Hawaii – Day 3

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Taking our time may be contrary to our natures, but we’ve been to Hawaii before and so we are committed to this visit to go slow. Six years ago, we couldn’t be blamed for thinking our time on the islands might be our first and last, and so we rushed to see as much as we could. We’re certainly older but probably no wiser (besides being Wise), still, we have to try and make the most of our limited resource of time and immerse ourselves as deeply as possible so our memories might form deep roots.

Caroline and I are in some ways like the water lilies in this photo or would like to be. Meaning that while we find beauty on the surface and can explore delight in the watery garden floating on still-glistening water, our connection to even a muddy foundation is held fast. And though our roots are immovable regarding who we are in our essence, we are like the bloom standing tall over the water below, catching a breeze that has us waving in the wind so we may see more of the world we live in and upon.

If we never moved, how could we be here to encounter flowers such as this? The non-sentient plant will send out its seed, and with favorable conditions and a vast enough space across time, it might spread its species to faraway corners. That plant, though, will never know where its descendants ultimately ended up. We humans, on the other hand, are sentient beings that briefly have a near-total awareness of our place, and with our ability to recollect our past, we can choose to live a life full of experiences that define something more than mere existence at the moment. We, too, will never know where our descendants may go, but we can know where we have been and what we’ve learned.

This doesn’t require us to go to Hawaii to gather these lessons, but it does mean we have to look closer at the world around us. Not everyone is as fortunate as Caroline and I or maybe as curious either; this, though, doesn’t inhibit people from at least becoming aware of a lack of curiosity and then cultivating it. Slow down, read about things you know nothing about such as the history of Alexander von Humboldt or the ocean crossings of Thor Heyerdahl. These are only examples of something you may not yet have heard about, but these people and what they found played important roles in our perspectives of how people have come to relate to our Earth. The same goes for others who ventured out on unsure footings either on the surface of our planet or in the depths of their mind. Just because there’s nothing below you but a thin leaf of support doesn’t mean that the view of the world from above is nothing less than spectacular. First, you must take the risk of exploring areas and things you never knew existed.

We are exploring the Waimea Valley Botanical Garden and we’re taking our time to do it. The Waimea Valley here on the North Shore of O’ahu is what is known as an ahupua‘a. That somewhat difficult word to pronounce for non-Hawaiians is a pie-like slice of land that stretches from the interior of the island to shore and was considered to have everything required for a group of Hawaiians to properly live and thrive. In the highlands were medicinal plants and the woods required for dwellings and watercraft. Below that is farmland for bananas, taro, breadfruit, sweet potato, and coconut. At the sea, an abundance of fish was readily available for the early Polynesians who discovered the islands to enjoy their island paradise. Today, the Waimea Valley is 1,875 acres of land, of which the botanical garden occupies 300 acres. Within this corner of the island, there are over 5,000 tropical and subtropical plants. We plan to see each and every one of them.

On our second visit to the biome known as a tropical forest, we became more familiar with one of the major habitats we humans have populated. To date, Caroline and I have visited six of the eight major biomes, and although we were close to a boreal forest while we were in Quebec last year, we have yet to visit one; the same goes for the tundra. The list of habitats is as follows: tundra, taiga (also called boreal forest), temperate deciduous forest (Eastern United States), scrub forest (called chaparral in California), grassland (the Great Plains), desert (we live in one of the major desert types of which there are four), tropical rain forest (right here on Hawaii), and temperate rainforests such as the ones we visit in Oregon and Washington.

Champagne beehive ginger, just the name, makes you want to sample it. Maybe the gift shop has some beehive ginger candy? Nope, other than an infrequent food item and some alleged medicinal use there’s not much the plant offers at this time other than it’s beautiful. Hmmm, when I think about it this way, it’s much like the majority of life, and I guess that’s good enough.

You know you always wanted to go to Heliconia and back. You can’t, though, because Heliconia isn’t a place, and it’s not found in Arizona either. This tropical plant is also known as lobster-claw, toucan peak, wild plantains, or false bird-of-paradise. The white seeds in the claw are not ripe yet; when they are, they will turn a dark blue-purple, which drives the birds wild; well, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but it sure sounds dramatic.

This is a picture of a tropical donkel. Yes, you read that right, part donkey, part camel. You’ll notice the large protruding hump on its back, which is unique to the female of the species. Darwin once speculated that the male of the species is too lazy to carry his own shit and that, somehow, it convinced the female to adapt and evolve this permanent growth on its back where the male could store the things he couldn’t be bothered to carry. The two enjoy a symbiotic relationship where the ass and donkel are able to move through the environment with everything needed for survival carried by the docile female.

I’m not even going to try and tell you what this is because I have no idea, but it looked amazing.

It’s already a lucky day just being on O’ahu, but here we are getting to see the endangered Hawaiian Moorhen, also called `alae `ula in Hawaiian. Not only is it endangered and rare, but the bird is typically quite secretive and will dash for cover at any disturbance. There are an estimated 250 to 450 of the birds left and we had this opportunity to see one with our very own eyes. So, while anybody could have watched the North Shore surfing competition live or on TV at some point, few will ever be witness to this bird’s existence.

Anybody who has talked with me will know that I just have to go where I’m going next. Look at the beauty of this flower and how the contrast of it standing out against the green background makes it all the more striking. Now imagine the people who once populated these islands being priced out of their lands because wealthier folks drive them out. The Hawaiian islanders were like this flower against a green backdrop; they stood out and were free to be wherever they popped up and found themselves on their ancestral lands. Revisionist histories of warlike people with a rich tradition of the warrior are, in my opinion, a bullshit cockamamie romanticized story that is used by conquering douche-bags to justify why the savages had to be contained. It is us white people who wanted control and wealth in addition to purging the earth of species and peoples that were considered inferior. Now, we know that we took their lands by sleight of hand, but even with this knowledge, there is no way in heaven that the 50th state of America will be allowed to return to its sovereign roots. I’d like to say that at least Native Americans were given reservations, but for the most part, we isolated them on lands we felt near worthless with little to harvest, mine, or steal from to build our own wealth; our ancestors kept that for themselves. In some way, this flower and the bird above have more rights and freedoms than the average indigenous Hawaiian. Paradise loses some of its luster should you look too deeply because, under the surface, you’ll often find muck.

The traditional dwellings in Waimea Valley are mostly not accessible by the general public, but a few can be visited such as this one. The valley here is a sacred site to Hawaiians where many high-ranking people would have lived and where religious ceremonies were practiced. At one time, the area was referred to as the Valley of the Priests. Prior to the protection of the area, the valley was owned by a land developer who was also responsible for the Kahala Hilton, which today is known as Kahala Resort and will cost you an arm and a leg to stay at.

This may forever be my favorite canopy photo I’ll have ever taken. The fractal nature of the trees and near-even distribution of leaves with just enough branches to paint the appearance of arteries stretching to the sky to harvest the nutrient of sunshine delights my eyes and brings back fond memories of amazement.

There’s much to learn and an equal amount to see here at Waimea Valley Botanical Garden. Time and hunger are pushing us towards the exit, but visiting has been a treat. We are well aware that being next to a pool, on a beach, or being seen in the coolest watering hole or a trendy restaurant means more to the average visitor to Hawaii, but we are not those kinds of visitors. Sadly it is the image of the buffoon tourist and their conformist ideas of what a vacation is that drives a larger amount of money into an economy. Caroline and I can only hope that places like this continue to draw in enough people to maintain their upkeep and pay staff so wildlands remain available. The places of history should always be cherished shrines where humanity strives to preserve our heritage so future generations can also celebrate those who have come before them.

I shot 132 images here in Waimea Valley and have shared just 15. There were another half dozen I would have liked posting, but already, this is a lot of plants and none of the images one has come to expect from a visit to Hawaii. As we are leaving I look over at this curious-looking bird and wonder what it’s thinking and then realize maybe it’s just listening for the movement of insects so it can grab a meal, like we are about to do.

Fortunately for us, we don’t have to put an ear to the asphalt and try to pull a bug out of crack to satisfy our hunger. Instead, we spot a food truck called Nakai Saimin and decide it has our flavor of gourmet written all over it. Their claim to fame on their sign is “Fresh Homemade Noodles,” and so that’s what Caroline opts for; I went for the Loco Moco. For whose dish was better, I think it was hands down mine. Loco Moco is a relatively simple dish of a hamburger patty on white rice topped with an egg and brown gravy, but like so many “simple” dishes, it is the totality of the parts that create a chemistry that goes far beyond the average ingredients. This was the GREATEST Loco Moco I’ve ever had and the standard for which all that will follow will have to compare to. Caroline is enjoying some fresh coconut next to our Jeep. We’d have preferred something with better gas mileage, but it seems the tourists feel more adventurous driving these foolish things.

Liquid metal glistening in the late day sun. We have no schedule and no other places to visit; we will meander for the rest of the afternoon and see what we find. Oh, is that the call of Poseidon, or is it the voice of shave ice I hear beckoning us? Sure enough, the universe was transmitting signals to Caroline and me that we should revisit the Old Sugar Mill and order a lilikoi shave ice sitting on a scoop of vanilla ice cream with a splash of coconut milk on top. While I’ve never been harpooned by an angry sea god, I can state with some certainty that gluttony accentuated with Hawaiian shave ice is likely preferable.

At a beach, a small crowd had formed, looking like the Hawaiian version of the animal spotting groups in Yellowstone. Sure enough, they were watching a few sea turtles in the surf next to shore delivering a message from Poseidon, who told those present that disrespecting the all-powerful sea god would result in a heavy price to pay. The turtles whispered to us they could intercede on our behalf if we were to throw them some sugary yummies, and so instead of facing the wrath of His Holy Water Monster, we gave up the rest of our shave ice to the turtles. By now, I’m starting to wonder if those Heliconia berries we ate earlier were some kind of psychedelic. Okay, full stop. Do you really think we fed those turtles our shave ice? Hell no, we didn’t care how dire those turtles made it sound.

The sky started turning overcast around the time that daylight was about to give way to sunset, so we headed back to the hotel in a light rain and were offered a rainbow in place of a glorious sunset; it would have to do. Remember my dissing of people who do the tourist gig and lay on the beach in the sun, go to the pool, and hang out at the bar? Well, we went back to our room, changed clothes, and hit the hot tub before heading out for dinner again at the Kahuku Grill for some more Fire in Paradise burgers. A fulfilling John-and-Caroline kind of touristy day was had.

The day ends with me writing the notes that would become this blog entry while Caroline sits on the balcony in a light breeze, reading about Hawaiian history and knitting.

Hawaii – Day 2

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Somewhere on the north shore of Oahu, Hawaii

One cannot know the big picture if that is all they see. One has merely seen the surface of things. For a large swath of our population, this is adequate and satisfies their need to have seen something. Here I am in Hawaii, and indeed, the view is beautiful, but so too is the Oregon coast I was on last month. There is so much more to this place than warm breezes, tepid waters, and waving palm fronds. Even in strong, cold winds, dark, icy waters, and howling evergreens, there is immense beauty in the minutiae of details aside from a bit of discomfort. While in the luxury of Hawaii, it would be easy to only see perfection, but in the tiniest of details, there is something waiting to be found.

An abandoned crab shell found on the shore on Oahu, Hawaii

And there it is a tiny abandoned crab shell perched perfectly on the rocks as though the crab stepped away from it just a minute ago. That’s right, not only will this trip be about palms and beaches, though they certainly play a central role, it will also be about finding the unseen. Here in the open and in some respects obviously apparent is the work of the internal engine that helps power our Earth, and then again, it’s hidden behind the luxury of a tropical paradise. These islands are relatively new land areas where there is no ancient fossil record. Back when our continents were being torn apart and scattered around the globe, Hawaii was yet to rise out of the sea. The oldest landmasses in the area are said to be about 65 million years old, while Oahu, where we are today, is a mere 2.95 million years old.

Mukuleia Beach State Park on Oahu, Hawaii

Back then, early humans were just diverging from our non-human ancestors, and it would take 99.5% of the time from then till now before people crossing through Siberia passed into North America. That was approximately 12,000 years ago, or about 10,000 years before Polynesians would set sail into the middle of the Pacific Ocean and start to populate the Hawaiian Islands. For millions of years, these islands had never seen humans, and now, less than 2000 years later, we are responsible for incalculable damage to the environment and the life that took up residence prior to our arrival. I don’t mean to suggest the Polynesians played a heavy role in that disruption, nor the Hawaiians that were their descendants; it was modern man that brought invasive plants and animals.

Random beach on the north shore of Oahu, Hawaii

Maybe this is another beach, or maybe it’s the same one in the photo above. No matter what, we were here and deemed the view to be of such extraordinary beauty that we needed a photo to capture the moment in order to remind us of just what the ocean looked like during the moments we walked its shore. A shore that offers hints of a perfection nature is able to muster. But just into the sea, we can find a dearth of whales and an abundance of plastic, which is evidence just out of our view that cannot be immediately seen, but it is known. For centuries, we explored our world we traveled with the purpose of better understanding the planet. Now, we passively observe our environment with little to no thought about our origins, direction, or impact. The Polynesians who arrived on these waves struck out on a vast ocean with hopes of finding somewhere to land before being taken by the ocean; they traveled with dreams and purpose. Today, we travel for laziness and call it a vacation.

Caroline Wise on the north shore of Oahu, Hawaii

Notice how the blue in her eyes and shirt complements the color of the ocean? Would you be freaked out if I told you her blood was the same color? Well, I’d be more than a little alarmed because that would mean I married a horseshoe crab, and while Caroline has been known to be crabby, she’s certainly far from being a crustacean, not to say she hasn’t been crusty from time to time. I better quit.

Banana's in the wild on Oahu, Hawaii

Hmmm, I can’t remember if we saw bananas growing in the wild on our previous visit to Hawaii, so I’ll just go ahead and exclaim my wonder at seeing bananas on the tree growing right there in front of us like one might imagine bananas would do. We did see pineapples on our previous visit and mangoes too, but hey, these are bananas! And bananas remind me of breakfast this morning, where we sat on our balcony on the fourth floor (room #402 as a note for our memories) and ate local oranges and our favorite apple bananas. Okay, now I’m hungry

We headed east looking for lunch but were snagged by indulgence and instead opted to drop in on Haleiwa Bowls, which was serving up Acai that, up until this point, neither Caroline nor I had tried. It was a perfect introduction to Acai, and we will certainly return should they still be there during a future visit. The only problem with splitting this “Mana” bowl of dessert was that we were still hungry for a proper meal, but that wasn’t too big a problem because not far away was the Beet Box Cafe.

This vegetarian cafe is actually in the back of the Celestial Grocery, so when we were done with our Big Healthy Plate and Three Little Birds, we were able to pick up more bananas.

More romantic beach but this one is enhanced with rainbow on Oaha, Hawaii

A beach enhanced with a rainbow makes for even more romantic experiences. The only thing missing is breaching whales. Please don’t read into my musings that we need rainbows for greater romantic effect or breaching whales, for that matter. Just last month, we were in Oregon, and with occasional gray skies and intermittent rain, we still had a wondrously terrific vacation full of all the romance and love anyone could ever hope for. Heck, on day one of that adventure, we were even graced with a double rainbow; click here to see how beautiful it was.

The rest of our day was spent shopping and basking in the beauty of the world around us. Our first stop after lunch and rainbows was at the Waialua Sugar Mill, where we enhanced our ability to stay awake with some coffee. Next up was a sampling of their Waialua Estate semisweet cocoa nib bar, which put us in the mood to go deeper into the tastes of Hawaii. And what is more Hawaiian than lilikoi also known as passion fruit? Ooh, that passion fruit honey is great; let’s get some, and what about that passion fruit curd?

God rays over Oahu, Hawaii

If rainbows weren’t enough, we were offered God Rays to extend the romance of our first full day here in Oahu, Hawaii. Here I am going on about that thing related to love again; you couldn’t be blamed for being under the impression that Caroline and I revel under the umbrella of things that inspire astonishment and awe. But then you might ask, “Well, just what are those things?” It is everything that comes remotely close to putting smiles on our faces.

Sunset at Turtle Bay on Oahu, Hawaii

Dinner was courtesy of Kahuku Superette and their famous Shoyu Poke, accompanied by the sounds of helicopters and airplanes as the arrival of President Obama was being prepared for just 30 miles south of us. Maybe we’ll run into him and his family while we’re up here, and we can buy them shave ice?

From great to amazing to spectacular, the smiles on our faces grew larger and larger with every passing moment of our wintry visit to Hawaii. As the sun began to set, we took an oceanside walk, marveled at the clouds racing by, and after it was dark, we were afforded the opportunity to catch a few shooting stars from the Geminids meteor shower that happens to be going on right now. Just another ordinary day in an extraordinary life. If you can find a better day, live it.

Hawaii – Day 1

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Eastern shore of Oahu, Hawaii

O’ahu, Hawaii. We landed before lunch with an appetite and knew exactly where we were going. First up, though, we had to get our rental car and make our way through Honolulu. This is like driving through an outdoor Forums Shops at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas. If you’ve come to Hawaii to shop, this is certainly the place to do that. This hustle and bustle are not for us; we are heading off the beaten path. Away from the glitz, we were looking for Da Ono Hawaiian Food, a joint of a restaurant. Nothing fancy here, but the food is said to be amazing. In just a few minutes, we are squeezed into a small table, and the menu is dropped in front of us. We drool at the options and decide to share a pork lau lau (steamed pork in taro leaves), kalua pork (pork roast in Hawaiian yumminess), butterfish (not exactly what you might think), and some purple yam. If only we could come back one more time before the end of our stay on O’ahu!

Time for us to put even more distance between us and the tourist rat race as we head for the hills. During our visit to the islands back in 2006, we only afforded O’ahu a few hours stopover after hearing that serious travelers and Honolulu are incompatible. We had circumnavigated the southern end of the island, passing through Diamond Head and making our way about halfway up before cutting over Highway 83 to return to the airport for our flight to the Big Island. Today, we are traveling in the opposite direction and will drive north after reaching the eastern shore. The photo above is our first stop at the water’s edge. No tourists, no shops, nothing but a picnic table and some trees up against the ocean. On that trip half a dozen years ago we ended our vacation in a similar manner compared to how we are starting today. Back then, our last stop was on Kauai at Poipu Beach at a picnic table under the trees, where we had breakfast and bid Hawaii adieu. Today, we are full of aloha to be so fortunate to have returned.

The view from our room at Turtle Bay Resort on the North Shore of Oahu, Hawaii

Last year, at the Interactive Sites Christmas party, the place Caroline works, she was the grand prize winner of the big giveaway. That prize was for five days to be spent at Turtle Bay Resort on the north shore of Oahu, Hawaii. Guess where we are? A big warm MAHALO to Mike and Paul for sending us here; they are the bosses, and their generosity is super appreciated.

Caroline Wise standing on the north shore at Turtle Bay Resort on Oahu, Hawaii

Checked in and ecstatic, we head to the beach. Lava rock and sand, yep, we are in Hawaii. The water is crystal clear and beautiful, but the sun is disappearing fast. The long days of summer have passed, though we aren’t complaining; we wouldn’t know how as we are so high on the fact that we are here standing at the ocean’s edge on the north shore. Along our walk, we spot snails, crabs, small fish, anemones, sea cucumbers, broken corals, small peculiar-looking plants that look like ears, some small birds, and not one other person. For this sunset the day after Caroline’s 45th birthday that fell on 12-12-12, we are together with this stretch of beach all to ourselves. What a great gift and day it is.

We weren’t quite done yet, though. No, we didn’t dine at a fine restaurant at the resort, no candlelit meal for us in view of the sea. In keeping with our take-it-easy approach to things, we wanted local funk, and that’s what we got. Down the road we’d come upon earlier, we had passed Kahuku Grill, now known as Seven Brothers in Kahuku at The Mill, and that is where we were going back to. Not that our decision was that easy. We looked around for some local grindz (Hawaiian for grub), but pickings were slim, so we just kept on searching until we had gotten as far as the Kahuku. Lucky us. Like a lighthouse beacon grabbing a sailor’s attention, it was the Fire in Paradise Burger that arrested ours. Wow is the only thing we could utter as we fell in love with their grilled pineapple and a jalapeno burger. The place is popular with the college crowd, so be prepared to wait, but it’s so well worth it. Back in the room, we opened the balcony door wide to go to sleep to the sound of the crashing surf below.

Oregon Coast – Day 6

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

View from our yurt on the Oregon coast

The luxury of our Jetboil never ceases to amaze us; the best camping purchase we’ve made in years. Typically, we would break camp and head for a restaurant or have sandwiches or granola bars at the ready. Making oatmeal in the Jetboil is not only fast, but the hot food enjoyed in the camp where we stayed is perfect. Not only that, we are saving a ton of money from going to town. We also purchased the optional French Press that stows perfectly within the Jetboil, so we have coffee, too. (Now, if only this thing were self-cleaning…) Over breakfast, I’m still reading through Austin Kleon’s “Steal Like An Artist” and want it to last forever. It is a short book that will too soon be over; I wish I could give it to everyone I know.

Patterns in the sand on an Oregon Beach

The next hours are spent out at the ocean; we are easily lost in the magnificence of the coast and could stare at the patterns in the sand for the entire day.

On the Pacific Coast in Oregon near Cape Lookout and Cape Meares

The sky will never look much different than this right now, though the sun, on rare occasions, will punctuate their outlines and lend some minor drama to the show. We’re okay with this; it’s quiet, feeling isolated, and quite alone – we can deal with this.

View of Netarts, Oregon

Netarts Bay and the village of Netarts lay motionless on this autumn day. While it’s already noon, the golden light being filtered by the heavy overcast skies betrays the reality of what time it really is, with the illusion of sunrise just now creeping upon the landscape.

Drift wood on Cape Meares in Oregon

There’s a small community of folks living on Cape Meares, just four or five streets right up against the ocean. On the south side of “town” is the Cape Meares National Wildlife Refuge and on the north is the Bayocean Peninsula County Park. The beach here is one of the more remote on the coast, as we are a good distance from Tillamook and a short drive from the main road that most tourists seem not to consider going down. As such, there isn’t much parking here, just enough for about a dozen cars; there are three, including us, here today. A tip for you: keep your eye peeled for the Bayocean Dike Road on the bayside of Cape Meares; it takes you out to a more accommodating parking area with a trail that crosses from the Tillamook bayside to the ocean side where you can enjoy a few miles of beach nearly all to yourself.

Moss covered fallen tree next to Tillamook Bay near McCoys Cove in Oregon

We’re on our way into Tillamook, though the majority of the place is closed for the Thanksgiving holiday. Just north of town in Garibaldi are neighbors competing for the appetites of travelers offering bargain prices for their interpretation of the feast. We opted for the more expensive one, thinking it must be the homemade version, we weren’t disappointed. Kellie is the owner of Parkside Coffee House and had her family on hand to help serve up dinner, but it was her daughter Olivia who made our meal perfect. What she lacked in skill (she’s likely about 11 years old) she made up for with her cutey-pie attitude and a hint of shyness. Mom’s sister was there to look over shoulders just in case, and everything was delightful, from the turkey to the marionberry pie.

Walking out to Rockaway Beach in Oregon

Kelli directed us to a nice pullout up the road overlooking Garibaldi Bay; we were certain we’d need a nap after that stuffing; instead, the view invigorated us, and after a short pause, we were again traveling north. Our next stop was here at Rockaway Beach.

Twin Rocks offshore on the Oregon Coast

Time for a long walk, the first long walk on the beach of the trip, and what a beauty it is. We walked south down toward Twin Rocks on this flat, wide beach made more so due to it being low tide. The wet sand mirrors the sky above, pushing for the horizon to disappear. It’s mid-afternoon, and the majority of people must be eating their Thanksgiving feasts about now. I say this because we are mostly alone out here. Soon, maybe within the hour, it will get busy on the beach, as this has been our experience during other Oregon coast holiday trips. After food and football, the throngs head to the beach rather than risk coronary attack as the weight of indulgence grips their hearts. Throngs, in my view, will be ten people.

Sand dollar on Rockaway Beach in Oregon

There are riches to be found out here, not of monetary value, but of aesthetic value that holds immeasurable wealth. Sand dollars are nature’s way of telling you that you have been following her yellow brick road and that Oz is just around the corner. We keep walking that path.

Patterns in the sand on the Oregon Coast

No, this is not an interpretive piece of art depicting mountains in China or a bunch of hooded monks in procession; these are random patterns in the sand, and tomorrow they will be gone forever.

Caroline Wise "playing" kelp on the Oregon coast

Thinking she’d found a soggy didgeridoo, Caroline tries getting the thing to play. Sorry, wife, kelp is not the indigenous instrument you thought, nor is a flute or even a blade of grass that whistles. What she should have done instead of blowing was suck so she could have enjoyed a nice belt of saltwater from her sea straw. We are now at Hug Point State Park where we decide to linger instead of trying to make Ecola State Park for the night. We are close to Nehalem Bay, where they have a yurt for us, so we took it. By the way, Hug Point is not named for a romantic notion; it took its name from the old stagecoach that ran up the coast and was forced to wait for low tide so it could “hug” the rocks to stay out of the ocean.

Caroline Wise knitting gloves in a yurt at Nehalem Bay State Park in Oregon

Not even 5:30 and it’s dark out, well it’s winter and we certainly knew what we were in for. The heater is on to warm our luxury tent. No TV, no internet, no phone, no texting, no laptop to distract us. Caroline pulls out her knitting, me the writing gear – a Moleskine and a pen. While I write about the day, Caroline is turning some bison wool our friends Rob Lazarotto and Jerry Roberts picked up for her as a gift while on vacation in Pennsylvania this summer into gloves. The bottle in front of her is a hard cider from Carlton Cyderworks in McMinnville, Oregon, called Carry Nation, used to “Slake Your Thirst!” As for me, I write about vacation costs, DNA, and evolution, striking back at humanity for neglecting its responsibility or a bunch of nothing really.

Oregon Coast – Day 5

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

A short rainbow in the distance at South Beach State Park in Oregon

Shortly after our moonlit walk on the beach last night, the weather turned. As the evening went on, things became worse, tormenting our plans for sleep. A bright flash of lightning startled both of us awake somewhere in the middle of dreams, followed by a near-instantaneous clap of monumental thunder. Then it started to rain as though buckets were being tossed on the exterior of the yurt. With the rain picking up, the wind joined in the chorus until buckets were replaced by barrels of water; this was not the serenade that would lull us back to sleep. Eventually, nature’s concert exited the stage, and before we knew it, it was time for us to leave the yurt. A shower is finally on tap. With the hair degreased and the funk defunked we packed the car and followed last night’s footsteps back to the ocean. A hole in the sky had opened, offering a respite and a peek at blue, but it was changing fast. We are in a state of oohs-and-aahs; seafoam is blowing up the shore, and a strong, constant wind works nature’s art exhibit here on the edge of the Pacific. In the distance, the shortest rainbow I’ve ever seen is on the horizon, letting us know the rain is coming our way. It catches us before we reach the car.

The Lookout at Cape Foulweather on the Oregon coast

Breakfast was an event worthy of making note of here on my blog: we returned to the Newport Cafe! It was a pricey start to the day, but it was indulgent, too, if you love seafood. Caroline ordered the “Hang Town Fry” – fresh Yaquina Bay oysters (a whole lot of them) grilled with spinach and onions before being mixed into a heap of scrambled eggs served next to a mountain of red potatoes and toast. Her breakfast is huge and “good and plenty” – especially the baby aliens (oysters). My breakfast was the “Pacific Seafood Scramble” – crab, shrimp, and scallops with fresh veggies and scrambled eggs topped with cheddar. By the time we are finished with our morning feast, the sun is lifting a layer of steam off the street, with the sky opening fast. This photo was taken north of Newport at The Lookout at Cape Foulweather, a nice little gift shop with one of the best views ever.

Waves crashing ashore on the Oregon coast

The next photos will attest to how beautiful our day would turn out to be, but they do not portray the whole truth. Over our shoulders and off in the not-too-distant horizon, big heavy clouds remained a near-constant presence. Who needs to look at that stuff and worry about what it may bring when right before us is all the incredible we could possibly need?

Remnants of a storm keeps the surf ferocious on the Oregon coast

The sea remains ferocious from the effects of the storm that has been churning up the coast. We content ourselves sitting at various pullouts along the coast, watching and listening to the waves come crashing in. Each massive explosion of surf produces a little rush of excitement as the chaos unfolds right before us.

Waves explode against the coast as storm ravaged seas churn on the Oregon coast

In the distance, the sea looks calm, but by the time those deceptive waters reach the shore, the fury that the storm has produced is unleashed along the Oregon coast. We stand here in awe watching the display that is a far cry from the staid scenery of cactus standing vigil over the desert landscape in which we spend the majority of our time. Let’s celebrate nature’s diversity with fireworks from the ocean!

The molten sea off the coast of Oregon as it shimmers in the sunlight

A change of perspective and the sun rising in the sky is all that is required to throw new light upon what a minute ago seemed to become as familiar as the back of my hand. The ocean turns into molten metal, and we melt before its beauty.

A trail leading to the beach over sand dunes and beach grasses on the Oregon coast

There is more to see at the sea than just one stretch of ocean, so we move further up the coast. These grass-covered sand dunes are an absolute favorite of mine here in Oregon. They create mystery for what lies on the other side; I never know if I should expect a party or a rogue wave to crest the hilltop as we approach the trail down to the beach. I shot a dozen more such images, but where do I draw the line with sharing too much of a theme?

The mid-afternoon sun pushing storm clouds to the east on the Oregon coast

No killer waves, no party either, just one other person as far as the eye can see. During the fall and winter, there are very few people out here. Tomorrow, that will be different. It’s Thanksgiving, and people, for some reason feel that is a good reason to venture onto the beach, but on the days around the holiday, we are often the only ones out here. Of course, we love the solitude, but all the same, we wonder how the beauty of this place doesn’t draw others by the thousands.

Sand Lake at the Clay Myers State Natural Area at Whalen Island

Whalen Road crossing Sand Lake at the Clay Myers State Natural Area at Whalen Island is one of our favorite views along the coast. You have to leave Highway 101 heading towards Cape Kiwanda and Cape Lookout instead of driving directly to Tillamook for your cheese and ice cream fix, but the detour is well worth the drive. Not only is the Whalen Island area beautiful, but the entire Three Capes coastal drive is a stellar attraction here on the Oregon coast. We could easily spend a week just exploring Cape Kiwanda up to Cape Meares, with stops in Tillamook for salmon jerky at Debbie D’s Sausage Factory and smoked brie over at the Blue Heron French Cheese Company.

Netarts Bay in Oregon

A view of Netarts Bay with our ever-present shadow of clouds moving right along with us. So what that we can’t strip off a layer of clothes and go swimming, and who cares if we won’t be tanning out here under those gray clouds? It’s still a sight to see. Sometimes, I can’t help but think that the majority of people on Earth are so well-conditioned that they can look at scenery such as this and not see what’s really right before their faces. I’ll bet if a popular TV show were filmed at this location or some movie had a pivotal scene play out here, there would be a whole new interest in coming out here and all of a sudden being one of those who “Have always loved Netarts Bay, my family used to come here every year when I was a kid. Of course, I’ve been here before.”

Netarts Bay from above looking southwest on the Oregon coast

That last photo was Netarts Bay from below; this one is from above. The perspective is kind of wonky, and I’ve certainly failed the rule of thirds, but I couldn’t help but be intrigued at how the curves of the coast and strange angles of the trees skewed this image. Now imagine you are out on the bay in your small boat; it’s summer, and after a day of sailing on the bay, you pull up to the shore for a barbecue.

Cape Meares Lighthouse on the coast of Oregon

Road number 131, also known as the Netarts Oceanside Highway, becomes the Cape Meares Loop in the town of Oceanside. This is another one of those places that, while we are passing through, makes us think, “Someday, we’ll have to stay here.” Up the road a little more and a turn-off leads through the Cape Meares State Park over to the Cape Meares Lighthouse. I don’t know anymore how many times we’ve been out here and we’re still not bored visiting it. Matter of fact I think I have a very similar photo already on my blog. (Sure do, from May 2005, click here to see it)

Out on the Three Capes scenic area near Tillamook, Oregon

There’s not a lot of daylight left out here, so we’ll take our time to enjoy it, who cares if we get into Tillamook in the dark when we have views like this? We are on the trail from the lighthouse, leading back to the parking lot. For those of you who have been out here, you know exactly which one I’m talking about; it goes uphill, and doesn’t it always seem to be that it is the last trail of the day when you least want to climb up hills? Oh, how I’d like to live right here.

Looking west from Cape Meares State Park at the Pacific ocean in Oregon

Last photo of the day before we head into town to grab some smoked brie, salmon jerky, and a beer for Caroline. We have to backtrack to Cape Lookout, where we are staying in another yurt. In all the dampness, I still managed to get a fire going and fought hard to keep it alive. We were out here to camp, and camping ain’t that without a fire. Tonight, we dine like royalty on French bread with brie while listening to the crackle of the fire. What a charming day.

Oregon Coast – Day 4

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

A yurt at Sunset Bay State Park in Oregon

We are inching ever closer to something akin to hibernation; what else should we call over 10 hours of sleep? I’d like to call it luxury living in yurts! Out of the cocoon, we slink off to the toilet hut; a hint of blue sky sits behind the cloud cover. Got breakfast made just in time for a light rain to start falling. Oops, spoke to soon. Big drops are starting to hit the yurt, and in moments, we are being pummeled. Caroline knits while I write. We sip our coffee and stay snug and cozy here at Sunset Bay on the Oregon coast.

hing on the rocks at Shore Acres State Park in Oregon

With a break in the rain, we use the opportunity to fill the car with our gear and hit the road. Just when we think we’ve seen the entirety of the coast, a turn in the road proves that we, in fact, have missed something. This time, it is Shore Acres; once home to a wealthy industrialist, it is now a state park. Great location this man chose for his oceanfront home, too. Tilted sandstone with fossilized blobs juts out of the ocean below the cliffside. We head for the observation deck that marks the spot where Mr. Louis J. Simpson’s mansion once stood; it burned down twice. Following the Great Depression and Mr. Simpson’s fortune dwindling, he donated the property to the state – lucky us.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at Shore Acres State Park in Oregon

Inside the enclosed observation deck are displays that show what sunny weather visitors might see out on Simpson Reef and the ocean that was once his front yard. Those fossilized blobs are concretions; rocks that formed within the sediment that likely had been collecting around the organic matter. Seals, sea lions, ospreys, cormorants, pelicans, and black oystercatchers are just a few of the species of wildlife living down on the reef, which is a part of the Oregon Islands National Wildlife Refuge. The big visitors are the gray whales that pass by, though they don’t usually arrive until December on their southerly travels and then again between March and April as they head north with calves in tow.

Unger's Bay Fish-N-Chips at Winchester Bay, Oregon

Up the road a bit, we round the corner overlooking Cape Arago. We don’t linger very long as the wind is whipping against us hard. Another road leads us to South Jetty and Bastendorf Beach, while the next turn takes us to Eel Lake and Tugman State Park, another park with a great selection of yurts. A few more miles and we are in Winchester Bay with a sun that is trying to poke through the gloom. We spot the roof for Unger’s Bay Fish-N-Chips and set our taste buds on drool, wouldn’t you know it, they were closed. I have a vague memory that this is a deja vu from another trip. Remember that Unger’s is closed Monday through Wednesday. Across the way is a cluster of restaurants; we see a sign for Griffs. Turns out that this was the original. No longer owned by the same people, their red snapper is undeniably super yum. Caroline toasts her beer made in Deschutes called Mirror Pond Pale Ale to the Sun, which is making more frequent appearances.

The Oregon coast as the sky clears from a heavy fall storm

Our intention was to drive through Florence, but it is one of those coastal towns big enough to feature a Dutch Brothers, which sounds great after a lethargy-inducing lunch. Not quite out of Florence, we are forced to pull over at another of those “stop sign” shops where a dealer of yarn beckons us. This one is called Happy Kamper Yarn Barn and is on the north side of town. One of the big motivators for stopping at these shops is that the yarns become projects that become souvenirs from the locations where they were picked up. Those objects then take us back on our journeys when, at other times (most likely traveling), we reminisce about how this scarf, hat, or pair of gloves came from the yarn we picked up in town so and so back when we were in Maine, Oregon, Hawaii, or Florida. This way, our souvenirs no longer take up shelf space and grow dusty; they are worn as reminders of how lucky we are to be able to visit so many places. With the sun still pouring down on us we ponder visiting Heceta Head Lighthouse but opt instead for a walk on the beach, our first in the three days we’ve been up here.

The sun getting low in the sky as it competes with the clouds over a beach on the Oregon coast

The sun pushes us to drive on and skip our intended campground at Carl Washburne State Park. We’ll go where the road takes us. Beachside State Park is closed for the season, maybe the next park. First, though, we’ll have to walk along another beach.

Sunset at South Beach State Park near Newport, Oregon

Just outside of Newport, South Beach State Park has space available; they even have yurts for rent. Lazy, here we come. To heck with pitching the tent, we’ll take another night of indulgence. The clouds are starting to move in, but not before the sun attempts an encore performance and tries to stay ahead of the clouds that threaten to blot it out. We couldn’t have asked for a better day, and all we had to do to earn it was endure a few days of weather that added its own character to our week-long stay on the coast.

The Ultimate Monster Burger from the Newport Cafe in Newport, Oregon

Dinner, if you can call this exorbitance, is served at the Newport Cafe in Newport, Oregon. Yelp said that lots of people like the place, we’ll go with that. Famous for their large portions, the burgers come highly recommended. No wonder. We compromised and ordered the Ultimate Monster Burger for only $13.95 as opposed to the heftier 8-pound version called the Super Ultimate Monster Burger for $26.95; ours was only 4 pounds of burger. When the beast arrives, our eyes grow as large as what’s on the plate – this is crazy big. The table next to us lets out a gasp, muffling our own. As it hits the table, we are all smiles until the thud has us utter an “Oh my god!” This burger is amazing, not just its novelty, it is truly a great burger. This thing is piled high with grilled onions, ham, fried eggs, cheddar cheese, pickles, lettuce, and maybe a few other things. Amazingly, we finished it, not that this was anything special. That honor goes to the youngest person to finish their very own, a 12-year-old girl who finished one of these by herself! We are told that no one individual has ever finished the 8-pounder, so the challenge is on. This thing was so good we talked about coming back in the morning for another, and we would have if we weren’t worried about death making an appearance if we had. One more important note, the Newport Cafe is open 24 hours a day.

Settled into our yurt. Dinner, though, was playing the fiddle of guilt; time to walk some of this off. With half a moon out and the first stars we’ve seen since leaving Arizona, we walked out into the dark for a stroll on the beach. Through the coastal forest and sand dunes to the beach, we lay our eyes upon the ocean glimmering in the moonlight. Thin low clouds are darting north, occasionally blotting out the moon, but only for moments. I wonder out loud about how early humans might have seen this world back when few people inhabited these lands and the earth was infinite. The pressure put on our species by self-awareness has had impacts that few can comprehend. Maybe the abandonment of our awareness of the infinite is what keeps us from enlightenment that would be difficult or impossible to attain by the superstitious. At what point in our evolution will the masses be ready to perceive what we know about the complexity of life? Gods are easy, atoms from here to infinity that self-organize to create matter and intelligence; now that’s hard. Will there be a moment when destiny dictates that we come to terms with that? What if we fail? What other species might arise that would be better suited to pick up the ashes of learning to deal with our place in the infinite?

We then walk back to camp. There is hope that tomorrow brings more clearing skies, but how do we tackle clearing minds of fear and hostility when cadres of people specialize in mongering the halting of our march forward? Where are humanity’s lighthouses on this dark shore as our intelligence extends beyond the night it has lived in for millennia?