Seaside, Sunsets and Treehouses

The next morning we were up bright and early to continue our trip, we left Sandlake campground i.e. ATV central and set off on the open road! It was George’s turn to drive today so I got comfy in the passenger seat. Before too long we reached Pacific City, which gave us our first opportunity to walk along the beach. Whilst it was sunny the wind was strong and bitter, with the sand being whipped up around our feet. There were a few surfers and incredibly hardy children playing along the waters edge. 

We went to dip our toes in – I foolishly thought it would have warmed up as we went south – it was absolutely freezing! Almost immediately my feet went numb. So we padded back across the gorgeously soft sand to our car, all the while debating whether to walk up the giant sand cliff just to roll down it. 

We decided against and just watched people for a while, before jumping back in the car and heading off. Pacific City had a lovely feeling with driftwood buildings, surfer shops and little houses sitting on the edge of the beach.

We carried on along the coast admiring the view of the rugged coastline which was just amazingly dramatic or the way that the sea and sky went on forever, never quite meeting just blurring into different shades of blue. It’s an awe-inspiring feeling, knowing that there’s nothing out there for thousands of miles.

We kept stopping at ‘Scenic Viewpoints’, which are many and often along Highway 101. The sea would be smashing against these dark cliffs with such might that spray would come flying into the air, and the days were clear so you could see for miles down the coast with bays and capes only slightly obscured by the mist thrown up by the wind and sea and sand.

We passed through Lincoln City which had that touristy Blackpool feel to it so didn’t bother to stop. One place we did stop was called ‘Devils Punch Bowl’, apparently at high tide when waves come crashing they are funnelled out of this hole in a massive turret.

Unfortunately it was low tide, but we did glimpse a couple of fins out in the distance, the couple next to us with binoculars said they were definitely whales! Probably Grey Whales which range from California to the Arctic.

Another incredible thing about the coast were the rock formations, for instance one place was called Seal Rock and to the right there were these jagged sharks teeth, whilst to the left was this massive face that looked like it was a fossilized molar from some long dead giant monster!

We stopped for lunch in a little town called Yachats where we ate in a family diner and had Clam Chowder, our first taste of this typical American Dish. We both really liked it, but I wasn’t prepared for how thick it is! Nor the little saltine crackers that go with it.

After lunch we stopped for a little walk along a beach. The whole stretch coastline is essentially beach and as we picked one that was in between towns it deserted, just us, for what seemed like miles and miles. Once again the sea was freezing it hadn’t warmed up over the last 75 miles; but I couldn’t get over how beautifully soft the sand is there, I assume its thanks to the super powerful waves rolling in off the sea.

Our next scheduled stop was the Sea Lion caves; it’s a cave that’s 30 storeys tall and filled with Sea Lions. They perch on tiny protrusions of rock, as they battered by waves and spray, all the time braying so loudly you can barely talk to each other above the din.

That’s not to mention the smell, which was just disgusting; combination of fish and unwashed animal. You would’ve thought that mammals that spend half their lives in the sea wouldn’t have a cleanliness issue but there you go. We took the elevator back up to the top of the cliff, and as we walked along you could see loads of Sea Lions swimming amongst the waves, slithers of brown in the blue green. As we neared the next viewpoint you could hear them before you saw them. They were all crowded together on a ledge, just a couple of males surrounded by 10s of females, around about a hundred in total.

After sensory overload we jumped back in the car and carried on heading South. We didn’t stop much after that, conscious that we wanted to reach our campsite in time to watch the sunset.

We whistled through Florence and past the signs for ATV rides on the dunes, until we came to Coos Bay where we stopped for groceries as just past there was our campsite; Sunset bay campground in Cape Arago State Park. We arrived about 7 set up and decided to head straight to the bay so as not to miss the big event.

It turns out sunset wasn’t until about 8:45, but we just had a pleasant evening on the beach, George went off and explored the rocks and played around with the camera whilst I enjoyed the sun and the sheltered nature of the bay and read my book.

All quite lovely. About 8:20 the event kicked off in earnest, people started coming down with coolers full of beer or setting up giant cameras, the sky started to turn orange. George and I tried and failed to guesstimate when it would actually happen.

It was beautiful though, we’d sat right in the centre so that the bay perfectly framed the setting sun. As it sunk down we could see the silhouette of the waves crashing on rocks right in front, and George bet with me that when it set finally people would start clapping and cheering, personally I didn’t believe that people would clap an every day piece of nature. However George was right after it had all set and we were left with a pink sky and blue sea the group of guys to our left burst into a round of applause whooping and cheering….

We headed back to the tent and soon realised our error in eating post sunset. We only had torch light by which to cook. Not ideal. So we heated up our chilli, again! This chilli had lasted us far longer than we’d anticipated. Quite frankly I was getting very bored of the whole thing. Anyway after our meal with incredibly romantic lighting – the stars – we headed off to bed.

As we packed up the next morning George found a little Loki figurine that became our travel buddy. It was my turn in the drivers seat and George already mucked up giving me directions in the first 5 minutes as we accidentally started heading back North.

Eventually we embarked on another 200 miles, Friday was to be our last day in Oregon as later in the day we crossed into California. Before that though we stopped at the Cape Blanco Lighthouse, which sat on a cape that stuck out further than most so the views were incredible, but the wind was vicious it whipped around my face so that it was impossible to see.

We also stopped for a beach break, which was once again deserted and beautiful. We indulged in a bit of rock climbing and George had a paddle in the sea, disobeying the safety rules and turning his back on the sea... tut tut.

We passed through Bandon without stopping, just focused on reaching the Californian border It was weird how much the landscape started to change as we reached the Golden state, the fields yellowed, the trees were taller, the coast more dangerous. No more long deserted beaches, sharp drops and cliffs into the sea. We headed into the Redwood State Park, astounded by the heights of the trees. We paused momentarily along a river bank where families were having an All American Family outing with BBQs, music kids playing in the river whilst teenagers floated along in tubes. It was warm and beautifully idyllic.

Eventually we found food, as we stopped in Crescent City at a Dennys, a full on American diner. Full of salt and sugar with a calorie menu besides the food one, I did not feel particularly healthy that day. However it was sustenance which we needed to get us to the campsite.

We took a scenic route through the Newton B Drury Scenic Parkway, which was lined with redwoods. A beautiful windy road that was a dream to drive.

We reached the Elk campsite, which didn’t have any redwoods but we did have to sign a disclaimer in case we got trampled by some Elk. This evening we decided to have a fire which warmed us as we cooked our final meal of chilli – in the light this time – and watched the sunset through the trees.

Unfortunately we didn’t see any Elk but there plenty of mosquitoes, who swarmed our tent, and a plethora of frogs, during twilight the ground moved with every step as frogs jumped away. After sunset we roasted marshmallows over the fire, and entertained ourselves by throwing them in to watch them puff up and burn blue.

Saturday was day of the Redwoods, we were setting off to the Avenue of the Giants, a 30 mile stretch just off Highway 101, completely lined with Redwoods and tourist shops. Our first stop was in Pepperwood at the Immortal tree which is 1000 years old and has survived lightening, flooding, fire and the loggers axe.

Next to it was a beautiful shop that sold gorgeous handcrafted furniture, unfortunately it was all a bit too big to fit into a rucksack. We also saw the eternal tree house café that used to be in the trunk of tree, but has expanded outside. The info leaflet lied!

We also perused a thrift store, which is obviously George’s favourite pastime. We detoured off the route in search of the ‘Giant Tree’ – 53 ft circumference – after 30 minutes driving we reached the start point for the 10 km round walk.

Once again thanks info leaflet, so unfortunately no giant tree hugging. To be fair though I’m not sure I could get my head around a tree that big, most of them are so huge you can barely see the top or begin to wrap your arms around them.

Next stop was the Dyerville Giant, - 375 ft tall, 52 ft in circumference - which after 1600 years fell down during heavy rain in 1991. It was pretty sizable. George stole a little bit of wood that had fallen off, shhh don’t tell anyone.

Now for a seriously touristy moment when we drove through a tree!! Admittedly it was a pretty tight squeeze as I got out to guide George through, with just a couple of inches on either side of the wing mirrors. Not often you can drive through a tree though.

After a pizza break sat outside this lovely café, where people came to pick up a takeaway on horseback, where headed off out of the trees and back to the coast. Following a windy mountain track that had George taking massive twists and turns at a pretty steep gradient, after an hour of sun dappled roads we came out to the coast which was even more impressive having not seen it for a couple of days. I spent my entire time admiring the view as we entered and left Tsunami Hazard zones.

We drove through Fort Bragg, and I waited in the car sympathising with the dog next door as George got Beer and Groceries. After another hour or so we reached Manchester, our last Campground that sat on a cliff in a sparse woods. The campsite itself was ideal if you’re a family with small children full of family activities like karaoke and ice cream sundae making! For us however it was a bit OTT, we bought some wood and settled down to enjoy our last nights camping.

After dinner we went out to the cliff to watch the stars. They were beautiful and being out from the city lights meant that there were a multitude, with the milky way clearly marking its place in the sky.

Washington to Oregon

On Tuesday morning we headed to Hertz to pick up our car for the Roadtrip to San Francisco! Our vehicle was a Kia Soul, quite a beast and in such a delightful colour too. 

We headed off along the grey I5 under the grey clouds, pretty quickly I was used to the righthand side of the road but not the fact that everyone drives at the speed limit! So there we were at 60 making our way down through Washington commenting on things the car pool lane and how you only need 2 people for it to count, I personally was all for three or more. Or the numerous ads that adorn the roadside and the extremely verbose road signs. Our aim was to head to Mt St Helens so that's what we put into Google Maps and after about 2 hours we  headed off the freeway and followed a tree lined winding road that seemed to be heading towards the mountains. After half an hour the houses had vanished and the road was starting to disintegrate, after another 15 minutes later the phones lost any semblance of signal and we had no idea of where we were. Despite our thinking that Mt St Helens was a relatively sizable tourist attraction there weren't any signs anywhere, or tourists for that matter, we barely saw any other cars. Our one tiny thread of hope was the occasional sign pointing us in the direction of 'Lava Canyon', we thought it was a pretty good sign. George and I swapped over and we carried along the road until the towering trees disappeared revealing a landscape of scorched rocks and hardy bushes, with Mt St Helens looming in the background. 

There wasn't a visitors centre, we'd taken the wrong turning off the I5 and it was an hour back north of where we were, just a little car park. We bit and scrambled over the rocks for a bit until we were stood in the middle of what must've once been a river of lava, it was full of black porous rocks that had carved their way through the landscape. Mt St Helens was ringed by cloud so we couldn't see the top, but it did look quite dramatic. 

We made our way back to a little town we'd passed through called Cougar, there were a great selection of places to eat, the gas station or the diner. Weirdly we opted for the diner, but when we walked in it was like a scene out of a movie everyone went quiet and stared at us. A real small town experience for us then, after a quick burger & chips (with free drink refills!) we headed off back to the I5 for the next 2 hours to Portland.

On the way we stopped off in Walmart and were freaked out by the spreadable cheese section, the fact you got powdered drinks and in return I freaked out security guard by asking where the toilets were; he was initially disturbed by the fact I'd said the word toilet, and then directed me to where I could buy one. Ah culture confusion, always fun. 

As we headed into Portland the popped out to say hi so after we dumped our bags in the fanciest hostel I've ever been in we headed out for a walk. We made our way down to the river, where the sunset had turned everything a beautiful pinky gold. 

On our way back we stopped in at a craft brewery bar where we (illicitly for me) sampled some tasty beers. Portland is so hipster, but as a rather fortunate result is full of lots of independent bars, restuarants and shops, basically it's a pretty cool city. 

The next morning I went off for a run, and had an idea to go see the rose garden as I knew George would be fairly uninterested. It didn't look all that far on the map but what the map didn't day was that it was up a rather steep hill, anyway I persevered and had a great time running amongst the roses. There was a slight issue when I tried to leave, see it was a very big garden set in quite a large park, filled with very windy paths. After a while I found one that appeared to be going in the right direction, it even joined a road, very quickly it started going downhill at a pretty steep grade and as I turned the corner I saw it led to a dual carriageway. There was no way I was going back up that hill to work out a way back out the other side, so I ran along the dual carriageway at rush hour in the pouring rain on a tiny pavement. Well at least it was downhill. 

That morning we headed to Powells city of books, a bookshop so big it is spread across a number of buildings, all with multiple floors and you're given a map upon entrance. Essentially my idea of heaven, especially on a rainy morning. 

I had to limit myself to one book and persuade myself that spending a few weeks budget on one book was a bad idea. The rare books room was pretty special, a signed edition of the Silmarillion, a first edition of all 30 volumes of dickens and so many different of editions of Lewis and Clarke. 

It was amazing. We easily killed a couple of hours in there.

Now I really wanted to queue for doughnuts at apparently the best doughnut shop ever, Voodoo doughnuts, everyone was walking around with these pink boxes filled with sugary goodness. However grumpy George believed that 45 minutes was too long to wait, which is obviously a ridiculous sentiment. 

So we headed into a cafe to wait out the rain. We even asked our waitress what there was to do in Portland when it was raining but she replied 'oh we do all the things we do in the sun, in the rain' which was quite blatantly not answering the question. Fortunately the rain petered out, which allowed us to walk around and see a bit more of the city. After a  tasty lunch we jumped into the car, and headed off to the coast!

As we left Portland it was lashing it down, we joined the freeway heading West and started climbing up through the mountains that separated us from the coast. The forest was really dense as we wound our way through, but as we came through to the other side the land cleared, now the rain was impossible to see through. We had to slow right down, trying to work our way through Tillamook, a little town which we were aiming for. Given that it was a torrential storm we didn't get out to look around and nor were we interested in the cheese factory. So we headed onto the coast which was another 20 minutes West, as we reached It the clouds cleared and the sun shone through. We drove up to an 'Octopus tree' which we'd read about, and as we rounded one bend we got a first glimpse of the coast. 

It is stunning, so dramatic with these big dark cliffs and fragments of rock just off the shore, but also golden sandy beaches with big rolling waves coming in. It truly takes your breath away. So we drove up to the Cape and got out for a walk around, the octopus tree was not as amazing as we'd imagined, but we wandered round and watched the birds on the cliffs.

Generally just admiring the view.

We were pretty keen to take advantage of the lack of rain whilst setting up a tent so we headed off to find or campsite, google couldn't locate it but we had a vague idea. The drive along the shore was once again breathtaking and as we wound around we kept driving in and out of the clouds. We turned up at what we thought was our campsite, but it turns out it wasn't, fortunately the guard was very helpful and pointed us in the right direction. 

So we headed down the coast a bit further to ours which was decidedly less developed. We'd booked into an rv/atv park. There weren't showers, washing up sinks and only one water pipe that was down the road. It was also a popular destination for 'ATVs', we had no idea about this, so were a bit taken aback by the plethora of quad bikes driving past us as we were right by the access point for the dunes. At least we had a sandy bed, though George did think I was being ridiculous when I banished all traces of sand from the tent, personally I thought it was a sensible thing to do. We had dinner, lucky for us the rain held off, then we headed off for a walk down to the sea, only to discover that one couldn't. The dunes were dominated by the ATVs , and were so tall that you couldn't see over them all the while the quads would come flying over the top. Not ideal for a romantic walk.

At least the ground was soft.