Shortly after our moonlit walk on the beach last night, the weather turned. As the evening went on, things became worse, tormenting our plans for sleep. A bright flash of lightning startled both of us awake somewhere in the middle of dreams, followed by a near-instantaneous clap of monumental thunder. Then it started to rain as though buckets were being tossed on the exterior of the yurt. With the rain picking up, the wind joined in the chorus until buckets were replaced by barrels of water; this was not the serenade that would lull us back to sleep. Eventually, nature’s concert exited the stage, and before we knew it, it was time for us to leave the yurt. A shower is finally on tap. With the hair degreased and the funk defunked we packed the car and followed last night’s footsteps back to the ocean. A hole in the sky had opened, offering a respite and a peek at blue, but it was changing fast. We are in a state of oohs-and-aahs; seafoam is blowing up the shore, and a strong, constant wind works nature’s art exhibit here on the edge of the Pacific. In the distance, the shortest rainbow I’ve ever seen is on the horizon, letting us know the rain is coming our way. It catches us before we reach the car.
Breakfast was an event worthy of making note of here on my blog: we returned to the Newport Cafe! It was a pricey start to the day, but it was indulgent, too, if you love seafood. Caroline ordered the “Hang Town Fry” – fresh Yaquina Bay oysters (a whole lot of them) grilled with spinach and onions before being mixed into a heap of scrambled eggs served next to a mountain of red potatoes and toast. Her breakfast is huge and “good and plenty” – especially the baby aliens (oysters). My breakfast was the “Pacific Seafood Scramble” – crab, shrimp, and scallops with fresh veggies and scrambled eggs topped with cheddar. By the time we are finished with our morning feast, the sun is lifting a layer of steam off the street, with the sky opening fast. This photo was taken north of Newport at The Lookout at Cape Foulweather, a nice little gift shop with one of the best views ever.
The next photos will attest to how beautiful our day would turn out to be, but they do not portray the whole truth. Over our shoulders and off in the not-too-distant horizon, big heavy clouds remained a near-constant presence. Who needs to look at that stuff and worry about what it may bring when right before us is all the incredible we could possibly need?
The sea remains ferocious from the effects of the storm that has been churning up the coast. We content ourselves sitting at various pullouts along the coast, watching and listening to the waves come crashing in. Each massive explosion of surf produces a little rush of excitement as the chaos unfolds right before us.
In the distance, the sea looks calm, but by the time those deceptive waters reach the shore, the fury that the storm has produced is unleashed along the Oregon coast. We stand here in awe watching the display that is a far cry from the staid scenery of cactus standing vigil over the desert landscape in which we spend the majority of our time. Let’s celebrate nature’s diversity with fireworks from the ocean!
A change of perspective and the sun rising in the sky is all that is required to throw new light upon what a minute ago seemed to become as familiar as the back of my hand. The ocean turns into molten metal, and we melt before its beauty.
There is more to see at the sea than just one stretch of ocean, so we move further up the coast. These grass-covered sand dunes are an absolute favorite of mine here in Oregon. They create mystery for what lies on the other side; I never know if I should expect a party or a rogue wave to crest the hilltop as we approach the trail down to the beach. I shot a dozen more such images, but where do I draw the line with sharing too much of a theme?
No killer waves, no party either, just one other person as far as the eye can see. During the fall and winter, there are very few people out here. Tomorrow, that will be different. It’s Thanksgiving, and people, for some reason feel that is a good reason to venture onto the beach, but on the days around the holiday, we are often the only ones out here. Of course, we love the solitude, but all the same, we wonder how the beauty of this place doesn’t draw others by the thousands.
Whalen Road crossing Sand Lake at the Clay Myers State Natural Area at Whalen Island is one of our favorite views along the coast. You have to leave Highway 101 heading towards Cape Kiwanda and Cape Lookout instead of driving directly to Tillamook for your cheese and ice cream fix, but the detour is well worth the drive. Not only is the Whalen Island area beautiful, but the entire Three Capes coastal drive is a stellar attraction here on the Oregon coast. We could easily spend a week just exploring Cape Kiwanda up to Cape Meares, with stops in Tillamook for salmon jerky at Debbie D’s Sausage Factory and smoked brie over at the Blue Heron French Cheese Company.
A view of Netarts Bay with our ever-present shadow of clouds moving right along with us. So what that we can’t strip off a layer of clothes and go swimming, and who cares if we won’t be tanning out here under those gray clouds? It’s still a sight to see. Sometimes, I can’t help but think that the majority of people on Earth are so well-conditioned that they can look at scenery such as this and not see what’s really right before their faces. I’ll bet if a popular TV show were filmed at this location or some movie had a pivotal scene play out here, there would be a whole new interest in coming out here and all of a sudden being one of those who “Have always loved Netarts Bay, my family used to come here every year when I was a kid. Of course, I’ve been here before.”
That last photo was Netarts Bay from below; this one is from above. The perspective is kind of wonky, and I’ve certainly failed the rule of thirds, but I couldn’t help but be intrigued at how the curves of the coast and strange angles of the trees skewed this image. Now imagine you are out on the bay in your small boat; it’s summer, and after a day of sailing on the bay, you pull up to the shore for a barbecue.
Road number 131, also known as the Netarts Oceanside Highway, becomes the Cape Meares Loop in the town of Oceanside. This is another one of those places that, while we are passing through, makes us think, “Someday, we’ll have to stay here.” Up the road a little more and a turn-off leads through the Cape Meares State Park over to the Cape Meares Lighthouse. I don’t know anymore how many times we’ve been out here and we’re still not bored visiting it. Matter of fact I think I have a very similar photo already on my blog. (Sure do, from May 2005, click here to see it)
There’s not a lot of daylight left out here, so we’ll take our time to enjoy it, who cares if we get into Tillamook in the dark when we have views like this? We are on the trail from the lighthouse, leading back to the parking lot. For those of you who have been out here, you know exactly which one I’m talking about; it goes uphill, and doesn’t it always seem to be that it is the last trail of the day when you least want to climb up hills? Oh, how I’d like to live right here.
Last photo of the day before we head into town to grab some smoked brie, salmon jerky, and a beer for Caroline. We have to backtrack to Cape Lookout, where we are staying in another yurt. In all the dampness, I still managed to get a fire going and fought hard to keep it alive. We were out here to camp, and camping ain’t that without a fire. Tonight, we dine like royalty on French bread with brie while listening to the crackle of the fire. What a charming day.