California, Here I Come!
In the morning, Mary Lou shopped at the Birkenstock outlet while I sent out the previous blog entry at the state-of-the-art Lincoln City public library. On our way out of town we passed the "D" River. The sign said it was the shortest river in the world, but they will have to duke it out with the Roe River near Great Falls, MT, which claims it is recorded in the Guinness Book of World Records as the shortest. The Roe is definitely shorter than the D, but we probably could have a lively debate about what qualifies as a river.
The day, although cloudy, was another parade of stunning ocean scenery. It seems each county claims to have one of the most beautiful stretches of coastline in Oregon. And, actually, they all do. Our first major stop was a viewpoint at the outskirts of Depoe Bay. A state park employee showed us where we could spot gray whales blowing water spouts. He said whales had been seen close in, right in Depoe Bay. We went there and a fluke was disappearing into the water as I got out of the car. We saw a number of blows and gray backs, many quite near to shore. Then we moved on down 101 to the Devil's Punch Bowl, formed when the ceiling of two adjoining caves collapsed. You can look down into the bowl and watch the waves pour in through a former cave door. At an espresso kiosk there, the barista told me it had been her busiest summer ever. I asked, "The gas prices haven't kept people away?" She said there had been lots of Canadians taking advantage of the favorable exchange rate, and lots of Germans.
The next stop was the Yaquina Head Lighthouse. It was picturesque (aren't all lighthouses?). Just south of Waldorf, we stopped at the Governor Patterson Memorial State Park and took in a strong dose of wave mesmerization. Then we pulled into the Landmark restaurant on the estuary in Yachats for a late lunch/early supper (lupper?). We had a splendid view of the estuary, thickly strewn with seagulls floating in the still water, and the waves breaking at the mouth of the river. I had a delicious cioppino (Italian seafood soup). Right outside the window by our table, a substantially-sized Western gull stood on one leg throughout our meal. It twice stretched the free leg behind it, and once set that leg down for about 5 seconds, but otherwise spent the better part of an hour standing on the same single leg and giving us a gimlet eye, never showing the slightest bit of imbalance. The waitresses said they thought the gull had figured out that such a show would produce French fries from the diners, which is why it was so fat. It indeed got a French fry from me upon our departure.
We turned in at the sign to the Hecate lighthouse -- the most photographed light house in Oregon, possibly in the world! (As Mary Lou said, How do they know that?) From the parking lot, the lighthouse was hiding behind trees, and neither of us had the inclination to take the trail up to it. But 101 soon had a turnout that gave one a perfect view back to the lighthouse. I went up to the wall of the turnout to take a picture, but first looked down and gasped. A man standing nearby chuckled, knowing I had just seen that the rock below was carpeted with sea lions lying in the sun (which had finally come out). He said there were sea lions on all the rocks going around the corner of the point, and sure enough there were. There was also a gray whale spouting out in the ocean. The sea lions took to grunting as a few argued over rock real estate.
Not long after this, a turnout gave a view of the start of the sand dunes. We continued on, passing numerous signs to beaches. At Coos Bay we got a little lost, ending on a road that dead ended at Cape Arago State Park. But it was worth it, because at Sunset Beach there were a zillion seals barking a hallelujah chorus with the sun low behind them, and at the terminus of the road we saw a black-tail deer and her adorable fawn feeding at her teat, then looking up at us ever so cutely. We turned around and retraced our steps, then turned where a sign pointed to Bandon, our agreed-upon stopping point. The road was labeled Discovery Drive and followed a ridge through forest, with absolutely no development -- beautiful and nerve-wracking as the sun set and painted the sky fuchsia and gold. We finally made it to Bandon in the dark. The motel directions said Highway 42, 2 blocks from 101. The only highway intersecting 101 in Bandon was 425. Turns out they are the same thing. 42 equals 425, give or take a 5.
Wednesday morning brought the lovely surprise of not being cloudy/foggy, but bright and clear. Mary Lou, who lived in San Francisco 30 years, says this is the pattern -- about three days of morning fog, then a clear day. I sat on the Coquille jetty, listening to the fog horn and watching the waves take on light as the sun rose. We had breakfast at the Station in Bandon, did laundry, washed the car, and, sparkling as the day, continued south.
The sun made the beautiful Oregon coast impossibly ravishing. At the south end of Bandon, we walked a loop of trail above the beach and its ocean-set rocks. We saw a whale at the overlook at Port Orford, near the "Port of Port Orford" (honest, that's what the sign said). We ate lunch at a table with an ocean view at a Gold Beach restaurant. We had a tire repaired in Brookings (no flat tire hassle, but I'd noticed a slow leak which turned out to be due to a screw). And otherwise we simply drove through miles of an eye-candy feast of a blue ocean with a white lace collar of foam, set against dramatic cliffs and sculpted rocks.
And then we reached the California state line. I'm home! To celebrate, I splurged on a room at a resort right on the ocean in Crescent City (at the northwest corner of California). Our balcony looks right at a picturesque (of course) lighthouse, and a garden of rocks in the ocean. It must be a fertile area, because in the late afternoon light scads of gulls and pelicans wheeled over the water, and harbor seals frolicked and dove between the rocks. I've watched both the sun and the moon set into the black sea. It doesn't get much better than this.
Just a few more days of this adventure. Next stop: Redwoods.
The day, although cloudy, was another parade of stunning ocean scenery. It seems each county claims to have one of the most beautiful stretches of coastline in Oregon. And, actually, they all do. Our first major stop was a viewpoint at the outskirts of Depoe Bay. A state park employee showed us where we could spot gray whales blowing water spouts. He said whales had been seen close in, right in Depoe Bay. We went there and a fluke was disappearing into the water as I got out of the car. We saw a number of blows and gray backs, many quite near to shore. Then we moved on down 101 to the Devil's Punch Bowl, formed when the ceiling of two adjoining caves collapsed. You can look down into the bowl and watch the waves pour in through a former cave door. At an espresso kiosk there, the barista told me it had been her busiest summer ever. I asked, "The gas prices haven't kept people away?" She said there had been lots of Canadians taking advantage of the favorable exchange rate, and lots of Germans.
The next stop was the Yaquina Head Lighthouse. It was picturesque (aren't all lighthouses?). Just south of Waldorf, we stopped at the Governor Patterson Memorial State Park and took in a strong dose of wave mesmerization. Then we pulled into the Landmark restaurant on the estuary in Yachats for a late lunch/early supper (lupper?). We had a splendid view of the estuary, thickly strewn with seagulls floating in the still water, and the waves breaking at the mouth of the river. I had a delicious cioppino (Italian seafood soup). Right outside the window by our table, a substantially-sized Western gull stood on one leg throughout our meal. It twice stretched the free leg behind it, and once set that leg down for about 5 seconds, but otherwise spent the better part of an hour standing on the same single leg and giving us a gimlet eye, never showing the slightest bit of imbalance. The waitresses said they thought the gull had figured out that such a show would produce French fries from the diners, which is why it was so fat. It indeed got a French fry from me upon our departure.
We turned in at the sign to the Hecate lighthouse -- the most photographed light house in Oregon, possibly in the world! (As Mary Lou said, How do they know that?) From the parking lot, the lighthouse was hiding behind trees, and neither of us had the inclination to take the trail up to it. But 101 soon had a turnout that gave one a perfect view back to the lighthouse. I went up to the wall of the turnout to take a picture, but first looked down and gasped. A man standing nearby chuckled, knowing I had just seen that the rock below was carpeted with sea lions lying in the sun (which had finally come out). He said there were sea lions on all the rocks going around the corner of the point, and sure enough there were. There was also a gray whale spouting out in the ocean. The sea lions took to grunting as a few argued over rock real estate.
Not long after this, a turnout gave a view of the start of the sand dunes. We continued on, passing numerous signs to beaches. At Coos Bay we got a little lost, ending on a road that dead ended at Cape Arago State Park. But it was worth it, because at Sunset Beach there were a zillion seals barking a hallelujah chorus with the sun low behind them, and at the terminus of the road we saw a black-tail deer and her adorable fawn feeding at her teat, then looking up at us ever so cutely. We turned around and retraced our steps, then turned where a sign pointed to Bandon, our agreed-upon stopping point. The road was labeled Discovery Drive and followed a ridge through forest, with absolutely no development -- beautiful and nerve-wracking as the sun set and painted the sky fuchsia and gold. We finally made it to Bandon in the dark. The motel directions said Highway 42, 2 blocks from 101. The only highway intersecting 101 in Bandon was 425. Turns out they are the same thing. 42 equals 425, give or take a 5.
Wednesday morning brought the lovely surprise of not being cloudy/foggy, but bright and clear. Mary Lou, who lived in San Francisco 30 years, says this is the pattern -- about three days of morning fog, then a clear day. I sat on the Coquille jetty, listening to the fog horn and watching the waves take on light as the sun rose. We had breakfast at the Station in Bandon, did laundry, washed the car, and, sparkling as the day, continued south.
The sun made the beautiful Oregon coast impossibly ravishing. At the south end of Bandon, we walked a loop of trail above the beach and its ocean-set rocks. We saw a whale at the overlook at Port Orford, near the "Port of Port Orford" (honest, that's what the sign said). We ate lunch at a table with an ocean view at a Gold Beach restaurant. We had a tire repaired in Brookings (no flat tire hassle, but I'd noticed a slow leak which turned out to be due to a screw). And otherwise we simply drove through miles of an eye-candy feast of a blue ocean with a white lace collar of foam, set against dramatic cliffs and sculpted rocks.
And then we reached the California state line. I'm home! To celebrate, I splurged on a room at a resort right on the ocean in Crescent City (at the northwest corner of California). Our balcony looks right at a picturesque (of course) lighthouse, and a garden of rocks in the ocean. It must be a fertile area, because in the late afternoon light scads of gulls and pelicans wheeled over the water, and harbor seals frolicked and dove between the rocks. I've watched both the sun and the moon set into the black sea. It doesn't get much better than this.
Just a few more days of this adventure. Next stop: Redwoods.
posted by Annventurer | 11:11 PM
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