Is This Vacation Or Did We Move?

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Starting the day with an outdoor shower was incredibly invigorating. Our previous experiences with cleaning up in the great outdoors have been in Hawaii, on the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon, on the Alsek River in the Yukon, and in Alaska. This was a two-person operation as I needed Caroline to hold my towel and change of clothes due to the heavy overnight rains that left every surface within arm’s length dripping wet. While I held her stuff, I also managed to nab a couple of discreet photos that allowed modesty to be maintained. If you were wondering if it was cold out, of course it was. The temperature was about 46 degrees (8 Celsius) this morning, but we were not going to miss this opportunity.

We are checking out of our Airstream at Hart’s Camp today as we’ve only booked a couple of nights. Good thing we chose our first night to burn through all of our complimentary wood as it rained for a good part of the night but obviously only intermittently, as I’m sure you saw that amazing steak we barbecued on the grill. The last thing we did here was feed a few of the neighborhood rabbits some apples we had picked back at the beginning of our Oregon adventure when we were staying at Gold Beach.

This is us looking south on the Nestucca River, which is only important for your orientation when I point out that the next photo is us looking north up the Nestucca River. We are still in the Cape Kiwanda area and just on the edge of the Bob Straub State Park. Last year, at nearly the same time of year to the day, we made our first visit to this state park sandwiched between this river and the Pacific Ocean, but back then, we had a perfect sunny day.

As I said, the Nestucca River north, as seen from the other side of the bridge.

I mean, you saw it with your own eyes, north and south; the weather looked grim, but look to the west and its sunny skies. This doesn’t change our decision to skip the park; we’re just getting a look at the ocean from this really tall sand dune.

I believe this is right at the transition where the Nestucca River turns into the Nestucca Bay. Or maybe it’s where depths of forest represented by shades of gray fade into the distance, and we find that the mystery of what is hidden in the fog makes for an intriguing visual story.

It’s well into the afternoon as we enter Garibaldi, passing this old smokestack that used to belong to a lumber mill back in 1927. We took the inland route through Tillamook so we could stop once more at the Blue Heron Cheese Company, sharing a grilled bacon and cheese sandwich. We skipped the ice cream. This being the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and the chaos of COVID, many shops have peculiar hours. One of the yarn stores Caroline wants to visit closes today at 3:00, and we aren’t wasting time to get there besides stopping for this 1 photo.

Okay, so we had to stop for this other photo on Tillamook Bay as the sun’s reflection demanded to be captured.

Seriously, I’d forgotten all about the Three Graces here on the south end of Rockaway Beach. Everybody has to stop for these iconic rocks here near the inlet of Tillamook Bay.

We made it with an hour to spare, meaning we had just enough time to shop for yarn. While I posted a bare-shouldered photo of Caroline earlier, it’s this one that feels naughty. I asked her to pull down her mask while we were the only customers in a shop so I could capture her smile while she was fondling the yarn for one of my next pairs of handmade socks. “One of them,” you ask. I picked two skeins of yarn today. While I seriously DO NOT believe her, my wife is trying to tell me that I’m approaching a dozen skeins already. That’s ridiculous because, at the rate she toils over making me the most perfect socks, it would take nearly 12 days to make me that many socks, and that would be asking way too much. Hmmm, now I can’t remember if it takes about a day to knit my socks or about 40 hours stretched across a month. Well, all I really know is that she needs to get busy because a man can never have too many hand-knitted products. My kingdom for wool squawked the Wise King.

I didn’t share it, but Coastal Yarns in Cannon Beach was our first destination; our second was the beach itself and its big draw, Haystack Rock. The next images may seem absurd to a reader, as one would be right to ask, “Isn’t one enough?” Yeah, well, clearly, you’ve never been to Cannon Beach at sunset, so your question would be misguided. The more appropriate question would be, “Just how many photos did you take before whittling the choice down to less than six? My sad truth is that I might be approaching a total of 400-500 photos of the Haystack shot over the years. If I learned I had twice that, I wouldn’t be surprised.

Thought I mixed things up a bit by looking south beyond that rock just out of view on the right, and I’d stare into the gloom of the stormy shore that was so threatening I was certain we’d be gone in 15 minutes.

The light here doesn’t need to change much to create the next iteration of astonishing. Just after taking this image, the rain picked up, and a bunch of us started heading back up the shore, as that was that. But as Caroline and I were just feet away from leaving the beach, we looked back and realized the rain had stopped, and there was a small break in the clouds. Could there be hope for a sunset?

Lowtide at the Haystack on a stormy fall day. The drama is photographic heaven for a person addicted to hitting the shutter button. By the way, you need not even ask, “Which smartphone do you shoot with?” I am not a cretin; I use an old man’s camera by way of 24 megapixel DSLR. Funny, but 15 years ago, when I got my first DSLR, there were a bunch of old grumpy men at the camera shop (a place where they used to sell lenses and film for analog cameras; that’s a long story I won’t cover here), and those guys were extolling the virtues of their film cameras. I just know that there’s someone out there shooting this exact scene today on his Apple iPhone 12 Pro and will win awards for it while I win the Curmudgeon of the Day trophy.

Who really cares how these scenes are captured? It’s the memories and how long we can hold on to them that’s important. These monoliths sit right next to the Haystack, and I find them as beautiful on their own as the giant on their side.

I’m stopping here and leaving you with this serenely romantic fade to evening.

Almost Did Nothing

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

North of Netarts, Oregon

This is the road through Cape Lookout. On a previous trip, years ago, I was, in fact looking out when I spotted an owl in the trees over the road. It was much like a day like today, but then again, it seems like nearly every time we’ve been up this road, there’s a section in the clouds.

Netarts Bay in Netarts, Oregon

Pulled over to get out of somebody’s way as we plodded along at tourist speed. This is a nice stop we’ve been to before. It affords us the opportunity to look back at the mountains we just drove through. The water next to us is part of Netarts Bay and the home of The Schooner Restaurant, but we won’t be able to visit this year. To the astute, you may have noticed this place is mentioned often here at johnwise.com; well, if you ever had the chance to try their Oyster Rockoyaki and you like oysters in the first place, you’d understand the obsession.

Oceanside Beach in Oceanside, Oregon

The last time we were in Oceanside, the tide was too high for us to feel comfortable for a quick walk in the tunnel that’s at the bottom center of this photo. This rock that juts into the sea stands about 100 feet tall and has a nearly vertical face. But to travel under it, the walk is a mere 30 feet or so to the other side.

Oceanside Beach in Oceanside, Oregon

The tunnel is rough-hewn, and at one point, nearly to the other side, the water got too deep for my hiking boots, but Caroline’s rubber boots that we picked up back on the first days of this peace-of-mind trip took her right through.

Oceanside Beach in Oceanside, Oregon

This was the first day that the wind seemed biting cold on the cheeks, but we were prepared with a wool base layer, fleece, a heavy rain-proof shell, and a beanie. I should point out that having the masks handily about our necks allows for quick pull-up for a bit of Balaklava warmth on the face. It was a short walk back to the car as rain started coming down shortly after snapping this photo.

Oceanside Beach in Oceanside, Oregon

When signs are as entertaining as this, they must be remembered and celebrated even.

View from Cape Mears Lighthouse, Oregon

Simply a lot of love for a forest that will hug the short drive down to our next stop.

View from Cape Mears Lighthouse, Oregon

This is that destination: the Cape Meares Lighthouse. It’s been a while since we were last here, but it was back in 2005 that I took one of my favorite photos of this lighthouse. That image is so deeply seared into our memories that we knew something was wrong with this picture. I don’t really know how we had phone service out here, but we did, and with it, Caroline discovered that back in 2010, two drunk young men thought it was a great idea to empty their guns into an irreplaceable fresnel lens. First, why is it always men? Second, they drove this winding road at night drunk while carrying guns. Why couldn’t they have taken their car off a cliff instead? I know that’s not very polite, but I feel the treasure in this 130-year lighthouse is worth more than their lives and what it cost us in repairs and the price of incarceration after putting them to trial.

View from Cape Mears Lighthouse, Oregon

While this looks like we’re doing stuff and not nothing, it’s actually very little compared to our previous trips when we’d be out at the break of dawn. Today, we hung out in our Airstream, having a late breakfast of scrambled eggs with leftover hamburger from two days ago; you remember the 8-pounder from Newport Cafe? Well, that actually was part of breakfast yesterday too. It was going on 11:00 when we hauled ourselves outside and got in the car to do stuff before falling victim to doing nothing. Now we’re out here, and things are about to get far more interesting.

Defunct road near Cape Mears, Oregon

Back on November 21, 2012, Caroline and I were out on this very road. We’d visited the lighthouse just as we did today, but instead of continuing down the Three Capes Scenic Road to Cape Meares and around to Tillamook, we turned around to return to Cape Lookout, where we were spending the night in a yurt. It turns out that on that day eight years ago a landslide had begun that was producing “bubbling” on the road. By January 17, 2013, the road had shifted 9 feet, and the county moved to close it. It’s been closed since.

Defunct road near Cape Mears, Oregon

We hadn’t been up here to the lighthouse since 2012. On subsequent visits to the coast, we knew there was a road closure up here and that we couldn’t drive through, so we concentrated on seeing other areas in between that had been neglected, such as Pacific City, Netarts, and Oceanside. Seeing that the blocked road was right at the entrance to Cape Meares Lighthouse and there were no signs against trespassing, we decided to walk down a bit to see if we could find where the slide happened.

Defunct road near Cape Mears, Oregon

While the road is decaying and being taken over by forest it wasn’t until we got to this large buckle that we thought we understood the extent of what caused the closure. Thinking there could be more, we continued on our walk. By the way, on this side of the mountain, there were no winds, so our walk was comfortable and dry, too.

Newt on a defunct road near Cape Mears, Oregon

Along the way, we had to be on the lookout for newts, as they now rule the road.

Defunct road near Cape Mears, Oregon

We’d been hoping to stumble upon an overlook that Caroline remembered stopping at on some previous trip, but we couldn’t find it, so we finally turned around. There was a memorial sign next to the road in memory of Walt Gile that had me wondering why that sign was here while all other barriers, signs, and road artifacts had been removed. I walked over to snap a photo so we could look him up at a later date. Approaching the sign, I could see that an overgrown road lay beyond a berm, so we went to investigate.

Shortly before we got to this view, Caroline thought was extremely similar to the one she remembered; there was a seismic sensor embedded in the fading asphalt. That made me a bit nervous as we’d not seen one of these yet. Maybe a dozen or two feet from there, the road took a strange turn up as though it had been lifted. Is this what was meant by a “bubbling” road? There was something peculiar about getting closer to what seemed to be an edge, and that was because, just past this, the land simply dropped straight off.

Defunct road near Cape Mears, Oregon

Wherever this road once went, it no longer goes there. This is no little bit of road buckling or bubbling, the earth just slid away and is now deep below. Now my minor nervousness is compounded by my sense of vertigo, and while it’s irrational to think that just because we’re standing on this unstable land, it could slide while we are on it, I’m still leery, and we take off.

Defunct road near Cape Mears, Oregon

Further research this evening reveals that it looks like a bypass will be built and that fundraising has already begun. Someday, we may once again drive this road, but today, we were able to walk about a mile down the middle of the street without a worry that someone would come racing around the corner and run us over. Instead, we had to worry if racing land might run us over.

Blue Heron Cheese Factory in Tillamook, Oregon

Anyone who’s seen a blog entry from us about the Oregon Coast should have seen this one coming. A turkey, cranberry, and smoked brie sandwich from the Blue Heron Cheese Company is obligatory, even if we do have to eat it outside in our car this time. We also bought three wheels of smoked brie to bring home in our cooler. Something of a coup was the pastry-wrapped wheel of brie with huckleberry that we’ll be baking tomorrow, as one shouldn’t eat too many desserts in one day. For those who don’t know, the Blue Heron is in Tillamook, and if we are in Tillamook, you should be able to guess what comes next.

Tillamook Creamery in Tillamook, Oregon

Socially distanced Tillamook ice cream straight from the factory is what came next. If you are reading this from outside America, Tillamook is famous for its cheddar cheese, but here in town and across Oregon, the factory has an ice cream counter that normally has hundreds of people in line waiting for some fat scoops of flavors such as Marionberry Pie, Mountain Huckleberry, along with tried and true varieties like chocolate and vanilla bean. Today, we tried a scoop of Coffee Almond Fudge.

Caroline Wise at Tillamook Creamery in Tillamook, Oregon

But that wasn’t all, as a Cold Brew Milkshake captured our tastebuds, and before I knew it I was suffering from a wicked ice-cream headache.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at Dutch Bros. in Tillamook, Oregon

Knowing the crash was coming, it was off to where else but Dutch Bros. This selfie turned out so GREAT that it’ll be our holiday cards for this year if we sent out holiday cards. Instead, it’s a grim reminder of what we look like tanked up on smoked brie, ice cream, and soy latte with an extra shot.

Steak from Cattleman's Exchange in Canadian, Texas on the grill at Hart's Camp in Pacific City, Oregon

This steak traveled far to be grilled up here on the Oregon Coast. About a month ago, I received a dry-ice-filled box with six ribeye steaks. Not just any steaks either; these came from the Cattle Exchange in Canadian, Texas. Back on the 4th of July long weekend in 2006, Caroline and I were staying at Arrington Ranch, as seen in the movie Castaway with Tom Hanks when we decided to grab some dinner at a local steak house. We were expecting the worst, as who finds a good steak in some small town?

Cattle Exchange doesn’t do good steak; they make a great steak. So great in fact, that I finally bit the bullet and ordered some online; they weren’t cheap. The first one of six is being had tonight; we are splitting it. We kept this 1.2-pound (half-a-kilo) steak frozen these past two weeks until we could start it thawing yesterday. While I had to grill on it on a cold night in between rain showers, it was yet one more incredible highlight to this amazing day of doing almost nothing.

Moon over Hart's Camp in Pacific City, Oregon

While out grilling dinner, the clouds were breaking up and scattering quickly with the ocean over at Pacific City Beach heard in the distance. Sadly, we are too full, too lazy, too warm, and cozy to go hit the outdoor shower tonight. Hopefully, in the morning, we won’t chicken out from taking a hot shower in the freezing air as we really do need to take advantage of that flower-lined cabin outdoors.

Oregon Road Trip – Day 12

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Moolack Shores Inn in Newport, Oregon

Finding somewhere to start when the obvious is to state that we are leaving the Moolack Shores Inn to continue on our journey north. That sounds mundane, expected even. So I’ll mix things up: We’ll go south instead, even though our next reservation is up north. But there must be a good story to explain the dramatic change in plans, huh? Not really, the nearest Dutch Bros. is down on the south side of Newport, and we have hours to go before we’ll check into our lodging late this afternoon.

Agate Beach in Newport, Oregon

We got off Highway 101 and onto Oceanview Drive so we could walk to Agate Beach just south of Yaquina Head Lighthouse. Prepared for a cold, chilly wind, as that’s what we had last time on this wide stretch of beach, we were surprised by how quickly we had to doff the jackets and enjoy the surprise sunshine. You see, the weather forecast had promised us bad weather, but we had this. Expecting them to be somewhat correct, we figured it would be just a matter of time before the dark gray clouds of some moody weather moved in to dose us with the flavors of Oregon in fall.

Agate Beach in Newport, Oregon

While it’s our inclination to hug the surf, a small stream we had to cross on our way to the beach captured my imagination as to just where it went after we passed it. Approaching the end of the beach, we turned inland and found the stream running up against a forested cliffside, offering its own brand of beautiful scenery,

Agate Beach in Newport, Oregon

The water was running clear with many shallow spots where surges in the current created these ripples in the sand. In other places, the water had carved deep pools around stranded logs, delivered by high tides that pushed the dead trees a couple of hundred feet further inland than where the surf is pounding the shore today.

Armed with coffee and a full tank of gas, we headed north and made our first stop at the Devil’s Punchbowl in Otter Rock. Caroline had the idea that there was a footpath down to the basin, but we couldn’t find any sign of it, and the tide was too high in any case.

Nothing is especially important in this scene besides the blue sky, the great rocks, and the admonition not to go beyond the fence, which would be incredibly foolish, as the cliffside drops precipitously straight down into some jagged rocks and hammering surf. Sometimes, these photos of things overlooked fill in the gaps to make a fuller picture of the details that create a day on vacation.

We didn’t know we wanted ice cream until we saw the other couple enjoying their cones on this sunny day. Funny that famous Mo’s Seafood & Chowder, in their tiniest location here in Otter Rock, would be closed for the season, as who wouldn’t want a nice hot bowl of slumgullion on a cold day? But instead, we have the option for this summery treat.

I don’t think we’ve seen Siletz Bay south of Lincoln City the same way twice. Neither Caroline nor I even know if we’ve stopped at this particular turnout. Depending on the weather and lighting, this place can be a favorite for photographing the tree on the rock, which is often surrounded by water, but not today.

Up the road a bit, we finally stopped at Gallucci’s Pizza after driving by it countless times and stupidly intoning the name Gallucci with an affected, fakey New York Italian accent over and over until we are both laughing. If we had had witnesses in the car, they might have thought we’d lost our minds as we veered into such a goofy parody of Italian Americans. As for the pizza, I wish we had something nice to say about it or that I could say we’re looking forward to a future visit, but it was seriously mediocre. Maybe it’s a great pizza for the area and the people who live here, so I wish them the best of luck, but then again, they’ve been here for years, surviving without us anyway.

Hart's Camp in Pacific City, Oregon

Not much longer after that, we’re pulling into Pacific City looking for Hart’s Camp, where we’re staying for the next couple of nights. Added bonus, the place has dozens of free-range rabbits just wandering around.

Hart's Camp in Pacific City, Oregon

The first thing we check out in our “yard” is our outdoor shower. I’ve got to be honest, as I write this outside by the fire, we can see the exhale of our breath; it’s that cold. Maybe we can shower in the middle of the day, and it won’t be all that chilly?

Hart's Camp in Pacific City, Oregon

Into the Airstream where we will be sleeping. With two televisions, a gas barbecue, an outdoor shower, wifi, and rabbits, we feel like the perfect hipsters on vacation. We even have a Chemex coffee pot that pushes us into an entirely new league of aficionados. The only thing missing is some trendy alcohol.

Hart's Camp in Pacific City, Oregon

If the blanket looks familiar from our stay at Ocean Haven in Yachats, it is. We brought our cozy bedding because who doesn’t sleep better with their own blanket and pillows?

With time to spare, we headed down to the ocean to catch a couple of miles under the setting sun. Needed to burn off some of that pizza and ice cream, too.

Caroline Wise and John Wise in Pacific City, Oregon

Look behind us, and you’ll see a solar halo. No, I’m not making it up. This halo was in the sky for about 15 minutes, opposite the sun. We’ve seen sundogs before, but this might be our first solar halo.

Caroline Wise at sunset in Pacific City, Oregon

This isn’t even the end of our perfect day yet; there’s still more to come.

Caroline Wise in Pacific City, Oregon

From the beach, we were walking back to Hart’s Camp but had to pass the Pelican Brewing Company first. Caroline thought she might like a beer, and we saw that they’d set up a to-go window, so why not go support them? A particular bottle looked interesting in the window, so we pointed to one, and the girl rang it up. With my card out, she tells me $25. Huh? Twenty-five dollars for a bottle of beer? So I asked how much the can was next to it, and she said, “$3.50.”

Lucky us, a guy had walked up who worked there and was doing something to our left. He explained that this was indeed $25 but worth every penny. By now, this beer is famous, and the reason is that it’s a barleywine-style ale malt aged in bourbon barrels. The name of it is the Mother of all Storms, and it was brewed back in 2014.

Hart's Camp in Pacific City, Oregon

With trendy alcohol now on hand, filet mignons on the grill paired with some corona beans, a fire, and our Airstream lodging getting toasty on this cold fall night, we are enjoying life here on day 12 of our annual Oregon road trip.

When Returning Is Not The Same

JWise Photo of the Day, Thoughts, Travels

Right in front of you, the world could have changed, but how would you know? Do you think it will be obvious? At first, everything looks like it’s in its place, and you have no reason to doubt that things are as they should be. Maybe you should go have a closer look.

Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

The anemones are where they should be. They look healthy, pretty even. Maybe you wonder why there are no sea stars here or mussels? Have they ever been here on this beach?

Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

Look ashore; things look dandy over there, even inviting, but this part of the walk has us walking next to the surf. There are clues to something afoot. I took a photo of it and was oblivious to what was in the frame. We kept heading south, walking along on our way as though it was just another day.

Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

We stop to wonder why these blue spots are on a nearby rock exposed by the low tide. It only took a second to deduce that there had been barnacles attached there. We try to figure out why the point of contact would be blue but we never thought for a second that maybe there’d been barnacles living here in greater numbers just recently.

Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

As we strolled along, I noticed a hole in the rock well before Caroline, and even after pointing it out, it took her a while to notice the parallax occurring with the background behind the hole. There it was, right in front of us. We’d walked the length of the beach to get here, and now we could approach it to see what was on the other side.

Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

Our view was of the Yaquina Head Lighthouse. I searched the internet looking for someone else who might have snapped this photo, too, but I came up with nothing. Has no one else seen this yet, or is it simply not compelling enough?

Fossils at Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

A clam fossil looking mighty old embedded in the rock. But how old is it? Is it really a clam, or could it be a Panopea Abrupta, which is an extinct cousin of the geoduck? There are many fossils all around us at the end of the beach, which I should point out is only the end of the beach because the surf is high enough not to allow us to navigate around the cliffside with the hole in it.

Fossils at Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

There are many fragments, but of course, it’s the more intact and recognizable pieces that draw me in. I can look right past the white flecks of broken pieces because I’m going to see what I want to see. But what if those small remnants were part of something really amazing? I can’t know that, as I’m not trained to see that type of detail. It’s kind of like Donald Johanson walking in the desert of Ethiopia when he spots a bone fragment among the rocks and discovers Australopithecus afarensis, better known as Lucy. I’m under no illusion we’ll find something that important, especially because these fossils are said to be about 18 million years old and are from the sea, but the point is, I wouldn’t know what I was looking at even if I was staring right at it.

Fossils at Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

This particular shell is bigger than my hand and makes me wonder why we never see shells this size here onshore. Are there mollusks this size right here in the ocean? Which one of the 85,000 mollusk types is this one? The snarky answer is obvious: it’s a dead one. With a bit of research after we left the beach, it turns out that this might be a member of the Pectinidae family, otherwise known as a scallop.

Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

Then it finally dawns on me after being out here for well over an hour; there’s been a serious landslide here recently. How did I miss this? We’ve been walking along the ocean only 60 feet away, and I didn’t notice this. There are fallen trees in that photo of the cliffside eight photos ago that totally slipped by me. Only on our way back up the coast did I notice them, as I was by then studying all the signs that some land here was slipping towards the sea. Was this due to the recent king tides and heavy rains? Later, I asked at our front desk, but the clerk hadn’t even heard about landslides just down the beach from her.

Fossils at Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

Between taking an inventory of areas that I’m assuming plunged recently, I continued to be momentarily transfixed by so many easily accessible fossils being on display. I started searching my memory of our visit back in 2018 and can only remember the various hues of clay and the sculpted cliffsides that drew my focus into them, but fossils were not part of the landscape. Are these widely scattered signs of the earth’s past only on display because of a recent major disruption in the fabric of the coast?

Fossils at Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

Buried in the sand was a shell that Caroline believed was a recent one that washed in on the current. She grabbed at it only to find it attached to something below the sand; it is now part of rock along with another mollusk shell, keeping its petrified cousin company across the millennia.

Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

This entanglement of seaweed is here not as evidence of earth movement or ocean history but is featured because Caroline is enchanted by these displays of sea spaghetti.

Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

The stuff I was photographing back in 2018 is mostly covered like this. Why shouldn’t the coast be radically different two years after our initial visit to this beach? That our return is not the same as it was should come as no surprise, and in some ways, it’s not, what’s more surprising is that we were just over at the water’s edge and weren’t noticing any of this. While I may not want to mix politics and vacation, I can’t help but think how many people close to a particular conservative persuasion are failing to see a drift to the extreme right when it’s right in front of them.

Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

We see murky bluish water nearby and then walk past this huge rusty cavern of water emerging from a slice in the cliffside. While we can clearly see the rust-colored staining going on, we can’t offer anything else on why it’s happening or where its origins are. We can note it but are lost in interpreting it. I wish we had a geologist with us right now. The damned thing is, we met a guy, also named John, further down the beach, who is a geologist and told us the story about the Astoria Formation that these fossils are located in and that they here are about 18 million years old. Sadly, we couldn’t keep him with us as a guide to interpret every little thing we are seeing.

Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

Sea-bleached wood rubbed smooth after being tossed against cliffs and abraded with sand is turned into art over time. Dragging something back to Arizona, unfortunately, is not possible as the most beautiful pieces probably weigh close to a thousand pounds or more.

Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

Images such as this are similar to what I shot a couple of years ago. I stand in astonishment that clay can rehydrate after being locked away for thousands and possibly millions of years. Don’t quote me on that, but this is my observation, considering where the clay is and where the fossils are. Even when you want to accurately interpret reality, and the information is out there somewhere, it’s not always easy to have much more than an opinion. And opinions are not facts.

Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

We are getting closer to our motel up the cliffside, and it is precisely this view that enamored my senses on our first visit and seemed to be prevalent then. Are there still many other sights like this one down the coast but buried under landslides, or is my memory not particularly accurate?

Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

This is not the work of some Coastal Banksy character who graffitis local cliffsides to trick visitors into thinking their weed has them hallucinating. Now that I’m in my room writing about this, I wonder why we didn’t dig some of this blue clay out of the beach to take home and make something from it. Maybe tomorrow we’ll do some harvesting?

Caroline Wise about to enjoy an 8 pound burger from Newport Cafe in Oregon

There was supposed to be a wildly enthusiastic video of Caroline digging in for the first bite of our 8-pound SUPER ULTIMATE MONSTER BURGER! For my readers outside the United States, this burger weighs in at 3.7kg. This epic creation from Newport Cafe down the road really is as wide as my wife and twice as big as her head. Why is there no video? As I started filming, I was wondering why Caroline’s eyes started twitching, except that was no twitch; she was blinking in Morse code for someone to save her from her idiot husband, who thought it was a good idea to go fetch this $36 thing. So I asked for an enthusiastic smile; instead, her retort was something like this, “You got me to share that ridiculous 4-pound Ultimate Monster back in 2012, then a few years later, in 2015, we did it again. In 2017, I successfully talked you out of the 8-pounder with the concession that we’d share a 4-pound Ultimate Monster; yet again, I thought we were done that time. By 2019, I thought we were making progress when we got the puny 3-pound Monster burger, and now you go and spring this on me? I may like their burgers, but what’s next, a 16-pound Double Ultimate Monster Burger?”

Thanksgiving 2021 holds promise for new culinary adventures, and I can thank my enthusiastic wife for her brilliant ideas and for giving in to my slightly outrageous whims.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

It was get out and walk in the rain or pass out till Wednesday. How much of that 8-pound behemoth did we manage to eat? It looks like finches pecked at it there’s so much left. We’ll try folding some of it into an egg scramble in the morning if we can face it. Okay, maybe I’m lying, as you can probably see in my smile that I ate the whole thing. A lot of walking was needed to shake the lethargy brought on by our crazy indulgence, so enough about gluttony and down the beach we go.

Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

There’s no one else out here, and the tide is on its way up. While there’ll be no sunset in this gray soup of fog and rain, we are still mesmerized by the entire experience. To walk along the ocean is a luxury we cherish.

Moolack Beach in Newport, Oregon

It was a short walk, really, as our path took us north due to our going south in the morning. We reached a stream we were not comfortable crossing, so we turned around to hit the part of the beach we’d trekked earlier. Is anyone interested in buying 6 pounds of leftover burger?

Another Transition in Remote Self-Isolation

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Dawn at Ocean Haven in Yachats, Oregon

We woke before 6:00 a.m. to a dark sky full of stars. Cassiopeia, the Big and Small Dippers, Orion, and others were still on hand for admiration from our cozy lair. Under the blanket, we were fantastically warm, while the room we were taking refuge in was pretty darned cold; we’d left the windows open overnight.

Caroline Wise at Shags Inn at Ocean Haven in Yachats, Oregon

Today, we check out of Ocean Haven by the sea. Typically, we are quick to exit a place and get on with the adventure, but here on our precarious cliffside, this is the adventure. We’ll pack, clean up, and otherwise get ready to leave, but we’re taking this right to 11:00 to enjoy every minute and absorb every detail.

Shags Inn at Ocean Haven in Yachats, Oregon

It’s 7 minutes before we’re supposed to be gone, but I needed to jot down a note and snap a few photos to reinforce the memories of one of the more perfect places we’ve ever had the luxury to enjoy. We leave on a sunny day with a calm blue ocean that stretches as far as the eye can see. We’ll miss this little cabin by the sea and long for the day we might return. Remote Self-Isolation has never been so good.

Shags Inn at Ocean Haven in Yachats, Oregon

There are times on vacation when what was intended on paper is altered by the circumstances of where the reality of the moment takes us. There are other times when I don’t make hard plans at all, as familiarity with a location or the desire for serendipitous experiences rule the day. Then there’s the conflict between the two where something was reserved and is now fixed unless we walk away from the money spent or we’d like to carve time out to do something we just learned of, but we are here on one of the two days that thing is closed. This is one of those times where I wish for flexibility, but the adjustment of things is now impossible. What I’m referring to is our time here at Ocean Haven; if we could cancel the rest of our lodgings and the Shags Nest weren’t booked solid, we’d be quite happy to stay right here.

Rarely have we planted ourselves in a location for an extended period of time and when we have, we had busy schedules that took us into a myriad of activities and sights and kept us running from dawn to sundown. The three days in Gold Beach, followed by the five days here in Yachats, removed us from the stressors arising from surviving in 2020. I’ve had to let go of what I might have done and seized on the opportunity to follow a plan of no plan. For eight days, it didn’t matter what we got done or where we went. Meeting family could have happened on any 1 of 3 days from morning till night; it could have been 30 minutes or 3 hours.

This flexibility has been great as we have not been rushed to accomplish anything at all. Sure, there’s a mild disappointment that the writing exercise I had in mind has not materialized yet, but then again, I feel disconnected from the ongoing insanity of our political and pandemic situation that was pursuing me while in Phoenix. With another full week up here on the coast, I might still get around to that writing, but I’m also prepared for a reality where that doesn’t happen, and I’ll just try to keep dumping whatever comes to mind here on the blog.

Caroline Wise at Bread & Roses Bakery in Yachats, Oregon

Everyone is wearing masks in Oregon. Everywhere we go, nobody is without one. Our first days on the coast we were extremely isolated and didn’t see many people. By now, we’ve seen a good number of Oregonians, and at every corner, masks are ubiquitous. We now keep them around our neck to pull them up quickly when we are in town. People outdoors on trails are masked up; if they are going to pass you walking down the street, they scramble to pull their masks on. Half the shops we’ve been in have a small table with hand sanitizer, while a couple even offer complementary masks. Here at the Bread & Roses Bakery in Yachats, the person at the counter following our transaction offered the two of us a couple of squirts of hand sanitizer, which simply felt polite. Regarding Caroline’s victory pose with a loaf of bread, she’s German, which should tell you everything.

Just before this stop for a pastry and the loaf of “Bremen Bread,” we were getting some fish and scallops to go from the Luna Sea Fish House. This was our second visit, and I’d bet a dollar that next week when we are heading back down the coast, we’ll be eating here once again. I’d like to point out that although it’s relatively cold, we’ve seen more than a few restaurants that come outside to take your order, run back inside to process your payment, and then bring your food out to you. Finally, our old favorites, Dutch Bros., have signs at the drive-thru’s that they’d appreciate customers wearing a mask when they pull up to the window; we’ve not seen the best compliance with that request.

Governor Patterson Memorial State Recreation Site in Waldport, Oregon

While we waited until 11:01 to leave Ocean Haven we still have about 5 hours left before we can check-in at the Moolack Shores Inn that is only 24 miles up the coast north of Newport. So, of course, one of the things we’re going to do is take advantage of one of the supposed last sunny days of this trip and take some long walks on the beach.

Caroline Wise at Governor Patterson Memorial State Recreation Site in Waldport, Oregon

This particular stretch is called the Governor Patterson Memorial State Recreation Site and is in Waldport. It’s November, it’s still in the 40s out here, though it’s warming up fast and Caroline has her shoes off so she can walk in the surf, the very cold surf. We’re at a point where there’s a lot of uncertainty if we’ve been to a particular place on a prior trip; some stand out clear as day, while others have some ambiguity if we’ve visited before. Caroline had a great idea for a project where we collate the other 19 travels here in Oregon into a meta-map that pinpoints everywhere we can verify a stop.

Driftwood Beach State Recreation Site in Seal Rock, Oregon

While the sign isn’t as sexy as a view of the beach or as dramatic as a towering cliffside, these visual guides to trailheads full of warnings and even dog poop bags are seen nearly everywhere. I probably take them for granted these days, though I always try to photograph them as we start a walk so I can better identify our photos once the day comes to an end and I forget where we were.

John Wise and Caroline Wise at Driftwood Beach State Recreation Site in Seal Rock, Oregon

This smartphone photo was taken for Facebook but as I was scouring the other 153 DSLR photos I took today to find the 14 that best represented the day, I realized that I’ve not posted very many selfies on this trip. Photos of the two of us started being shot “selfie-style” about 20 years ago when people didn’t know how to operate our new digital cameras. While I’ve been getting some nice comments on my COVID hair, I’ve been reluctant to take photos of myself as my head looks kind of wild, but we still need photos of the two of us, so here’s this one.

Driftwood Beach State Recreation Site in Seal Rock, Oregon

It’s bright out here and feels hot. While only about 55 degrees (13 Celsius), it’s pretty toasty here in the sun. There are no profound insights to report, no photos of jellyfish as we don’t see any, and the shorebirds are not very abundant.

Caroline Wise at Driftwood Beach State Recreation Site in Seal Rock, Oregon

What I’d give to see the world through her eyes. I don’t even know if colors are perceived the same way I see them. I busy myself looking at the environment for photographic opportunities while Caroline will just stand there and look into the sea. As we walk along the shore, certain colors and shapes of things stand out to her and will inspire her to pick the object up to examine it; what qualities is she looking for? I don’t walk in the surf in November because the water is bone-chilling cold, well, to everyone except her and some kids who seem impervious to such trivialities. The one thing I can easily pick up on from my wife is when she looks at me after an extended session of communing with whatever it was she was staring at and she’s got the look of, “I need a hug!”

Sunset at Boiler Bay State Scenic Viewpoint in Depoe Bay, Oregon

Before we knew it, or about 4 hours after we left Yachats, we were passing through Newport. We kept on going beyond the obligatory Dutch Bros. stop in town; there was nothing else to do here. Briefly, we pulled over to examine some real estate listings in Depoe Bay, but come on, who’s paying $700,000 to $1.3 million for homes up here? With payments starting at $3,000 a month and up, there’s no way many locals earn enough to buy a home, so are all of these bought as rentals by investors? Enough of this futile search for future possibilities.

We are now at Boiler Bay north of Depoe Bay. The ocean is too calm for the fireworks that are often witnessed here as the ocean crashes into the cliffs and throws frothing water high into the sky but that doesn’t diminish the beauty either.

Caroline Wise at Boiler Bay State Scenic Viewpoint in Depoe Bay, Oregon

Speaking of beauty at Boiler Bay. *SIGH*

Moolak Shores north of Newport, Oregon

We are checked in here at the Moolack Shores Inn, our second time staying at this oceanfront little place. It’s very modern, and after the seclusion of the previous week, it feels a bit loud and crowded, but it’s where we are staying for a couple of days before moving further up the coast. This post could have been called “Dawdling 2,” but I don’t want to establish a routine that could influence how we see our next days.

Evening view from Moolack Shores Inn in Newport, Oregon

Note: I’ve not made an effort to share our meals as that is relatively mundane; everyone eats. I might have noted this in a previous post, but our rentals all have kitchens as we’d decided to avoid restaurants and a lot of carryout meals to minimize contact with others. There are exceptions, such as the excellent Luna Sea Fish House, a possible stop at Newport Cafe for a little burger, and we’ve discussed stopping at Gallucci’s Pizzeria in Lincoln City; while we’re not really interested in their pizza, we are fixated on a crazy mock-New York-Italian intonation of the name “Gallucci,” which is enough for us to finally succumb to trying it.

Anyway, back to our meals in this footnote. I made a batch of my homemade granola specifically for this trip. In between, we eat scrambled egg dishes with various Chinese veggies and sometimes leftover whatever is thrown in. Lunch has mostly been sandwiches of ham, peanut butter, egg salad, and even fresh chicken salad. Dinners have included seared scallops, grilled walleye, cajun stuffed pork chops, Kadai paneer (a favorite Indian cheese dish of ours), beans, a chicken stirfry, and a Mexican stirfry. Coming up we have corona beans, broiled filet, grilled bratwurst, pasta, Turducken, and finally, spaghetti squash.

I’d like to say that cooking on vacation has added to the sense of isolation, and I don’t mean that in the pandemic sense we’ve been living with, but the being outside of our typical vacation routine. On holidays, we normally eat nearly every meal at restaurants, which at times is nothing more than an extension of being at home, where we’d eat out more often than not. So, while cooking is a new part of our routine at home, it’s now a new part of our travels, and I feel it really adds to the feeling of being away.

Dawdling

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

I can’t tell you what time it is as time doesn’t matter. Getting going this morning didn’t matter. Where we were going didn’t matter either. What we did know was that we had to go south as tomorrow we go north. But why would going north one day not allow us to travel north on the previous day? Our next lodging location is only about 25 miles north of Ocean Haven, and over the two days we’ll be up there, we’ll need things to explore. So we headed south today.

Having been south yesterday to Carl Washburne State Park, we decided to get past that, and the Heceta Head Lighthouse meets that criteria. For reasons unknown, we weren’t longing to stop at this lighthouse and so further south we ventured.

We didn’t get out of the pullout before I saw my next photo on this moss-covered wall. This is not a site one sees every day unless they live nearby, in which case this is likely a common occurrence, but for me, this is an extraordinary sight that requires a photographic reminder of one of the little details that make so much of this coastal journey so memorable.

Big vistas far into the distance. The beach stretches forever on a blue sky day when no blue sky days were in the forecast, adding to the charm, and we are bowled over. How can we be in a hurry to be somewhere when the place we are passing through demands we stop and gawk at the spectacle?

Like the moss-covered wall at the previous stop, the curve in the road from where we came caught my attention as one of the views that feels so indicative of what’s familiar about this coastal drive, so a photo gets added to the sequence of events.

Still on the northern outskirts of Florence, Oregon, we are about to pass the Happy Kamper Yarn Barn when I spot the open sign and whip into the parking lot. It’s been some years since we last stopped, as it just so happened that on previous visits to the area, it was either a Sunday or Monday, the owner’s days off. Determined to help the local economy the best we can, we leave with five skeins of yarn.

Lunch was courtesy of leftover chicken from last night’s dinner that had been transformed into chicken salad. The coffee is from our coastal coffee favorite, Dutch Bros. The dock was at Gardiner on the Umpqua River. Would you believe it if I told you that the quiet away from the ocean was a welcome soundscape?

Last year, we tried visiting a nature preserve on Bolon Island but couldn’t find it for the life of us. Today, we found the Tide Ways Island Memorial Park, which must have been what we missed back then. The walk is a short one next to a boatyard. There’s a sign near the beginning of the trail that tells of the double-crested cormorants and the guano they leave on the plants in the area that remain until the next rains. We saw a small bit of cormorant poop, but not enough to bag up and drag home as fertilizer for our cacti. Have I ever shared with you that we have something for mushrooms?

Five minutes later we are at the end of the trail. You don’t even get a proper scenic view, but we get to add this to our ever-growing list of places we’ve been on the Oregon Coast.

We’re in Reedsport and stopping in at the Timber Faller’s Daughter shop. Last year, we flew into Portland and drove Interstate 5 south of Eugene to Drain, Oregon, before turning west to head out to the ocean. Just before reaching the 101 highway, we spotted a sign for yarn. Of course, we stopped. But the Driftwood Farms Yarn & Candle Company was closed. That shop is next door to the Timber Faller’s Daughter, and its owner let us know that the woman who owns the shop next door was at a Clam Chowder Festival down the road in Coos Bay. Off we went for chowder and yarn. This year, we are determined to buy something from the lady who helped make last year’s trip just a little more memorable. Carrie, who owns Timber Faller’s Daughter, specializes in crafts and fabric but also has a few yarns, roving, and a nice supply of notions.

Carrie’s friend Paula was also in the shop, socially distanced and masked up, too. I’m happy we hung out a while and barged into their conversation because we learned that Paula has recently taken up dying with lichen and mushrooms. As a matter of fact, she had three bundles of roving she’d recently dyed as her first experiments, two with lichen and one with mushrooms. The wool she used was from Natalie the Jacob sheep and the lighter roving was dyed with Old Man’s Beard lichen, and the darker brown one used Foliate Lichen. The third piece of roving was dyed with Western Red mushrooms that have a pink hue.

I offered to buy her work so Caroline might bring it into something when we get back to Arizona as a more personal memento of a thing deeply connected to the Oregon coast, but Paula insisted that I not pay her a thing. I tried a couple of angles to get her to accept our money as a donation; instead, she suggested I make a donation to the shop, so I handed Carrie the cash. Then, from her kindness, she went and grabbed some other roving dyed with Slippery Jack mushroom, which is a creamy tan color, and tore off a hunk for us. I’ll be posting photos of the roving after we get back home.

Next door is Driftwood Farms Yarn & Candle Company, which Caroline headed over to as we didn’t know when they closed, but we knew that Timber Faller’s Daughter was closing at 3:00, and we were getting close to that. Last year, we grabbed a green skein of yarn which has already become socks, and now we have two new skeins, one destined for socks and the other a scarf. Caroline picked up a skein for herself along with some buttons and a yummy dark chocolate bar with black fig. Seeing it was only about 3:15, we realized that we still had time to get down the road for a lighthouse tour but we’d have to move fast as they stop at 4:00.

Umpqua Lighthouse is an all-time favorite destination on the coast. Why this lighthouse stands out is likely due to its amazing light signal that features one red beam and two white beams before the cycle repeats. More about that shortly. We arrived on time, and the guy in the gift shop, who wasn’t sure if anyone was available to give us a tour, quickly found the person who was happy to do that for us. So off we went into history.

This was our second tour of the lighthouse, though I cannot find the blog entry that details the first visit. Our memories tell us it was back on one of the trips my mother-in-law Jutta was visiting, but who can be certain? In any case, this feels like the first time we’ve ever been here. Tom, our guide this afternoon, is knowledgeable and enthusiastic, qualities that are perfect for us, especially when this ended up being a private tour for just Caroline and me.

The history of this fresnel lens is worth the price of entry alone. The French company F. Barbier made it in Paris in 1890. This large 1st-order lens was one of only a small handful they made in the company’s history; today, it is priceless. We learned that the red light, filtered through the red glass, which was made this way using a process involving gold, has to be supplemented by surrounding pieces of red glass to compensate for the 30% loss of light that occurs due to the red filter. The signature of the light is one red beam and two white beams that are 4 seconds apart and continuously repeat as the fresnel is spun around the light source; the sequence is a total of 15 seconds. What makes this a 1st Order lens is its massive size that can focus its light out about 20 miles to sea.

Standing on the stairs and looking directly up in the lens is like poking your consciousness into another dimension. It’s certainly from another age, as it’s highly doubtful that these complex lenses will ever be built again. Nor will new lighthouses dot the landscape as GPS and electronic beacons have mostly replaced these iconic structures. Even this lighthouse might not be around forever as it’s corroding, leaving one to wonder if the local municipality that now manages it will have the kind of money that could be required should major structural renovation become necessary.

Getting so close to evening, we decided to hang out a bit longer so we could see the lighthouse working its magic, but first, a bit of sunset.

Just around the corner, we’ve stayed at the Umpqua Lighthouse State Park a number of times, in the yurts specifically. On those visits, we come out here multiple times per night to enjoy the silent symphony of light that gracefully floats on the trees surrounding the lighthouse. You can’t imagine how peaceful and simultaneously festive the red and white light spinning slowly on the forest is. In the distance is the sound of the ocean, but up here, more often than not, we have been alone to enjoy this 128-year-old fixture. Tonight, though, we’ll be heading back up the road to our place along the ocean and will have to dream about lighthouses.