Down the Coast (Part 2 of 2)

Bethany Beach

That night we split a campsite with Michael at Bethany Beach and walked a short trail out to the ocean before dinner.  The trees there seem to have all grown on the stumps of much older, bigger trees that have mostly rotten away, leaving impossible looking archways of branches in some places. 

We had a really great conversation with Michael around the campfire that night.  He also rock climbs, and we talked about places to climb in Oregon and Washington, and Seth and I heartily recommended that he visit Maine if he gets the chance.  The degree that he just finished is in Human Ecology, and we had some great discussions about consciously reexamining the way in which we as people interact with and exist in the world around us.  In general, I am noticing more people in this part of the country who are interested developing a more local, sustainable economy and in learning and sharing skills that facilitate the freedom and self-sufficiency of individuals and communities. 

Another point on which Michael and I connected was our desire to still share our lives with family members who sometimes struggle to wrap their heads around what in the heck we’re doing.  I realize that sometimes I’m not great about this: about expressing what I’m thinking and why.  I see a lot of things in the world that don’t make sense to me.  It doesn’t make sense to send our money to Hong Kong or New York instead of to our neighbors.  It doesn’t make sense to grow food that depends of the annual purchase of chemicals or genetically modified seeds.  It doesn’t make sense to have a population that, by and large, does not have the skills to shelter, clothe, and feed itself.

So, this is the type of stuff that I’m thinking about and trying to work on in my life.  I know that sometimes my approach must seem to you idealistic and unrealistic, or misguided, but mostly I am trying to live up to my own interpretation of those most important things that I got from you guys as a kid: that you should intelligently consider your actions and their full impact, that you should do unto others as you would have them do unto you, that you should use your power and intellect not only to benefit yourself, but to improve the world and the lives of others around you.  Ultimately, I don’t feel like what I’m doing is much different than what anyone else is doing:  I try to enjoy my life as much as possible while still feeling good about myself and my place in the world.  I know that my way of doing this sometimes runs counter to many of your own thoughts on the world, but you raised a confidant and headstrong individual who trusts her own intellect and instinct, and maybe our not always understanding one another is the downside of that.  But like I said, I’m thinking that I can at least keep the lines of communication a little more open, and that’s a start.

But back to the important stuff (the pretty pictures, that is).  

Newport

The next morning we took Michael a little further down the coast to Newport, which was our Southern terminus.  

We hung out in town a little before parting ways, checking out seagulls and some massive and intricate tree stump sculptures, and finally wishing Michael luck for his next ride.  

Hebo Lake

That night Seth and I departed from the coast and camped up at Hebo Lake campground, where yet another bald eagle swooped overhead as we pulled up to the little mountainside lake.  Almost everyone else there was there to fish, which was actually really nice.  We got this secluded little camp spot at the back of the loop and didn’t encounter another soul on the hiking trail there.  

The forest was heavy with moss; luckily we had absolutely beautiful weather the first full day that we were there and everywhere sunlight broke through the leaves.  As we climbed, the trees changed as we encountered the bizarre and beautiful regularity of an intentionally reforested landscape.  Eventually we came upon this lovely little meadow, where we had a rest and a snack and where a couple of hummingbirds whirred regularly past our heads, but eluded my camera.

When we woke up the next day it was rain and the promise of more rain…  We found ourselves back in Astoria that night, just in time to catch the tail end of a weekend long music festival that an acquaintance there had organized.  I had a really good chat just before we left with Iris, one of the technical co-owners of the Blue Scorcher, about some projects that she’s looking for some help with, for example making reusable bread bags for the bakery (a thought that I had, coincidentally, been tossing around since visiting another bakery in Manzanita earlier that week).  She also taught weaving for a number of years and sounded really interested in teaching me how to use her loom;  I’m really looking forward to getting together next time we are in Astoria.  Our stop in Astoria was brief this time; we left last week to give our friend (and Sarah’s soon to be roommate) Gordon a lift back to Portland, where we have been hanging out the past couple of days and also getting a chance to visit my friend Ashley from Temple who now lives here.  On Saturday, Seth and I went and explored Forest Park, on the edge of the city, which had legitimate (though busy) hiking trails and an enormous arboretum.

Today we are headed further east yet, out to the Mt. Hood area, where I hope to spend a good chunk of time and to hide out somewhere fairly unpopular for the upcoming holiday weekend.  I’ll let you know (and see) how it is!

All of my love to all of you!

Alyssa

Home Sweet Home (on wheels) and Our First Trip Down the Coast (part 1 of 2)

Fort Stevens

The first place that we camped along the coast is just barely outside of Astoria. Unfortunately, it was raining when we started our walk down to the beach and I left the camera behind in the car. As we walked down the nearly empty shore past an old shipwreck that looms, rusting and half buried in the sand, we saw two large birds perched in some driftwood. As we approached we confirmed what both of us thought but were a little surprised by: they were bald eagles. They allowed us to walk quite close before they took off in turn and glided over our heads and out to sea. This sad little photo of Seth checking out the map in our dinky camp spot is all I have from this stop, but like I said, it's just outside of Astoria... I'm sure we'll return.

As we headed down the coast along 101, stunning spruce covered cliffs and beaches popped through the mist. There are viewpoints on the side of the road constantly, and it was hard not to stop at every one.

Nehalem Bay

In Nehalem Bay we camped below low bushy trees separated from the beach by grassy dunes.

These yellow flowers line most of highway 101 in Northern Oregon like a wedding chapel. In one direction is a long jetty that we walked out to past piles of driftwood, spotting two more bald eagles along the way. The next day we discovered that we could walk up the beach in the other direction to Manzanita, the little town that we had passed on the way in, where we then discovered that almost everything there is closed on Tuesday. But no matter, the pub was open, where we were able to grab a couple of veggie burgers and pitcher for Seth’s birthday, and outside without getting rained on to boot.

While we were having our lunch, a college-aged kid that I had seen out on 101 wandered in with his “Going South!” sign still in hand. We chatted with him for a few about the beer selection and food, and then about our respective trips south, and by the time we left we had picked up our first hitchhiker. “We’re not going far or fast,” we told him, “but you’re welcome to ride along with us as long as you like when we head out tomorrow morning.” The next morning Michael met us at our campsite bright and early, tossed his pack in the back, and we were all on our way.

Pacific City

That day we came upon this looming rock formation out in the water and pulled off into the public beach parking where several groups of surfers were hauling their boards out to the sand to catch the modest waves that were rolling in. As we ambled out onto the beach and took in the scene, Seth and I realized that we had inadvertently stumbled upon a recommended destination. Before we left, Sarah's friend Lenny had told us, "When you get to Pacific City, there's a beach, and to the right is a huge dune." "You have to climb that dune," he said with a look of loaded mischief.

We did climb that dune, and the photos from the top pretty much speak for themselves...

A little further down the road we were compelled to stop again. To the right in the first photo you can see Michael, our hitchhiker, hanging out by the fence.

The colorful coves along the coast here reminded me of watching The Little Mermaid as a kid and wishing that I could visit the mermaid's lagoon.

That night we stopped at Bethany Beach and shared a campfire and some great conversation with Michael. He's a college student from Seattle heading down to San Francisco to visit his brother (I hope he's made it or is very close by now!). But, I think I'll save the second half of our trip for another post, which I'll try to put together for tomorrow. Hope you all enjoy the photos and the stories; there will be many many more to come!