July 2015: Meandering South on the Coast from Seattle to San Francisco - Part 1
After ten days in Seattle and environs with family and friends, it was time to head south toward home.
Traverse at Pt Arena, CA Lighthouse.
So Sunday night, after saying goodbye and we’ll see you in October for your wedding to friends Tim and Diane, we boarded the ferry in Edmonds for the 20-minute crossing to Kingston.
Tim, Bobby, & Diane
Doug & Tim
The early evening sun and wind reminded me of the ferry crossing from Cedar Island to Ocracoke, NC, about this time last year. The Atlantic last year, the Pacific this: how fortunate we are.
We limited our drive down the coast to 150 to 200 miles a day, to accommodate my back. Though it’s been two years since my spinal fusion surgery, road trips, as much as I love them, are still not my best friend. But with a memory foam seat topper, air mattress, and short drives, it's all doable.
Our friend JR beat us to the Aberdeen Walmart, where we “camped” that first night in our twin Ford camper vans, the "Vans of Wrath."
"Vans of Wrath": Doug & ours on left, JR & his on right.
I’ve learned that a free night with nearby shopping for supplies is not such a bad thing on occasion. I loved the sound of the trains passing on the trestle not 30 yards away, but the hissing and rumbling of a 5-eyed monster stopped on the trestle during the night awoke me with a pounding heart, and I didn’t sleep much after that.
Camped in our Vans of Wrath at Walmart in Aberdeen, WA.
Monday morning we were off on the short drive to Astoria, OR, one of Doug's favorite places, with its Victorian architecture and easy-going downtown. We had lunch, checked out a favorite spot, Godfather's Books and Espresso, and walked around town, before heading to Fort Stevens State Park. We'd been snowed in there on our inaugural trip in the MRV the previous winter.
Fort Stevens SP, Astoria, OR.
We soon had the Traverse leveled, the top popped, my chair turned around, and the bed made. JR arrived shortly and was also set up, when it occurred to us that we’d have to put one of the Vans of Wrath back together to drive to dinner. Not that we couldn’t cook—we were, after all, camping—but no one volunteered. Well, you’re never too old for firsts, so we took JR’s idea and ordered pizza.
Marilyn & JR & decadent dinner: pizza delivered to our campsite.
The guys walked to the nearby market for beer. Soon a bright green car arrived with our teaming hot pizza. Yep, we had pizza delivered to our campsite.
JR shared his Father’s Day chocolate cheesecake—good thing he and Doug took a long walk on the beach before dinner. Unfortunately, I didn’t.
1906 Wreck of the Peter Iredale on beach at Fort Stevens SP.
Traverse & Peter Iredale.
The next morning, after bidding JR happy trekking, Doug and I were back on 101, recalling past trips, together and with others, as we drove by very touristy Seaside and Cannon Beach; Garibaldi, where in 2001 a local doctor infamously offered a free vasectomy for the town’s fundraiser; and Jetty Fishery, where to-die-for crabs go from tank to pot to large metal serving pan.
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Foxglove along roadside.
Lunch was a double scoop waffle cone at the Tillamook Cheese Factory. We also purchased Doug’s favorite, cheese curds, and sharp white cheddar for me. While licking our cones, we chatted with a young cyclist on his way from Seattle to California’s Redwoods, where his parents would pick him up for the return trip.
The prevailing winds on the coast are southerly, so the vast majority of cyclists we passed were southbound. Some we surmised might be regretting the amount of gear in their panniers. We worried about the rider with a homemade trailer with a very wobbly 27” wheel and admired the presumed superb compatibility of a couple on a tandem.
At Depoe Bay, a summer hangout for gray whales and orcas, I caught sight of a whale blowing and sounding.
A little further south, at Cape Foulweather, so named by Captain James Cook in 1778, the young ranger said her job is hard to beat, what with the cliff-edge views all around looking straight down to the ocean and the happy travelers passing through from all over the world.
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Doug bought me earrings at the ranger station, as he often does on our trips, this time gorgeous abalone hoops.
One day, when the trip was in the planning stages, Doug told me he’d just read about a great campground in Oregon called Tillicum Beach. I informed him rather smugly that I’d already reserved it. It was a real find, on a low cliff above the Pacific in the Siuslaw National Forest between Waldport and Yachits.
Walking on the typically expansive Oregon beach we saw tons of sand dollars, much larger than the ones we collect by the hundreds on California’s Central Coast, but nary a one was whole.
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Our campsite included a grassy area with picnic table, but we couldn’t see the ocean from there, so we parked our chairs on the asphalt to enjoy the view and the sunset.
Our first stop Wednesday morning was breakfast at the Old Town Coffee Co. on Suislaw Harbor in Florence. The tables here are beautiful, each a unique piece of wood left in its natural shape and finished to a smooth shine. Doug had apple strudel and I too much peach coffee cake.
We walked some of it off on the harbor boardwalk, stopping to buy California tomatoes, peaches, and apricots and contributing to the owner’s lovely sixth grade daughter's college fund. We investigated the Port of Suislaw Campground with sites right on the water, for a future trip.
Shortly south of Florence, we entered Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area, with its frequent signs cautioning us we were entering or leaving a tsunami danger zone. We wondered at the apparently unabated housing boom on sand spits, given the large earthquake and likely attendant tsunami reported to be overdue in the Cascadian Subduction Zone. Historically they have occurred every 200 years, and the last was about 250 years ago.
Highway 101 heads inland at the south end of the dunes, passing through North Bend and Coos Bay, where the lumber industry seems to have somewhat revived. We stopped in Bandon, where 101 hits the coast again, another quite touristy town. While Doug read, I toured the boardwalk, whose children’s area has a fun spiral pattern in the decking surrounded by shiny wood sea creatures.
Children’s paintings of the sea lined the railing, with the public invited to vote on the best—I liked them all. At the other end of the boardwalk, I caught sight of a bald eagle flying large circles, beating hard against the wind away from me, then soaring back, until he landed on a pylon in the water.
Humbug Mountain State Park, another favorite, was our camp for the night. In nearby Port Orford, we tried a popular restaurant, new to us, the Crazy Norwegian’s Fish and Chips. My clams were huge, and Doug appreciated the light batter on his fish.
I continued to try to get the perfect picture of the giant Queen Anne’s Lace we saw all along the coast. I call them Queen Anne's Lace, though they might be something that looks similar, like Cow Parsley.
The next day, we continued on our way south, with a couple of stops to walk the beach and just take it all in.
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At Depoe Bay, a summer hangout for gray whales and orcas, I caught sight of a whale blowing and sounding.
A little further south, at Cape Foulweather, so named by Captain James Cook in 1778, the young ranger said her job is hard to beat, what with the cliff-edge views all around looking straight down to the ocean and the happy travelers passing through from all over the world.
Sign at Cape Foulweather.
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View from Cape Foulweather ranger station.
View from Cape Foulweather. Note rock wall on lower right.
Doug bought me earrings at the ranger station, as he often does on our trips, this time gorgeous abalone hoops.
Even in pictures, the view from Cape Foulweather can be a bit dizzying.
Campsite on low cliff above Pacific, Tillicum Beach.
Walking on the typically expansive Oregon beach we saw tons of sand dollars, much larger than the ones we collect by the hundreds on California’s Central Coast, but nary a one was whole.
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Walking on the beach at Tillicum Beach.
Our campsite included a grassy area with picnic table, but we couldn’t see the ocean from there, so we parked our chairs on the asphalt to enjoy the view and the sunset.
Doug relazing at our campsite.
Sunset, Tillicum Beach.
Our first stop Wednesday morning was breakfast at the Old Town Coffee Co. on Suislaw Harbor in Florence. The tables here are beautiful, each a unique piece of wood left in its natural shape and finished to a smooth shine. Doug had apple strudel and I too much peach coffee cake.
Port of Siuslaw, Florence OR.
We walked some of it off on the harbor boardwalk, stopping to buy California tomatoes, peaches, and apricots and contributing to the owner’s lovely sixth grade daughter's college fund. We investigated the Port of Suislaw Campground with sites right on the water, for a future trip.
There are many great old bridges with concrete pillars in Oregon.
Shortly south of Florence, we entered Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area, with its frequent signs cautioning us we were entering or leaving a tsunami danger zone. We wondered at the apparently unabated housing boom on sand spits, given the large earthquake and likely attendant tsunami reported to be overdue in the Cascadian Subduction Zone. Historically they have occurred every 200 years, and the last was about 250 years ago.
Highway 101 heads inland at the south end of the dunes, passing through North Bend and Coos Bay, where the lumber industry seems to have somewhat revived. We stopped in Bandon, where 101 hits the coast again, another quite touristy town. While Doug read, I toured the boardwalk, whose children’s area has a fun spiral pattern in the decking surrounded by shiny wood sea creatures.
Bandon boardwalk.
Bandon boardwalk: wood crab surrounded by children's art.
Children’s paintings of the sea lined the railing, with the public invited to vote on the best—I liked them all. At the other end of the boardwalk, I caught sight of a bald eagle flying large circles, beating hard against the wind away from me, then soaring back, until he landed on a pylon in the water.
Humbug Mountain State Park, another favorite, was our camp for the night. In nearby Port Orford, we tried a popular restaurant, new to us, the Crazy Norwegian’s Fish and Chips. My clams were huge, and Doug appreciated the light batter on his fish.
Beach at Humbug Mountain SP, reached via a path under the 101 bridge high above.
I continued to try to get the perfect picture of the giant Queen Anne’s Lace we saw all along the coast. I call them Queen Anne's Lace, though they might be something that looks similar, like Cow Parsley.
Giant Queen Anne's Lace were all along the Coast.
Closeup of Queen Anne's Lace.
The next day, we continued on our way south, with a couple of stops to walk the beach and just take it all in.
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Doug, Oregon Coast.
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Oregon Coast.
Doug, Oregon Coast.
Brookings, OR, just north of the OR-CA border.
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