending from Mount Ararat west to Race Point--for more than 60 years. We hoist ourselves into a "sand buggy" the size of a whale and head off with Kenny, our 70-year-old driver, who yells out, "It's gonna be very rough--watch out for your heads!" right before he shifts into a lower gear and we buck our way up a sand dune.

Gunning for the hills, we skid past cranberry bogs and lovely weathered dune shacks that once housed the likes of Eugene O'Neill and Jackson Pollack. Dunes rise and fall like great waves, and we're bumping over a landscape that's sensual and serene. It's a stunning, otherworldly trip, worth every jaw-rattling bump and slide.

Having glimpsed Provincetown's tower--Pilgrim Monument--from the dune hinterlands, we decide to coil our way up the town's most famous symbol, P'town's own version of Pisa's Leaning Tower, built to celebrate the Pilgrims' first landing (yes, before Plymouth). At the top we marvel, once again, at how blissfully uncrowded it is up here on the wraparound deck.

That night, windblown and mellow, we revive at The Mews, a hip-but-not-intimidating restaurant that's hopping with locals and a few visitors. Our table looks out over darkening water, and on this moonless night, lights glitter from passing boats and around the curving bend of the harbor.

The next day, we leave on a high note. First, a walk on the Beech Forest Trail. From the moment we hit the boardwalk, it's like entering an enchanted forest: birdsong so loud you'd swear it was recorded; fat, weaving bumblebees; jittery red and gray squirrels leaping overhead like superheroes. Buds, red and yellow, explode around us; a gorgeous, sandy path winds around shimmering kettle ponds. Chickadees dive everywhere, so I hold out my hand and one lands in my palm!

It almost can't be topped. Almost. We slip onto the Dolphin Fleet Whale Watch's Dolphin VIII with our guide, Dr. Carole Carlson, who can identify these creatures in the water by name, like old friends. The boat pulls out of the harbor, past the breakwater, past Long Point Light, and out into the waters of Cape Cod Bay. The boat is comfortably only half full (another off-season perk), letting us scan the water side to side, alert to every wave and bubble. Nothing--just sun and water. It's like a moment from Jaws, stiff with anticipation.

And then, suddenly, they rise, taking our breath away. Humpbacks surround us, two bobbing alongside the boat, diving under us and surfacing on the other side. Off in the distance, right whales (an endangered species) spout. Dr. Carlson is spotting whales all over the place, and we're like schoolkids, running from one side of the boat to the other to catch sight of the flashing flukes.

It's a glorious way to end the weekend. Like so many before us, we've come to celebrate wind and water, golden light on dunes, and dry grasses curving like waves over sand. But we've done it ahead of the summer crowd, when the Outer Cape is at its most tender, just emerging from a long winter's sleep. Glory be, it feels as if we've thrown open the shutters, too, and let the sun come pouring in.