Oregon – Day 9

Cannon Beach, Oregon

Another perfect day at Cannon Beach. What do you think because it rained for the majority of the day, it was less than perfect yesterday? Every day and every time we’ve been up on this coast has been a unique experience with memorable moments that would not be traded with being somewhere else or having different weather. We’ve loved this place when it’s cold and windy, drizzling and gray, or warm and sunny. Maybe the fact that we are together next to the water is enough to make everything perfect.

Cannon Beach, Oregon

The patterns of black streaks in the sand and the indentation due to the way water flows around this stump are enough to stop us and have us admire the work of the ocean and light. I also took a photo of a dead sea lion with about a third of its skin missing, a bunch of flesh gone from its face including its eyes, and some white bones protruding from the rotting rear flipper. I’m guessing for most readers, the description was gross enough, and you might be wondering why I took a photo. Because I wanted to get the image so I could study what was there before the smell attacked my nose…and who doesn’t think dead things aren’t interesting?

Cannon Beach, Oregon

That’s Haystack Rock, and while it’s just a giant rock offshore, it helps make this place look even cooler.

Cannon Beach, Oregon

The silvers and blues of this monochromatic ocean and overcast sky create a drama and mood befitting the late fall day on the Oregon coast, where wool is more appropriate than the nylon of a bikini. If hot tea, coffee, or hot chocolate come to mind, and maybe a hot bowl of chowder between walking along the surf sounds good to you, then the Pacific Ocean here in Oregon might be the place for you; it certainly works for us.

Cannon Beach, Oregon

Because it’s just that beautiful. Notice our footprints in the sand? They were the only ones out here this far south on Cannon Beach.

Cannon Beach, Oregon

The weather and the lighting can change dramatically and quickly here during the fall into winter, but what doesn’t change is our feeling for these kinds of landscapes. I shouldn’t forget to mention the incredible sound of the surf rushing in and being dragged right back out.

John Wise and Caroline Wise on Cannon Beach in Oregon

Three layers are all it took to stay comfortable, well that and Caroline stealing my beanie. Good thing I effectively have a chin beanie that keeps the lower half of my face warm. This was our last day out on the coast, and soon after I snapped this photo, we were back on the road to Portland to stay the night. We’d wake early so I could make a special visit to a special place, more about that tomorrow.

Oregon – Day 7

Caroline Wise walking on the Oregon Coast

What a peculiar day. I don’t believe we’ve ever traveled anywhere else where I only shot one photo all day, but apparently, that’s what I did today. Was it raining earlier? Did we sit somewhere and knit and write in a coffee shop, letting the world go by, not concerned with the photo travel trophies? Without notes or other pictures buffering this image of Caroline walking down this lonely beach, I have no idea where we started, where we ended up, what we ate, or what precisely we did. Kind of nice in some way, only having this one photo of a walk along the shore.

Edit: After writing this, I found a bunch of stuff I was writing on those days in Oregon, and the following was how I spent the morning so it would be certain that Caroline was next to me knitting or reading and that we just chilled the entire day. Here it is:

Preoccupation

The problem with preoccupation is that it saps my ability to broaden my scope of thinking. My greatest time with creativity and having a spectrum of thought that delights me is when I’m fully in the moment.

On this trip to Oregon, I compromised the full relaxation element by focusing too much on a recent hobby I acquired: modular synthesis in the form of Eurorack. I knew going into this ten-day sojourn that I’d be stopping in Portland on the way home to “possibly” buy some new modules; in retrospect, I should have done this right away so I wouldn’t spend the next week configuring my purchases.

The problem with this new endeavor is that it is incredibly expensive, so purchases can not be taken lightly. While there is great resale value in used equipment, even selling the stuff takes precious time away from learning the incredible complexity this embodies. Each component plays a specialized role in music synthesis, so some level of familiarity should be had so the builder of such a system has a fairly good idea of how a new piece will influence the whole.

Realizing that you have fallen into this trap a week after you started a vacation is not a great place to find yourself. If I had it to do over again, I would have spent a week before vacation figuring out and planning which modules I wanted so I could have visited the shop at the beginning of the trip and had them sent home, thus clearing my mind of a million synthesizer thoughts.

This has been so consuming that my dreams have been of wires and knobs. Being obsessive has its moments, especially when planning a business or organizing large projects, but on vacation, it is a burden.

I wonder how this affects us in our daily lives. What happens when we are obsessed with being lonely or without someone close? How does this bring stress into someone’s life when they are worried about job security or learning something new and challenging? Maybe we cannot earn enough money to support the basics, and we fret about the fear of an unexpected expense that can derail us. No wonder then that people turn to substance abuse, be it food or drugs, to combat the uncertainty and preoccupation of things we cannot control.

A small example of clearing the mental deck so I can better enjoy myself and, in turn, my wife can better enjoy her time with me: before leaving for a vacation, I wash all the laundry, pay the bills in advance, arrange for someone to water our plants, clear out food that might spoil in our absence, deep clean our place, fill the gas tank in the car so we have one less thing to worry about when we get back and then finally we can take our vacation and be in the moment.

Being in the moment is an essential key to happiness in my worldview. We know this from our visits to the Whitehouse, rafting the Colorado River for three weeks, or rafting the Alsek in Alaska for half a month. On road trips that have taken us across America, we have been free to enjoy the open landscape of Kansas without worrying if we left the stove on or that we’ll have to go home to dirty dishes and unpaid bills.

Well, then, it would seem to me that we must always be aware of the need to “clear the deck.” A list should be kept at hand that allows us to check off things that might derail our intention of having a great time when we venture out of our routines.

Oregon – Day 5

Caroline Wise on the beach in Oregon

Step 1. Walk on the beach, listen to the surf, get lost being mesmerized by the scene.

Carl Washburne State Park on the Oregon Coast

Step 2. Enter a rainforest, listen to the moss, and get lost, mesmerized by how lush it is.

Carl Washburne State Park on the Oregon Coast

Step 3. Walk on a rainforest trail, hear the silence, and find yourself enchanted by the serenity.

Carl Washburne State Park on the Oregon Coast

Step 4. Look for tiny details and examine the light; you will become aware of how profound all of this is.

Newt in Carl Washburne State Park on the Oregon Coast

Step 5. Find other life, examine it; you are just like a newt, except you are probably not toxic like this rough-skinned newt that we should avoid picking up… but come on, they are so cute!

Carl Washburne State Park on the Oregon Coast

Step 6. Look up and let the sun illuminate your path, and be careful of what might lay underfoot.

Mushroom in Carl Washburne State Park on the Oregon Coast

Step 7. Realize you will see things you’ve never seen before, take photos, but leave things as you found them so others who follow can also discover the magical.

Carl Washburne State Park on the Oregon Coast

Step 8. Just because you’ve seen something once doesn’t mean it won’t be just as spectacular on your next encounter.

Snail in Carl Washburne State Park on the Oregon Coast

Step 9. Know when to keep your pace slow; life is not a race you win by reaching the end first.

Oregon Coast

Step 10. Exit the rain forest feeling refreshed, invigorated, and transformed by your encounter with slow.

Gorse on the Oregon Coast

Bonus Step. Stay out of the gorse as it is spiny and will hurt you badly. If you think you want a sample of this beautiful but invasive species, bring scissors because, as a hedgerow plant, it is tough and will defy your feeble attempts to harvest a branch with your bare hands.

11. When all else fails, return to the ocean and admire the spectacular play of light and water.

Oregon – Day 4

Oregon Coast

Toys and Time: Do You Have Enough?

I’m sitting about 100 feet above the Pacific Ocean in Lincoln City on a sunny morning, following a three-mile walk on the beach to get breakfast at the first place we came across. Jay, the owner of Vivian’s Restaurant & BBQ, greeted us, was our server, and a lot more. His place is named after his in-laws, and the guy truly loves his place on Earth. We didn’t talk much about the food, but we did get a lesson in the behaviors and language of the local birds.

An egret that was on the prowl when we arrived makes way for the heron that is dominant along this small lake that feeds the “world’s shortest river,” a.k.a. D River. Jay told us about this pecking order in addition to his observations of the gulls that keep sentry nearby to announce to the rest of the flock in hearing distance that the ducks are being fed. The ducks don’t get much, but what they do get is unbuttered. They don’t butter the toast here because kids can’t help but feed the birds, nor can Jay, and at least this way, the birds aren’t getting the worst of what we can offer them.

Because we had time to sit awhile and listen to the proprietor, we were able to share something that would have never been known about this little corner of the world had we been in a hurry or simply driven to some fast food joint. Time was the precious commodity that gave this experience to us.

Back in our room at the Pelican Shores Inn, I opened up my computer and checked to see how many people commented on the photo we posted as we started our walk up the beach. On my phone, I play with two people who are battling me in Words with Friends. I open a blank document and look for inspiration to start writing. Before finding it, I make the rounds through my current favorite websites, such as KVRaudio, Pinchplant, Synthtopia, the Reaktor user library, and even AnalogueHaven, as I’m always tempting myself to throw another Eurorack module into a shopping cart.

This is my brief dip into a few of the places that satisfy my need to play with toys. While this very computer I’m writing on is a primary tool in my toy box, there are other gadgets and dreams of new hobbies that are yet to drain my wallet.

Just for your knowledge, this computer is not something I do “chores” with – it is essential to my daily fun. Not only do I scour the world for information or keep abreast of what my friends are eating, but I also play. Sitting on my taskbar are tools for making 3D art, sculpting, painting, photo manipulation, creating audio samples, composing music, editing video, and then a couple of things I don’t even know how to use, but someday I’ll open them up, stream in a tutorial and know as little about it as I do some other things, but I’m happy.

So here on vacation, I have the best of all worlds: toys, time, and things to do, such as walks along the ocean and eating. In other words, I’m creating experiences. I’m not watching television; I’m not at the hookah lounge watching TV and smoking; I’m not asking if you’d like fries with that – this is my time, and I’d venture a wager that not enough of us do that.

But now it’s about to become housekeeping time as our visit to this hotel is coming to a close. In a few minutes, we have to check out so my thoughts will have to continue down the road and from another experience.

Lincoln City, Oregon

View from our room. That was the beach we walked to the left on for breakfast and subsequently returned on.

Caroline Wise under the rainbow on the Oregon coast

Someday, I’ll count the number of photos we’ve taken of one or both of us standing under a rainbow, but for now, I’ll just put it out there that it’s probably been thousands. Okay, so I’ll admit right now that this is likely loaded with exaggeration, but that’s the size of the fish, and I’m sticking to it.

Caroline Wise at Toasted Cafe in Depoe Bay, Oregon

In continuing our theme of going slow on this trip, we stopped at Toasted in Depoe Bay for some coffee, knitting, and writing. If you could read the screen, you’d see this next block of text as it was being written:

Caroline’s eating Toe-Jam in the rain while Soft Cell asks Where Has Our Love Gone? That’s our midday on the Oregon coast. I should offer some clarification: we are in a coffee shop out of the rain, and Toe-Jam is this shop’s name for whole-grain bread with apricot jam and feta; the eighties music, sadly, is what it is. This is likely the first time we’ve ever stopped in Depoe Bay for more than staring at the surf that puts on a great display here as a blow-hole shoots water up out of the rocks during certain tidal events.

Today though, is gray, and the sea is relatively calm. We’re not worried about things as the weather is in constant flux and can change every ten minutes.

Her feeding has me feeling like it’s my time to do likewise, and so instead of leaving this to chance, I search for my best options; Sea Hag in Depoe Bay or Local Ocean Seafoods in Newport. The Hag wins for the name, but the fresh fish options down the road look to be the better draw. So I’ll pack up and get going before I ever really got going here in this meager attempt at writing something or other.

Local Ocean Seafoods in Newport, Oregon

Late lunch meets early dinner, or will we throw caution to the wind and overeat? Our first encounter with Local Ocean Seafoods in Newport, Oregon, will not be our last. This dish of whatever it was, must have been yummy because the place impressed both of us.

The view from Local Ocean Seafood in Newport, Oregon

The sky has opened up to let the sunshine through once more in the time it took us to drive from Depoe Bay to Newport and have lunch.

Oregon Coast

This is the rest of the day where the ocean, sun, clouds, birds, sand, and other elements command our attention, and we do little else than offer our obeisance.

Oregon Coast

It was a long walk down the beach to this very short cave and a unique view of the ocean.

Seagull staring me in the eye on the Oregon Coast

Who’s looking at whom?

Seagulls on the Oregon Coast

Just taking it all in and giving things very little thought.

Oregon Coast

The view from our room in Yachats and the end of my brief writing for this day. Sometimes, you just gotta chill.

Oregon – Day 3

Drift wood on the Oregon Coast

Driftwood is a perfect metaphor for a life being well-lived. Take time, lots of time, and grow. Go deep and, with the seasons, allow the inevitable change to take hold. When you are still young and green, you can tower over those around you, grab hold of the infinite sunshine, and absorb as much as you can. Your energy is boundless, your thirst rapacious. Then, at your most confident, another tree eclipses you and is crowding you out. Its leaves are greener and somehow fresher. You never even noticed that it was standing taller than you while you were busy admiring yourself. Then a wind storm comes along, and the roots that kept you grounded have grown weak, and you topple, but you are not gone. There is still a path for your continued contribution. One is that you will be a fertile place for other life to take hold as you nourish their existence and offer shelter to help them along on their journey. The other path will take you from the place you called home and deliver you on an adventure across waterways and seas where, although you turn gray with age, you become an exquisite object of beauty. I am becoming driftwood.

Coastal Oregon

Channels of light, blankets of shade, paths of wind, and bodies of water: this landscape is a mutable canvas. How do we adopt this natural art as mental persuasion which alters our mindscape by shifting the elements and allowing us to glow in a similar beauty such as that which we find in our travels and discoveries? It’s easy to fall in love with the surface of things; it takes time and hard work to understand the deeper intricacies of just what it is that creates such magnificence.

Path to the sea on the Oregon coast

Is the path always straight ahead? Is it mostly clear? Once you reach the other side, is the depth beyond your ability to make instant sense of the situation, or might you already be floating on that which you brought with you in order to be prepared for taking on new challenges? Finding new things in previously unseen places is one of the human rewards where our imagination allows us to discover a wealth of experience that feeds our dreams. On the other hand, it is also quite likely that we never put ourselves in a situation where we must look into the unknown down a path we’d prefer we’d never seen.

Oregon Coast

Moments of reflection are transitional and dependent on perfect circumstances. Dry sand and turbulent water are not conducive to mirroring anything, though both are fun and allow us an amount of carefree play within and upon them. When the water surface is calm or a thin sheen of water washes over the beach, we are presented with a clarity of the reverse image of what is being reflected. For those moments, we see the same world differently. In our minds, we must find the calm waters of existence with an added sheen of knowledge washing over our senses to find ourselves reflected differently than the same old picture that makes up the majority of the time we are present.

Oregon Coast

Rays of golden light and horizons of days to come as experience washes in with the tide. We are present and aware of our changing world in subtle ways unique to each of our perspectives. Just 30 feet below or 100 feet south, the view of reality is vastly different compared to those who might observe the scene from yet another vantage point.

Oregon Coast

Maelstrom and light, calm and darkness, fluid and solid, life and death. These all exist simultaneously in the narrowest slice and in the broadest sense of all that is before me, and yet within, we are encouraged to harness the calm, tame the darkness, and embrace life. Yet we are complex composites of the elements that have created our world, not a tiny subset to be ordered and made tidy. My inner turmoil is as chaotic as the crashing waves; the light used to find my way dims and becomes familiar with being shrouded in bad weather. I am fluid and try to be solid; my life is grand, and death is inevitable. The interplay and dancing of my constituent parts are my landscape, with roots that ebb and flow and yet allow me to take unforeseen paths. After my arrival, I gained perspective where knowledge can be reflected upon others I might encounter on this adventure.