We left our yurt at Umpqua Lighthouse State Park late this morning. Late for us anyway, as it was after 8:00. We might have been earlier had it not been for the sound of rain lulling us into wanting to stay snuggled in the warm luxury of our bed. A small heater has kept most of the cold at bay, and both electrical outlets were utilized to keep our stuff charged and my CPAP running. There is no toilet or shower in our yurt that sleeps five. There’s no mirror in here either, and due to the time of year, the window coverings are lowered in order to help insulate the place from the cold.
When we are finally forced to get up due to the demands of bladders that can take no more, we reluctantly peel out from underneath our down comforter. While we may sleep in what some will consider primitive conditions, our bedding consists of a Pendleton blanket on a cheap futon topped with a sheet, our pillows, and a down comforter inside a favorite duvet cover, which all adds up to luxury to our senses which are well experienced in the joys of coziness. The unheated shower and toilet facilities are across the way and have to be gotten to this morning in the near-freezing rain. Life is great.
We found breakfast nirvana on the Oregon coast, and it’s to be found at the Little Brown Hen Cafe in Florence. Never have we been so impressed with the first meal of the day here on this edge of the Pacific Northwest. While Portland certainly has its trendy joints across the city, the rest of the state can be a bit of a food desert. My Dungeness crab omelet topped with avocado paired with some amazing crispy real hash browns (meaning not the usual factory-made, bland Sysco type) was great, and Caroline’s avocado toast was so awesome that we knew we’d have to come back down the coast tomorrow for another breakfast right here. As we finished, Caroline, quite out of character, ordered a dessert for her meal, really pushing the boundaries of decadence. The brown rice pudding was too compelling to pass her by and was every bit as good as one might fantasize about.
It was forecast to rain the majority of the day yesterday, but somehow, we were spared. It was supposed to rain the majority of today and it did. Not only did it rain, but it snowed here on the coast, too. At first, we had some hints of how cold the rain was getting, as I noticed ice in some of the raindrops as they hit the windshield. We had to dip into Fred Meyers for a couple of things, and when we returned to the car, it seemed like it was getting colder. With more signs of ice, we sat mesmerized by how they struck the wet window, so we sat awhile watching a kind of liquid fireworks exploding on impact.
With the wet weather not relenting, we decided to explore the cultural side of the Oregon coast with a visit to a local museum. Our destination was the Siuslaw Pioneer Museum, which is housed in the old Florence schoolhouse. While we took refuge from the rain, we saw snow flurries blow through, only to be long gone before they sat on the ground even a split second. If it hadn’t been accompanied by driving rain, it might have been fun to go out into it, but a cold 37-degree rain with a strong wind was playing a large part in why we were in the museum, so frolicking in the snow was out of the question.
Turns out that the local museum is a treasure of history from the immediate area with a terrific focus on life in Florence from the late 19th century through about the 1940s.
Prior to us leaving for Oregon, a friend of ours brought up that he and his significant other are considering visiting Florence, Oregon, next year in recognition of the 50th anniversary of the exploding whale. Well, it just so happens that the museum here features a number of vertebrae from that whale that nearly killed people in this small town on the Oregon Coast. The story goes that a big, stinking dead carcass of a whale had been fouling the fine coastal aromas of the local seaside, and it had been decided to do something about the body. A wallop of explosives blew the thing into chunks, but some of them were so big that a nearby car was totaled in the mayhem as onlookers scrambled to find safety from the raining rotting blubber and meat that filled the sky. I’m sure that just like with the JFK assassination, people in the future will ask, “Where were you on the 50th anniversary of the exploding whale?” Hopefully, Caroline and I will be able to answer, “We were there, and it was like our generation’s Woodstock!”
This driftwood framed sculpture is a sight to see, with hundreds of pieces fitted together just so. Most of them are out of frame, but I wanted to share some details in order to capture the organic feeling and great coloring of a piece of art made of found objects right out of the person’s environment that made this and another smaller work on display here.
An old unnamed loom is currently being worked by volunteers who come in to demo the art of weaving. As one might imagine from a museum focusing on the time frame, it is there are plenty of examples of items used to care for lives before the age of mass global production. To think that we used to have to make our own clothes and socks, find a neighbor who could repair shoes, play an instrument for music to be heard in our homes, and books so we could practice our literacy. Now, with all of our free time, we enjoy as work has been reduced to only 40 hours a week and the burden of things like acquiring food, transportation, and entertainment has been solved; it would appear that instead of gathering greater knowledge, we are content doing nothing of any real import.
Back in the old days, people had friends who’d fawn over their bold fashion statements, and maybe that person would be the talk of the town as people spoke of the daring young lady who bought a fancy hat. How will future generations look back at our current time capture in a museum how somebody, making duck lips with clown makeup on with a camera held just so overhead so as not to capture any drooping facial features, posed in front of a place and generated the adoration of 100’s of thousands of followers and for a moment became famous to a bunch of other anonymous people?
The man who built this bit of handicraft did so in his home over the course of a number of years. This represents an entire lumber mill in great detail and lucky us that the museum accepted his generous donation. We are reluctant to leave the museum as the snow continues with flurries here and there, but we need to get up the road.
On the drive up past Heceta Head, we encountered snow on the sides of the road. It isn’t all that much higher in elevation but obviously, it’s enough that the snow stuck around. It’s not even 4:00 p.m. at this point so I’m a bit nervous just how much colder it’s going to get and how low this snowline will go.
Then, if the snow wasn’t enough when we arrived at our yurt at Carl G. Washburne State Park, we opened the door to find that there was no electricity to our unit. The camp host walks up after another minute carrying a lantern with him that he hands off to us, telling us that a nearby power line is down, cutting electricity to the entire camp, but it should be repaired tonight.
Well, now, do we take our chances and stay or grab a hotel room? We’re wondering this as not only will it be in the very low 30s tonight, but without electricity, my CPAP will be rendered useless. The decision is to wait until after dinner up the road in Yachats and decide things then. Before dinner, though, we need a coffee, so without many choices, we stop at a diner to camp out at a table to knit, write, and sip coffee. We’re not there 10 minutes before I get a text from my little sister up in Seattle telling us to be careful regarding the “Bomb Cyclone.” Great, one-hundred-miles per-hour winds are expected on the Oregon Coast down to Northern California.
While it took a while to learn the boundaries of this rapidly forming surprise storm, it only made things more interesting regarding our options. If we chose to return to the yurt and see how things played out, we might need to get in the car in the wee hours for a drive north or south. Both directions would suck as the north would take us out around Cape Perpetua while on the southern route, we’d be back out on Heceta Head. Either way would put us deep in trees and close to some cliffsides. Turns out that the storm is only supposed to affect Oregon up to about Coos Bay, where we were yesterday. Inland, the southern part of the state, is supposed to see some heavy snow, but we should be good up here.
Finally ready for some dinner, we visited Luna Sea Fish House, also here in Yachats, for a bowl of steamers and an order of fish and chips made from halibut. Learning that they open at 10:30 in the morning has me reconsidering whether we’ll return to Little Brown Hen or opt for more crispy, deep-fried fish and garlicky clams. We skipped dessert as we reversed the order of things by having a hot cinnamon roll with our coffee at the diner; we were on vacation, after all.
Back at the yurt, the electricity was on, the rain was still falling but the winds were being held back with the forest calm and cold on this late fall day. Tomorrow, the weather might be cloudy, but the rain is supposed to subside. It’s 9:15 p.m., and our eyes are falling shut.
