Today, I met Susie’s nephew, Misha, with his wife, Hope, and daughters, Lorelei and Anneliese. Also, Z now has school soccer practice on Mondays and Wednesdays, so the days of game playing on Wednesday night are over. I also woke at 4:30 and rose before 6 as I could not get back to sleep. But this worked, and soon, I was having the last of the local ground and roasted coffee from Hillsboro, two peach halves from a jar, and a NYC bagel (thanks, Joyce) with cream cheese and writing about a quiet Tuesday. I was done before 8 and soon dressed.
I packed my overnight bag, meds, and a spare towel, as you never know when traveling to the coast if you will need to spend the night, an event will happen, or you will need a towel (all travelers who read Douglas Adams have a towel). Oregon is still quite new and wild; if you don’t respect it, it will kill you. We lose a few people every year to the ocean, getting lost, cars disappearing over an edge, and elk, beer, and other animals getting to unexpected places. I put my heavy coat in the cargo hold, but it is still too early (a month or two away) before traction devices (cloth sock-like covers for tires in Air Volvo case) must be carried. Air Volvo always has a toolbox and First Aid kit, and the board game Scythe is usually in the cargo hold in case of the need for gaming. Always Available!
I boarded Air Volvo, put on the navigation, and headed across Aloha to Sherwood. I was headed to Depot Bay as Misha and family were still south on the Oregon Coast. They had started on 101 in San Fransico and have driven up the West Coast. We had not set a meeting time, and I was happy to travel across Oregon Wine Country and then take the easy pass over the Coastal Mountains on Salmon River Highway.
There was plenty of gas, and the Engine Check Light was on as the gas flap was leaking air, but it was not dangerous and would not affect Air Volvo’s trip. Which was good, as this trip would drink 1/2 a tank and be about seven hours of driving there and back. I would only get 4500+ steps and somehow gain back five pounds (235), but the trip was a workout with the driving. Wednesday’s weather in Beaverton was overcast and cold. I was surprised to drive into the sunny and warm weather, with me only wearing my sweater in the morning on the coast (on the coast, the nights are cold with cold winds). That is why you will often see fires on the beaches at night with adult beverages and other biologicals being exchanged.
The trip, which I have recently taken one or two times a month, was familiar and was lovely, uneventful, and mostly already forgotten. There were lots of hay and hay trucks. It is approaching fall, and rain will come. Time to get the hay out. Air Volvo complained once about my handling of the car at the end of the trip, and I agreed with it; I needed a break. A polite bell rings thrice, and a coffee cup is displayed with a note that the driver must take a break. Soon I was out of the pass and the Pacific was visible. I stopped at my favorite state park and beach, D-River, in Lincoln City. It is a free park with a nice parking lot, a slightly run-down public bathroom, and a wonderful beach. It is always my first stop, and my first sand in my sand-in-my shoes walk. I try to find a crab shell or a pretty muscle shell to remember the trip.
I walked the beach as it was still early, not even noon, but the wind was comfortable and not even kite strength. I had a kite in the car, remembering it this time, but alas, the winds were weak. I walked the beach and soon walked about a football field to get to the wet sand. It was low tide, and also the King Tides were over until the winter. There I found a crab shell and some young people were picking up the jellies and playing with them, ick. Our waters are cold, and the deadly stuff is not usual on our beaches, unlike what you find on the East Coast and warmer areas. The waves break up the jellies, and only goey bits make it onshore. With my crab, now in the co-pilot seat and coving Air Volvo in Oregon beach sand, I headed south.
There are no events, and it is always a lovely drive. I resisted all the different Mo’s locations for West Coast-style clam chowder—a local chain that makes a decent soup. I reached Depot Bay and was happy to get a parking place looking out into the greater bay and Pacific. I looked out; the sea was calm, and sea kyaks were out in the low tide harvesting from the kelp forest. The last time I was here, there were some unusual high seas with the crashing on the sea wall, sending tourists running or soaked. Today was a perfect day to pay for a Whale Watching. I did that with Susie and Leta right after we moved here, and the memory was happy. Leta has a picture of a whale’s tail on her wall from one of these trips. It was a near-perfect day, and while I had time to take a boat, my balance issues and whether my loss of balance on the left side would make my seasickness better or worse would make it unwise to take a trip today. I will remain on the land. I looked out and saw no whales, taking time to let my eyes adjust to searching (it takes a while to get used to spotting the little dots and tiny spouts of distant whales).
I headed to the Sea Hag for an early lunch (breakfast was early for me). I was allowed to take one of two seats that could see the Pacific and ordered local (if Alaska and Washington’s waters are local) halibut and chips. These serve only three pieces for the price ($23), but all perfectly cooked (yes, I know about the worms as I am local) white fish, and the fries were OK but better with malt vinegar and some lemon. I was reading the news and looking out the window the whole time. The place fills up, and it takes a while for me to pay my bill.
It was time to head out and then reconnect with Misha and family (they were looking at the Sea Lions a few hours away) later. I stopped by and supplied Crabbie (the name for the shell) with saltwater taffy; yes, the crab ate those, not me. I got an extra bag for Z; I always bring her some.
I am just headed south and stopping by some viewpoints. The view is nice, but the boats are here. I watch for thirty minutes and see some dots, and the boats slowly move north towards us. Yes, there were four whales by the boats! I tell the various folks that come to stop and look where to look for the spouts. The whales slowly work north in the kelp forest, and the paid whale watcher gets an excellent view of some whales next to the boats.
Aside: My memory is that a boat can motor only so close and then float in the current. If the boat gets close, that is the whale’s choice, and the whales seem happy to see the crowd and the boats.
I watch the whales and then move back North to a larger park, Rocky Creek State Scenic Viewpoint. There, the whales (and boats) are soon only off the shore as the whales explore towards the north for dinner. These are grey whales. Generally, the orcas are further out, if at all, in our area. Our top predictor is the cold-loving Jaws, when the orcas are not around, that is, great white sharks with smaller 15-foot ones than usual here (yes, that is a small one). Sea lions and seals are plentiful, and so are great white sharks.
Aside: The water is freezing cold, and the sharks generally like their targets in deeper water. Our surfers often look like seals from deep down, and we have a shark incident every few years, often believed to be a mistake on the shark’s part. Sometimes, the shark only bites the surfboard for exciting moments, excellent photos of the results, and bragging rights for the surviving surfer!
I got out my shark kite and managed to fly it on the large grass area in the scenic viewpoint, but the winds were still unreliable, and the kite fell to the ground. It was still good to fly it, and I watched a few more whales before seeing that Misha and his family were headed north.
We met in Depot Bay and decided to stay on 101 (I forgot how crazy and slow it is between Depot Bay and Cannon Beach) and stop at the Wreck of the Peter Iredale in Fort Stephen Park, three hours away. To fortify, locally-made ice cream was acquired and consumed in Depot Bay. We then headed north, with Nav being ignored, leaving 101 for an alternative path into the mountains to gain some time (the view is not as good, and you can find unexpected issues in the mountains). The twisty drive had me slamming the brakes with Air Volvo, helping with a bell, extra braking, and locking the seatbelts when someone stopped unexpectedly. I managed to drive around the cars that also dived for safety rather than slam brakes and hope for the best.
I arrived a few minutes after Misha and family arrived, and the beach was cold and windy. The overcast skies and the cold water from the nearby glacier-fed Columbia make the area cold. I took a picture and we headed on to the nearby Astoria for pizza. I nearly went the wrong way and almost pulled in front of a car, but I managed to reach the pizza place a few minutes after Misha, Hope, Lorelei, and Anneliese found a seat and were looking at the menu.
We ordered too much pizza, as the sizes are about 20% larger than reported. I had an olive and meatball pizza that I only ate (I have lots left), while Misha had a gluten-free pizza. We chatted, but the night was here, and we had hours yet to drive and said our temporary goodbyes. I will not join them for the trip to Evergreen on Thursday, but I will be available as needed.
Misha and I headed down the Columbia River on Highway 30, coming down the 7% incline to an incredible night view of Longview, Washington—looking more like some lighted space station in the darkened skies than a riverport. We then took the bridge and drove through Longview to Highway 5. The Columbia River dives south here, and Portland is thirty miles south-southeast from here. We take Highway 5, which follows the river to Portland. Misha finds their hotel while I continue to cross Portland over all the bridges (having crossed many in the dark in Washington). I managed to reach The Volvo Cave intact with my recently acquired crab shell unbroken but definitely shaken once by 10:20. I unloaded the car and was soon ready for some rest.
I finished The Last of Mr. Norris, set in 1930s Berlin, just a few pages. The end was abrupt as the Nazi takeover seemed to end the parties and the mad-cap feeling of post-WW1 Berlin. The Call of Cthulhu role-playing game has a book, The Wickedest City, about 1920s Berlin, adding cultists and H.P. Lovecraft-style events and dangers. Having read this short book (and the history of New Orleans Smallville), it is an interesting change in the world.
I showered, changed into my PJs, got under the covers, and soon fell asleep. I slept in.
Alohawild (Michael Wild's) Website 