Déjà vu all over again. We found ourselves in coastal Oregon around the 4th of July. I think it was my eighth time through the state but that is just a guess. It is some number above six. It all began years ago when our kids were little. Their favorite movie was Free Willy and Willy was being kept, after the production of the film, in the small aquarium in Newport. Another several trips involved wine excursions usually with an additional beach presence. It used to be, and may still be that Memorial Day weekend was a thing at all of the wineries. Back then they weren’t open to visitors most of the time as they are now, but did open a couple of times a year and one of those times was that weekend.
September is my favorite time to visit. But as it gets hotter everywhere else, mid-Summer chilly breezes, albeit often damp, are worth chasing. Also one of the daughters has a block of mandatory off-time around the 4th of July. And there are the big bonfires and fireworks of the Lincoln City beaches to celebrate the holiday in a unique fashion that we have gotten used to.
So we tend to find ourselves in Lincoln City for the 4th these days. This time it was the two of us, two daughters and a son-in-law with our two pups. One daughter flew and we and the other daughter and son-in-law both drove separately. Oh, and they had a cat. Complicated. We stayed in separate places. Because of the cat. Our original cabin set-up didn’t allow cats. So they found a separate tiny-home Airbnb in a slightly inland campground that did. But we ended up staying at a fancy golf resort rather than our beach cliff cabin because of some sort of mix-up. The resort allowed pups so all’s well that ends well. Although nobody is a golfer. Complicated. It did put us at the mouth of the Siletz river, of interest because of Ken Kesey’s novel “Sometimes a Great Notion” about the waning days of Oregon coastal logging and set in a fictional town based on the Siletz river and the town of Depoe Bay. As a huge fan of Kesey because of “One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest” and other things, I am sure I was aware of the “Great Notion” novel but was not aware of the Paul Newman and Henry Fonda film based on the book.
We’ve begun taking advantage of the Lincoln City road trip to visit other parts of the state. Last year it was Hood River, Mount Hood and the Columbia River gorge. This time we were all over the map. We came in through the high desert and Bend, over the southern cascades through Sisters and Salem and then to the coast. On the way out we hit the wine country, then Portland to drop off a daughter at the airport. We visited a couple of Newberg wineries and the Portland rose garden again. And hit up a huge truck-stop next to the airport to wash our dogs. It is a thing now. They have coin-operated machines. I guess truckers have dogs too. We Googled for a self-wash place and ended up at the truck stop. Then back down through Salem to the southern coast at Reedsport and along the coast with a dip into California, then back up into Oregon through a redwood forest, along a beautiful river to Grants Pass and on to Crater Lake and then home via Klamath Falls and Winnemucca.
This time around we found ourselves in a couple of unenviable driving situations. The first was the approach to Bend from the east during what felt like an interminable sunset. We encountered perhaps fifty miles of new asphalt, which had not been painted with any lines, crossing a terrain of black basalt headed directly into the sun. Everything was black and shiny except for the intense brightness of the sun. I focused on a U-haul trailer ahead of us and followed the silhouette. If they had left the road I would have followed right behind them. The other was on the way home from the Oregon town of Lakeview to Winnemucca in Nevada. That is not a pleasant road. Tight turns with steep drop-offs and no shoulders for almost a couple of hundred miles. Don’t ever go that way.
Our time in the Lincoln City area brought us to most of the things we do there which I’ve discussed in my description of last years trip. This time I went with video instead of taking photos and put together a video of the entire trip. Our run through the wine country and brief stop at the Portland rose garden were also similar to earlier trips.
One place we visited along the central coast which we hadn’t last year was Heceta Head Light near Florence. I had been there once or twice before. This time turned out to be a bit of a miracle because we left Lincoln City in dense fog, drove all the way through Depoe Bay, Newport, and past Cape Perpetua also in dense fog. Then just moments before arriving at the lighthouse the fog cleared completely for what was the best light and views of the entire trip. The lighthouse, bay, highway 101 bridge, beach and keeper’s house are an exceptional grouping strewn out slightly along the coast.
We also had a celebratory dinner at a favorite restaurant, Tidal Raves, in Depoe Bay.
The high-desert crossed on the way to Bend struck me as similar to the basin and range of Nevada to the south with similar nondescript towns, small rivers through dry sage and rabbitbrush with green irrigated fields pocketed against bends in the rivers, and here and there rows of long-ago planted trees lining the road and separating the road from the irrigated fields. We covered most of that ground in good light before the rough sunset.
I didn’t love Bend as did my traveling companion. I’ve been curious about Bend for a long while because it was, in a way, a companion to Park City as both rose up to become higher-end, fru-fru western towns from rough-around-the-edges origins. Mining in the case of Park City and logging in the case of Bend. Bend and Park City found spots on the covers of outdoor magazines at around the same time in the 90’s and naughts. Park City did pass through a period of perfection and I’m guessing that Bend did as well. This was my first visit to Bend. Recently Park City has limited access to hiking trails around the town using very high parking fees or downright elimination of trail-purposed parking at the trailheads in and around the city. On arrival in Bend I noted that trails there required permits. Both Bend and Park City have the feel of rustic affluence. Stuff is built well and there is a similar aesthetic in both places. The vibe is post-California. As if Santa Barbara went remote and headed for the hills.
I did enjoy a couple of things about Bend very much. One was the way the Deschutes river is integrated into the town with several recreational parks of different purpose along the river. There are gentle spots where people float on inner-tubes and others where folks kayak and surf. The second thing is the incorporation of food trucks of various fare, live music, and large open areas at local breweries. It is a nice way to allow folks to enjoy some time out with dogs and kids without breaking the bank. This is a page right out of the New York finger lakes playbook. The weather was ideal when we were there and I started a long series of 14,000 step days which continued until calamity near the end of the trip.
Before leaving Utah we both selected a couple of spots in Oregon which we wanted to add to our itinerary before and after our time with the kids on the coast. Mine were Silver Falls State Park near Salem and the Samuel H. Boardman State Scenic Corridor along the coast near the California border. Hers were Bend and Crater Lake National Park.
We stopped briefly at Silver Falls State Park between Bend and the coast. Dogs aren’t allowed on a big section of the important trail there which passes by or under ten waterfalls. I did get an impression of the park and did hike a short piece of the main trail and caught views of one of the falls with the pups. It is a Civilian Conservation Corps product of the 1930’s and possesses a lot of the qualities, that I tend to love, of those places. It also feels like any of dozens of places in upstate New York. The number of similarities between Oregon and New York is really quite remarkable. We’ve noted that the park has inexpensive cabins available which allow dogs so will be returning with the intent to spend more time next year. The drive into the park from the highway between Bend and Salem is fun as well. It winds through a lot of rolling hills past planted fields, orchards and old barns and farm houses. Different agriculture, but more or less upstate New York again.
We passed through Salem, after the chunk of Lincoln City time, on on our way to the southern coast at Reedsport. While on the road between Salem and Gold Beach where we spent the night I noted perhaps two hundred log trucks and large patches of clear-cut in the coastal mountains. I’m not sure whether this new intense logging is a product of changed attitudes at the Federal agencies, an approach to the extensive fires that now plague the State, or perhaps have always been ongoing. I doubt the later. As a child I spent large amounts of my summers in northwestern Montana where almost all of the windows in most of the towns held placards that read, “This Family Supported By Timber Dollars”. So my feelings are complicated. Large stands of desiccated and insect damaged trees just waiting to burn are in my opinion not a good thing.
Once on the coast again we moved quickly past cool, wet and foggy places intermixed with breezy sunshine. I left with a strong sense of wanting to return. Places where we stopped included Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area, Umpqua Lighthouse, William M Tugman State Park, Bullards Beach State Park, Coquille River Lighthouse, Cape Blanco State Park, Port Orford, Gold Beach, and the Samuel H Boardman State Scenic Corridor. For what it’s worth, Cape Blanco is the westernmost point in the contiguous United States. We didn’t spend as much time at any of these places as we would have liked.
In the late 1980’s we moved from New England to Park City and started to spend a lot of time in southern Utah. Early on it was Moab more so than other places. When we first started going there it was a small town that had seen better days. There was still an Atomic Motel derivative of the uranium exploration days. The setting of the town was, of course, the appeal. Then there was a Mountain Dew commercial which changed everything. It identified Moab as a mountain biking destination nationally and internationally. Mountain biking was a new sport that caught on like wildfire. Suddenly Moab was a recreational boom town. One day I arrived and the place along the Colorado river where I had been camping was being converted into a large government campground for RV’s and only for RV’s. Shortly thereafter, inspired to find an alternative, I discovered the canyons of the Escalante river and I left Moab behind. I spent a couple of decades in and out of the Escalante. I haven’t felt the same way about finding a new wild place until now and discovery of this section of the southern Oregon coast, in particular the Samual H. Boardman scenic corridor, has me excited to explore.
There is, I think, a lot in common between the Escalante canyons of Utah in the early 90’s and that part of the Oregon coast today. Many of the towns aren’t in the best of shape. Everything is remote. The wild lands can be dangerous and require a serious attitude. Trails aren’t marked and cairns have been kicked to protect the best places. The busloads of placid tourists haven’t yet arrived, nor the myriad motels to accommodate them, nor has the fatal moniker of national monument been applied. The exceptional beauty is almost everywhere and uncrowded. I am excited.
Unfortunately I am not the same person I was in the early 90’s. On one hike in the Boardman corridor I headed down a trail toward the water and then descended a six-hundred-foot sand dune to get to a cliff’s-edge with a good view of a large rock arch above the water. On the way back up I tore a calf muscle and had to hobble most of the way back. After that I was kaput. I could barely walk on flat ground with a walking stick. It was worth it. Aging sucks. There is something to the idea of sticking with the equivalent of Paris sidewalks after a certain point in life. But I haven’t lost the will to hike in rough country. I’ll be back to the southern Oregon coast.
We headed south into northernmost California and then followed a gorgeous river-road back into Oregon to the town of Grants Pass. It is, I think, the sort of place where I could spend some time. It had the feel of Park City during its best days. It didn’t hurt that we found a city park next to the cool edge of the Rogue river on a warm evening where there was an Eagles cover-band concert, which was pretty good, and food trucks and beer trucks and a woman from one of the beer trucks who came over now and then with a fresh beer so that I didn’t have to hobble and wince. Another aspect of the charm of Grants Pass is the bears. Park City had a multitude of hand-painted statues of Moose. Cincinnati had pigs. Elko, cowboy boots. Other places, other things. Grants Pass has bears. I’m fond of bears. But alas we had run out of time and needed to move on to Crater Lake after only an evening.
Crater Lake National Park is an interesting place. It is remote. It is elevated. The lake is one of the most beautiful lakes I have ever seen. But it feels a bit antiseptic. Very clean, very tidy and removed from interaction with the visitors. There is only one trail that connects the road along the rim and the lake. This is due to be closed for two years at the end of this season and one of the reasons we decided to visit when we did. We had intended to do the hike, but I was out of commission. It is the kind of place that everyone should see once, but I’m not sure I need to see it again. It also was the end of a long trip. So we headed to the town of Klamath Falls and left for home the next day via Lakeview and Winnemucca. And as I said above, the road between Lakeview and Winnemucca, just don’t do that.
