On The Trail

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Yurt at Cape Lookout State Park in Oregon

Disclaimer: This post is one of those that ended up being written years after the experience was had. While there was a paragraph or two posted way back then with a single photo, there were no other notes taken, so most of what is shared here must be extracted from the images and what memories they may have lent us.

Packed up and cleaned out, we are leaving our yurt at the Cape Lookout State Park just the way we found it when we checked in two days ago. While you may not be able to see it for yourself, this is the most luxurious of all lodgings we consistently return to; nothing is better or more romantic in our view.

View from Cape Lookout in Oregon

Move with the first light of day; you might, on occasion, stumble into sights that will stay with you for a lifetime. They become special due to their rarity as after some time, you’ll recognize that most of the sights are yours alone as people cherish laziness and the warmth of their bed more than the luxury that the new day offers those looking for it.

Caroline Wise and John Wise

Guess who’s out here with us? That’s right, Mr. Sunlight is here and will hopefully start warming our cheeks.

Cape Lookout trail in Oregon

Nope, no fog that way, nor anyone else.

Cape Lookout trail in Oregon

Well, there is this woodpecker out on the trail with us, and while it certainly is known to make noise, it’s somehow more appealing than the chatter that might come from those who enjoy speaking loudly in quiet places.

Cape Lookout trail in Oregon

The light said, “Come into me, and I will deliver you to a place of eternal perfection,” and so we went, and there we were.

Cape Lookout trail in Oregon

Once we’d had enough of perfection, we moved on to this view that was adequate. Sorry about the snark; it was perfect.

Cape Lookout trail in Oregon

Could this get any better? Yes, that part is in the next photo.

Caroline Wise and John Wise with Ann on the Cape Lookout trail in Oregon

Meet Ann; we did, on the Cape Lookout Trail that we’ve been hiking this morning. This nice lady is a mere 70 years old and was hiking briskly along all by herself. She told us how she has hiked nearly every trail between Ft. Stevens and Cape Lookout and over 30 miles of trail in Forest Park, Portland. Not one to be fearful, Ann shared her stories of venturing into Africa and New Zealand on her own, too. Her husband passed away some years ago, but she did not let that slow her down. It is always inspiring to meet such a determined spirit who is charging into life instead of passively watching it slip by. We were honored to meet her at the end of the trail, where Caroline, Ann, and I chatted for a while, listening and looking for whales.

Cape Lookout trail in Oregon

Intermittent terror walked with me on some of these trails where some flimsy bushes were all that stood between me and death should I somehow be thrust off the trail or misstep and catapult myself a few feet into the air and off the side. Yep, certain death at every corner.

Cape Lookout trail in Oregon

What happened to the rest of the day? There’s no telling as without notes detailing what we might have done; we only have these visual fragments that cannot tell the full story.

Though the images easily convey the fact that we experienced the day under glorious skies and must certainly have had a great time, had the day delivered otherwise, the photographic proof would have shown the derailing of perfection.

Spending the night down there on the left near Devils Lake in Lincoln City, another night in a yurt, and for only about $30, it’s the greatest deal in all of America.

Whalen Island, Oregon

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Near Munson Creek Falls near Pleasant Valley, Oregon

Disclaimer: This post is one of those that ended up being written years after the experience was had. While there was a paragraph or two posted way back then with a single photo, there were no other notes taken, so most of what is shared here must be extracted from the images and what memories they may have lent us.

Moss is the perfect accompaniment to a slow, lazy day where being on a chill plan of just taking things as they come is in order. On one of our excursions up or down the coastal highway, Caroline spotted something of interest, and without the promise of dramatic blue skies over a silvery ocean, we decided to head inland for a change.

Near Munson Creek Falls near Pleasant Valley, Oregon

This narrow road leads us to the Munson Creek Falls State Natural Site. I’m guessing you can figure out what that includes.

Caroline Wise on trail at Munson Creek Falls near Pleasant Valley, Oregon

It includes a Caroline wrapped up in her playfully brightly colored thick beanie and scarf. Well, that’s it for the day; we can go get dinner and return to our yurt to listen to more ocean rolling in onto the shore.

On trail at Munson Creek Falls near Pleasant Valley, Oregon

As though there was no doubt about our season of celebration, we are here at our favorite time of year, fall.

On trail at Munson Creek Falls near Pleasant Valley, Oregon

This is Munson Creek and not the falls.

On trail at Munson Creek Falls near Pleasant Valley, Oregon

More of Munson Creek. If you are wondering about the namesake of the park we are in, the weather wasn’t cooperating to offer me the photo I’d be good with sharing, so you’ll just have to visit this area near Pleasant Valley, Oregon, and see the falls for yourself.

On trail at Munson Creek Falls near Pleasant Valley, Oregon

There was plenty of damp forest and small mushrooms to keep our interest along the short 1/2-mile trail.

On trail at Munson Creek Falls near Pleasant Valley, Oregon

We’re talking about some very small mushrooms and as you can see from the glistening fern fronds, light misting rain that all worked together to create mystery and wishes for even greater quiet in the November solitude.

Near Tillamook, Oregon

The approach of mid-day left us feeling like it was eternal morning.

Tillamook, Oregon

It’s lunchtime when we start moving into the town of Tillamook looking for food, but why consider our options when we know the only possibility is another luxury stop at the Blue Heron French Cheese Company? We picked up a couple of apples at a roadside stand selling fruits and veggies, and before we left Tillamook, we made a stop at Rainy Day Books (now closed), where a recommendation has us leaving with The Long Walk by Slawomir Rawicz describing his escape from Siberia.

Nestucca Bay Yarns in Lincoln City, Oregon

We took a long, slow drive south to Lincoln City so Caroline could get some yarn shopping in at Nestucca Bay Yarns (now closed); scratch this wish list item off the list of things to do.

Clay Myers State Natural Area at Whalen Island, Oregon

As the day winds down, we are driving back up north for another night at Cape Lookout. Reaching the Clay Myers State Natural Area and Whalen Island, we were offered a dramatic sky that hints at it being the best we’ll see of a sunset on this relaxed, almost languid day on the Oregon Coast.

Near Cape Lookout south of Netarts, Oregon

No more owls were spotted overhead, maybe because the fog was too thick.

Near Cape Lookout south of Netarts, Oregon

There may not be a lot to see, but what we do glean is maybe even more enchanting than on a sunny day, which is more common during our visits this far from home than these densely foggy ones.

Cape Lookout south of Netarts, Oregon

Outside the front door of our yurt on the inky dark coastline, we got a fire going to make our dinner. If we had a hot chocolate from Dutch Bros. while we sat there warming by the embers, I can no longer remember, but I’d like to believe we did.

Nehalem Spit

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Disclaimer: This post is one of those that ended up being written years after the experience was had. While there was a paragraph or two posted way back then with a single photo, there were no other notes taken, so most of what is shared here must be extracted from the images and what memories they may have lent us.

Early Monday morning, we left our yurt at Nehalem State Park in Oregon for a walk south on the Nehalem Spit.

While I can’t hear it at this time, I just know that these crashing waves were offering their part of the symphony we listen to while strolling the ocean at the water’s edge.

Tree stumps are an invasive species here at the edge of the ocean. Without eradication, they’ll quickly populate the beach and grow a forest, so remember to always report to the local authorities when you spot these intruders.

Emerging from the depths, this jellyfish was plotting the takeover of the human race that is poisoning its beautiful sea.

No, seriously, how cold are you?

Surfer riding a wave into the outlet of the Nehalem River near Brighton, Oregon

Our five-mile trek took us to the mouth of the Nehalem River to find this surfer riding the waves where the river meets the ocean. In the relatively narrow channel, the lone surfer waited patiently, and on a few occasions, while we acted as his unseen audience, he would catch a wave that would propel him far up the channel for a ride that seemed to last a couple of minutes.

As stoked as he must have been, so were we at the solitude and beauty of the ocean-side walk. We spent nearly half of our day here.

Another key part of the orchestra and amazing visuals on offer when tuned to channel Oregon Coast in the Fall.

What was the average direction the wind blew overnight? That way, to the right.

If movie theaters in Arizona offered us high-definition live streams of coastal scenes from the more beautiful locations on earth, we’d grab some popcorn and purchase tickets for a double-feature at least once a week.

Leaving a beach is always difficult for Caroline and often requires her to stop a moment for one last look back at what we are leaving behind.

After some serious time spent walking along the coast today, it was time for a good long drive. We’re passing through Rockaway Beach just doing some sightseeing.

We made it as far as Siletz Bay near Lincoln City, Oregon, before turning around as our lodging is back up north.

Blue Heron Cheese Company in Tillamook is always great for a bite to eat, not just for us either.

On Bayocean Road next to Tillamook Bay, we are taking the scenic route to this evening’s lodging.

That spit of land in the middle of the photo is the site of the town of Bayocean, which is long gone. A hotel, bowling alley, and even a 1,000-seat movie theater were out there. By 1960, the last house was destroyed by a storm, and by 1971, the last remnant of a building was scrubbed from the place that was once home to 2,000 inhabitants.

There’s a lighthouse right out here, but for some reason or other, I apparently forgot to take a photo of it, or we didn’t take the walk.

This is part of the trail to the lighthouse, so why there were no photos just doesn’t make any sense.

The view over Short Beach, south of the Cape Meares Lighthouse, that if you squint hard you might see the tiny speck on the furthest outcropping way out there.

It was only a couple of miles between Short Beach and Oceanside, but we moved at what must have been a nearly imperceptible speed.

Look closely, and you’ll notice the clouds below the sun are the same clouds from the photo above. I’m pointing this out as people frequently comment on how beautiful our photos are, and this, I think, exemplifies the importance of changing your perspective and taking more photos than you can ever use, so you have some favorites to choose from.

Three Arch Rocks National Wildlife Refuge in Oceanside, Oregon, means we are returning to the north so we can check in at the state park before the sun fully disappears for the night.

Hawk-eye John spotted this barred owl perched on a branch in the shadowy forest just over the road. I was certain that as I reversed and pulled over for a better look, he’d fly off, but there he was, seemingly staring as intently at us as we were at him.

Cape Lookout State Park south of Tillamook is the place we’ll be taking up a yurt for another night or two as with this kind of sunset and surroundings, who wouldn’t want to linger just a bit longer?

Fort Stevens to Nehalem, Oregon

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Fort Stevens State Park in Warrenton, Oregon

Disclaimer: This post is one of those that ended up being written years after the experience was had. While there was a paragraph or two posted way back then with a single photo, there were no other notes taken, so most of what is shared here must be extracted from the images and what memories they may have lent us.

Sunrise at Fort Stevens State Park on the coast of Oregon is exactly what one would be expected to take advantage of after waking in a yurt that is within walking distance of the shore.

Fort Stevens State Park in Warrenton, Oregon

We were on a short walk before meeting up with the friends we had dinner with last night.

Fort Stevens State Park in Warrenton, Oregon

The wreck of the Peter Iredale that’s been out here rusting away for the past 102 years.

Kirk Millhollin and John Wise at Fort Stevens State Park in Warrenton, Oregon

Here’s Captain Kirk hamming it up for the camera. thought he’d be cute, but unfortunately for me, I snapped the photo a moment too soon. Just as he approached to give the appearance he was going to lay one on me, I turned my head and gave him a full-on-mouth kiss – with tongue. Yeah, who’s laughing now, Mr. Millhollin?

Update in April 2021: Sadly, Kirk and I had a total fallout back in the middle of 2017 due to circumstances that were complicated due to my wishful thinking and (in large part) my inability to simply deal with funding issues with the company I was running at the time and that Kirk moved to Arizona to be a part of. I don’t believe there can ever be a resolution beyond where we are today, which is totally 100% non-contact. After knowing the guy for 22 years, I often wonder how he’s doing regardless of the circumstances around our parting.

Fort Stevens State Park in Warrenton, Oregon

Kirk had wanted to take us out to a small area spit of land on the Jetty Trail near Point Adams, where at other times of the year, he’d found an abundance of mushrooms, the special kind of magic ones that authorities frown upon harvesting.

This amanita muscaria or fly agaric is not one of the ones I was referring to although some claim that they too have mystical properties.

Fort Stevens State Park in Warrenton, Oregon

Kirk, Rachel, and the kids needed to head back early to Portland, so Caroline and I returned to our yurt to get a bite to eat and pack up our stuff. Though we weren’t going far.

Fort Stevens State Park in Warrenton, Oregon

We are still at Fort Stevens, except instead of the Pacific Ocean side, we are over on the Columbia River. The ruin is part of an old series of military batteries built over one hundred years ago to defend the Columbia River’s mouth.

Fort Stevens State Park in Warrenton, Oregon

The rusty and crumbling fortified hulks are just the aesthetic I’m in love with.

Fort Stevens State Park in Warrenton, Oregon

It turns out that there’s a guided tour that takes visitors into the underground structures; sadly, we didn’t get to participate in that as we weren’t aware of those tours at the time we were visiting.

Fort Stevens State Park in Warrenton, Oregon

Some people go for jewelry and nice clothes; I go for textures and patterns found out and about.

Fort Stevens State Park in Warrenton, Oregon

Near Swash Lake and Jetty Lagoon, just wandering around.

Fort Stevens State Park in Warrenton, Oregon

While I believe we are somewhere out on the Clatsop Spit and that we are looking at the Columbia River, I could easily be wrong, but we are in the general vicinity of that area.

Astoria, Oregon

A late lunch in Astoria across from the Pilot House Luxury Suite that we’ll never want to afford, though secretly we’d love to.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at Cannon Beach, Oregon

What happened to the time between lunch and this late afternoon is lost in memories that cannot be found, but that’s of no real matter because here we are, smiling and happy at Cannon Beach, Oregon.

[I have some faint memories that our friends didn’t actually leave but hung out with us a bit more. We definitely ended up buying a big bag of saltwater taffy in Seaside – Caroline]

Sunset at Cannon Beach, Oregon

Add to the other thousands of memories we have of sunsets along the coast, or is it millions by now?

John Wise at Cannon Beach, Oregon

Yep, it’s so cold out here at the end of the day that even I needed a beanie to keep my ears warm. Did I tell you that Caroline spun and knit this work of love for me?

Sunset at Cannon Beach, Oregon

The iconic Haystack of Cannon Beach at sunset, what could be better than a walk here, even on a chilly late fall day?

We’ll be sleeping in a yurt again this evening down south of Manzanita, Oregon, at Nehalem Bay State Park.

Day in Portland

JWise Moments, Travels

Up early and on the road south to Portland to meet up with Kirk and Rachel. I’m not really here. It is as though I am still in slow-wave sleep, one of the deepest stages of sleep. Or maybe I am in sleep inertia, the state just after being woken from a deep sleep when mental performance is yet impaired. In any case, I feel as though I’m drifting out of Washington and into Portland without plan, reason, or cause, and from the looks of the multitude of homeless people in downtown Portland, they, too, are hereby mysterious circumstances.

How about lunch? Sure, you guys name it; I don’t know this part of town. Hell, I don’t know any part of this town, nor do I know why I agreed to come here. I want to be at the ocean. I have gone on vacation to get away from it all, and now I’m in the middle of it all. How about this place? Yeah, give me a fork. I might at other times feel that my distance could be interpreted as rude detachment, but I’m working at convincing myself that I am moving into the abyss of old age and hope that those around me can accept and understand why so little of me is presently here and thus allow me to feel better about my funk.

Kirk and I were in competition for who could visit the buffet more times than the other. It was a draw, not that this meal would weigh too heavily upon us, as most of the dishes were vegetarian. Finished with our feast and being in the Pacific Northwest there is an unspoken demand that you stop every 20 minutes for coffee, else why the crazy proliferation of coffee shops? Rachel recommended a shop around the corner for the four of us to imbibe some hot black liquid energy. Wicked strong and well suited to take the pallor off an otherwise gray day.

Our mobile larder needed stocking, so shopping at something akin to Whole Foods was on order; we were delivered to New Seasons in the Seven Corners area of Portland. With plans to do some serious vegetarian cooking over an open fire, I piled the veggies into our shopping cart. Fortuitous this stop proved to be as we had bought a block of Beecher’s Flagship cheese that we fell in love with and would be surprised later in the trip upon visiting Pike’s Place in Seattle to stumble into their factory.

Our tour of Portland took us to Washington Park, which sits next to the much larger Forest Park. My spirits perk up; I am near nature. Vacation must be close at hand; the imagination is awakening. Not long after our encounter with the natural world, plans are made to return for some hiking in these parks with Kirk and Rachel. In minutes, we are delivered back to our dash animations and soon find ourselves gliding silently out of Portland on our way to the Pacific Ocean. We agreed to meet Kirk and Rachel for dinner in Astoria before our day’s journey ends in Ft. Stevens State Park, where a yurt awaits us.

A little Italian place is chosen where we have the chance to meet Rachel’s children, Cassidy and Ian. Ian made a great impression by first being listless, lethargic, and generally grumpy due to a cold or allergies until after dinner when, with great aplomb, he hurled what little dinner he had eaten upon the sidewalk. Kirk, not having a dog-pooh picker-upper bag with him, had to abandon the cheesy pile for the next dog to walk by – you just know a dog wouldn’t be able to help itself to that little midnight snack.

I felt for Rachel this evening; not only did she have to comfort her barfing boy, but earlier in the day, she voiced concern for her daughter Cassidy, who, as she described it, “is getting a little too hormonal.” It must be tough on a mother to think her kid is about to go succubus. Caroline and I failed to pick up this side of her daughter’s precocious nature as we were preoccupied with wolfing down dinner so we could make our way to the coziness of our yurt. We actually thought both children were pleasantly well-behaved. Kirk, Rachel, and the kids took off for their nearby hotel; we retired to our yurt, falling asleep to the sound of the ocean in the distance.

Note: I, too, wonder why there were no photos from this day, not even bad ones.

Go North and Relax

JWise Travels

A toilet-frozen solid required our airline to bring us another plane so we could leave for Seattle, Washington, this evening. Better late than never, we thought, and in shorts and a light shirt arrived at the Seattle/Tacoma airport shortly before midnight. Cold air welcomed us, leaving no doubt that we had left the warm comfort zone of the desert.

At the Dollar Rental Car desk, we are given the electronic door opener/fob for a car but no key. Oh, that IS the key, I’m informed. “You have been upgraded to a Prius. Do you know how to drive one?” Oh, come on, I’ve been driving for, think, count out on fingers, um, like about almost 30 years. “Well, let me show you a few things…” Fine. You place the door/fob thing in this hole in the dash and then push the Start button. Everything lights up, but the engine doesn’t start – oh yeah it’s a hybrid – it doesn’t need to. To put the car in gear, there is a shifter on the dashboard; push left and up for reverse and left and down for drive, gotcha.

What he should have warned me about was the engine/battery usage animation on the small screen in the middle of the dashboard. I’d like to know how many accidents have been had by people spending too much time watching the engine engage and the little tires turning round and round instead of the road. South of the airport, we check in to our motel to get six hours of sleep.

Note: I, too, wonder why there were no photos from this day, not even bad ones.