I took Ollie for a lovely long walk amongst the dunes on the beach at Yaquina Bay. It reminded me a lot of family walks on the beaches at Wells-Next-The-Sea in Norfolk, England. It was a brisk walk and a brisk day. Ollie decided she wanted to dig to China, so I cut those shenanigans short by luring her away from her excavations with the wave of a stick. It worked. She had a great run. 

I had the ulterior motive of photographing yet another Oregon lighthouse, the Yaquina Bay Lighthouse, blinking out over the bridge and bay. It was not as flashy ('scuse the pun) as the Yaquina Head Lighthouse a few miles up the road, but it had its own diminutive beauty.

Ollie and I left the beach when my cheeks and nose turned pink and I could no longer feel the tips of my fingers.

On the way back from Depoe Bay, we took a back road to Cape Foulweather. I just love that name. It sounds like a Rik Mayall superhero, right?

The towering basalt cliff jutting out into the Pacific Ocean was actually named by Captain James Cook on his third voyage around the world. He discovered it on March 7, 1778. The weather was particularly vile that day with winds of over 100mph, which are not uncommon in the area.

Captain Cook's March 7, 1778 journal reads:-

A northeast facing promontory with a small visitor center at the top called The Lookout, was a perfect place to whale watch. Using their binoculars and looking out of the huge windows at the back of the building, with a view to die for, we finally got to see some gray whales on their migratory journey. Spectacular!

Depoe Bay is advertised as the World's Smallest Harbor so I immediately had to quibble with that title as I have personally seen much smaller harbors, both natural and man-made in Cornwall, England; Mousehole, Port Isaac,  Charlestown for starters.

It was certainly a quaint little fishing town. We hoped Depoe Bay's other title, the Whale Watching Capital of Oregon, would live up to its name. As we drove in to town over the arched concrete bridge we immediately saw the whitewashed, one and half story structure that was home to the Whale Watching Center. Located right on the edge of the ocean, perched on the rocky shoreline, almost like the base of a lighthouse, it had huge windows in the large octagonal observation room and an open air observation deck on the roof,  facing out towards the ocean, allowing visitors to comfortably observe the migratory journeys of passing whales directly from the shore. 

We parked facing the ocean and I immediately made my way to the Whale Watching Center to use the toilet. Henry commented once again that I have the bladder of a hamster.

Staffed with knowledgeable volunteers, complimentary binoculars and loads of information about whales and other marine mammals, I took some time staring out to sea, scanning for whales. None had been seen that morning. A white board with local weather, tide times and updates on what had been recently spotted, was most useful. 

I learned that from the observation deck, a wide variety of whales had previously been spotted, about 1200 individual sighting per year;  humpback, gray, minke, even orcas and blue whales had been spotted along with an assortment of dolphins, porpoises and of course the more common sea lions.

Unfortunately, we did not see any marine mammals that day.

We cheerfully walked through the town and Kim bought his now famous grey beanie. It rarely leaves his head and is reminiscent of the headgear worn by Joe Pesci in the movie Home Alone. If ever we are invited to a fancy dress party, Kim and Henry could definitely go as the two bandits, Harry and Marv from that movie. Haha!  "Keep the change ya filthy animal!"

There was a variety of souvenir shops, galleries and many whale watching tour outlets. The sea looked pretty choppy and we watched one boat take a good half an hour slopping about from side to side, lurching this way and that, seeming to make no progress at all at one point,  as it made it's way under the bridge, through the narrow channel and finally out to sea.

We decided that we would not go out in a boat. Henry is afraid of sharks anyway. Cue the Jaws music!

Just a few pics of downtown Newport.

Most memorable were the barking sea lions putting on a show worthy of La Scala.

Ripley's Believe It Or Not! More of that later.

And the magnificent Yaquina Bay Bridge, a metal green arch bridge spanning Yaquina Bay. It is possibly the most recognizable of the iconic McCullough Bridges on the US101 Highway on the coast of Oregon. 

 As we approached the end of our stay in Florence, the dense sea mist continued to rise and mingle with the grey drizzle, draping a big wet blanket over us. We were forced to acknowledge that we were in the midst of the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, and of course the endless rain, making it a typical Autumn in Oregon. We embraced it. It made a happy change from the beating heat of the Arizona desert that we had endured for two decades and more.

The colors of Fall were all around us. The leaves fell from the skeletal branches of the trees surrounding us at the campsite, bright, burnt oranges, sunny yellows, mottled greens and chestnut browns carpeting the ground. If we were lucky enough to catch a leaf as it danced and helicoptered to the ground, we held it close to our hearts and made a wish. We could smell the campfires of our neighbors and it prompted us to make our own fire. . We stood with glazed eyes watching the blaze glow in the half light, listening to the spitting flames lick at the wet logs, watching our breath make its own morning mist with every deep sigh, sinking our hands into the pouches of our hoodies. We started thinking about soups and stews for dinner. Every season has its own treasures.

With Henry settled for the day sorting out his latest Pokemon cards that he had picked up at Fred Mayer, Kim and I set out to find Sweet Creek Falls, a famed local beauty spot, recommended to us by the locals in town.

We followed the twists and turns of the Siuslaw River, eerie in the mist. We spied a fairy tale Hansel and Gretel wooden cottage, smoke rising from a stone chimney, a wrap around porch with weathered adirondack chairs positioned for the best view of the river, and a little jetty with a gently bobbing boat, with oars at the ready, at the bottom of the garden. We spotted an elk or two raise their heads as we drove by, lazily watching us from the grassy banks of the river. There was hardly any traffic and we drove in silence enjoying the stillness of the day.

We made a sharp right turn and drove about ten miles or so following Sweet Creek to reach the signposted trailhead.

Well, words cannot adequately describe the quintessential Autumnal scene before us. The colors of the leaves carpeting the path, the waters of the creek with the swirling pools and gentle falls, the surrounding woodlands, dark and deep with promises to keep, was simply idyllic. 

I hope the photos convey the beauty of the scene. We really need Willy Wonka smell-o-vision so we can close our eyes and fully inhale the woodsy smells of the dripping, damp ferns, the tiny lichens and impossibly green mosses, fallen branches, leaves mulched into the muddy ground and the fresh scent of the sweet creek. A true sensory experience.

We walked a five mile round trip on leaf littered pathways, zig-zagging wooden bridges and slick river banks. It was heavenly!

​Breathe it in!

The awe-inspiring Oregon coastline continues to surprise.

Today we headed even further north, hitting central Oregon and Cape Perpetua. The cape was given its name by the British explorer, Captain James Cook, who first saw the headland in 1778 and named it after St. Perpetua the patron saint of peace, perfection and motherhood. 

Inland there were dense forests of impossibly tall Ponderosa Pines, Western Hemlocks and mature Douglas Firs. Low lying wizened Sitka Spruce, shaped and gnarled by high winds and salty sea spray, clung to the bluffs on the towering 800 foot headland jutting out into the Pacific.

The Cape Perpetua Scenic Area covers over 2500 acres of coastal habitat. We were particularly interested in checking out the marine reserve made up of reefs, rock pools, chasms, caves, beaches and unusual rock formations.

To begin, we headed toward's the parking lot at The Devil's Churn. There was a great viewing platform to the north of the lot. We had timed it to perfection as the waves were relentlessly rolling into the deep, narrow chasm below, creating a dramatic churning effect in the water. The swelling waves took on the form of a whipped vanilla milkshake, all milky and frothy, as they surged up the channel, crashing chaotically against the sides of the steep rocks in all directions. The chasm probably started out as a narrow fissure in the volcanic basalt bedrock, or perhaps a collapsed lava tube, and then the violent power of the ocean, terrifying and majestic, pounded its way through, creating a crack in the rocks that could lead down to the Devil himself. We could clearly see how The Devil's Churn got its name. 

We then made our way on the trail down to the lower ledges to get a closer look where we could not only see the strength of the battering ocean against the rocks, but taste the salt in the spray, hear the rolling roar of the waves, and feel the curling swirls of air displaced by the churning water. It was dark down there and a little scary being that close to the untamed power of nature.

We continued round the edge of the opening of the chasm where it met the Pacific and suddenly there were calmer waters and huge rock pools to explore. We found large green sea anemones, ochre starfish, urchins and sea slugs. It was astonishing how the raging chasm was adjacent to the peaceful pools.

Kim stayed to watch the churn a little longer and Henry and I continued to play in the pools. Henry was keeping a beady eye on me and any potential sneaker waves after the Ophir Beach fiasco. He was being very careful and very protective. Very sweet.

Eventually Henry headed off to find Kim and we all lost track of each other. We eventually met up by the truck and headed into Yachats, smack dab in the middle of the Cape.

Yachats was a charming gem of a town. The name Yachats, pronounced Yah-hots, comes from the local native Siletz language and means "dark water at the foot of the mountain." Apt! We parked just past the cove, by a huge whale tail sculpture, on the side of the road. 

We took a leisurely walk through town in the sunshine, stopping at the Little Log Church built in the 1920's. It was undergoing some renovations and the museum was closed so we kept walking, mooching around the shops, enjoying all the sculptures of multicolored sea lions on every block corner. There was fantastic rock, crystal and gem store that took a lot longer to explore. Eventually it was time for lunch and we ate at a lovely family owned diner. 

After lunch we spent time at Thor's Well, Cook's Chasm and The Spouting Horn. Back on the rugged, rocky shoreline, the ocean was throwing up huge waves of spray as it hit the rocks and pools. There were many gullies and chasms slicing through the rocks where the ocean boomed into underwater caves. It was a wild and dramatic landscape. Literally breathtaking.

We spotted Thor's Well, a sinkhole-like feature where the ocean surged beneath the rocks and found its way up and out of a bottomless bowl in the rocks. Every surge and spatter of the rhythmic ocean making its way over and under was spectacular. I practiced taking photos on my iPhone using long exposure to create a flowy effect. I love playing with photos like this.

Nearby was Cook's Chasm, named after the British explorer, another deep narrow gully, but much shorter and without the deep, gorge-like sides of Devil's Churn. The chasm flowed under the concrete arches of Cook's Chasm Bridge, allowing the trust US101 Highway to wind its way through the lower rocky ledges of the cape.

The huge waves rolling into Cook's Chasm carved underwater caves out of the basalt rocks. We could hear the water roaring and reverberating, pounding and crashing with echoing booms. A smallish hole in the rocks above the underwater caves created an outlet for the pressure below, creating a geyser-like fountain of sea spray, like a pressure cooker releasing steam. In my imagination it was a fire-breathing dragon snorting sleepy smoke out of its nostril while curled up in its subterranean cave. Like Smaug. It is known locally as The Spouting Horn.

We stayed for a long time and enjoyed being hammered by the forces of nature.

We began to lose light so we hiked back up to the truck and set off back to the Trailer.

What a phenomenal, memorable day!

The next stop on our Grand Adventure took us to the Heceta Beach RV park in Florence, Oregon.

The first few days after we arrived were wet and windy and so we had an enjoyable time hunkered down in the trailer with Kim working the stock market, Henry catching up with his gaming friends online and I settled down to read my beloved Kindle. I am reading Eleanor Elephant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman. I am also making my way through the futuristic "In Death" murder mysteries by JD Robb. Lovely to just snuggle down with a cuppa tea and a warm blanket and just read. It's November and we are heading towards winter. I can feel the change in temperature and pressure in the air. I've been noticing the trees losing their leaves and the last of the summer blooms falling by the wayside. It is such a lovely change from the desert and I love settling in to each new season.

On the very next dry day, we headed in to town to explore the arty downtown area of Florence.

Lying at the mouth of the Siuslaw River, you enter Florence by passing beneath the expansive concrete double rainbows and ornamental art deco pillars of the Siuslaw River Bridge making a stunning backdrop for the downtown area with expansive views of the river and the bridge. The bridge is an iconic symbol of the city. Designed by Conde McCullough, opened in 1936, the key feature of the bridge is the double leaf bascule in the middle that lifts to allow clearance for fishing boat traffic. Along the banks of the tidal river, snowy plovers, a variety of sandpipers, blue herons, white egrets, cormorants, gulls, songbirds and other birds I couldn't quite identify, provided wonderful entertainment with their stooping, whooping and swooping. A lady in the crystal store told us she had even seen a couple of orcas chasing seals down the river and into the harbor last summer.

In the harbor we could see the halibut boats and signs for fresh local crab. We could hear sea lions barking somewhere in the distance. The tang of salt in the air made you lick your lips and yearn for a bag of chips wrapped in butcher paper with lashings of salt and vin, just like we would get on the seafront back home in England.. 

We spent a leisurely hour or two walking the main street, popping in and out of the shops that seemed to lean towards local crafts and art work, chatting with the friendly locals and enjoying the ambience of the riverfront. 

The sky turned a grisly grey and we felt the first spots of rain that quickly turned into a downpour. While Henry and I huddled under the awning of a nearby gallery, Kim dashed back to pick up the truck to collect us. We headed back to the trailer for an early dinner of Kim's special homemade chicken curry. Delicious!!!

Best. Curry. Ever.

​❤️❤️❤️

After my never-to-be-forgotten baptism in the Pacific Ocean at Ophir Beach, we resumed our trip along the Oregon coast between Gold Beach and Brooking exploring the Samuel H. Boardman State Scenic Corridor, stopping at all the stunning view points and marveling at the ruggedness of the coastline and the iconic sea stacks and lone islands, the eroded remnants of jutting headlands and geologic uprisings; Buena Vista, Cape Sebastien, Meyer's Creek, Pistol River, Whaleshead, Lone Ranch and of course Natural Bridges Viewpoint.

There are nearly 2000 sea stacks and small islands to be found in Oregon creating a magical, almost mysterious visual panorama. They are part of the Oregon Islands National Wildlife Refuge and are protected as they provide a critical habitat for thousands of birds and shore life, some rare and endangered. The rocky ledges are favored by seagulls, guillemots and cormorants which we could see at almost every stop. We also saw brown pelicans flying by in a V-formation, looking very much like prehistoric pterodactyls. The stacks are also home to  bald eagles and peregrine falcons who find fish and food aplenty in the pines and in the ocean. We are excited to see tufted puffins further up the coast. I keep my binoculars in the truck and take time to try and spot the birds.

After a few stops, we drove on to the Natural Bridges. We stopped and made the short hike over to the viewpoint to see the natural sea bridges, carved by eroding waves. We did not make it down to the beach or the bridges as the trail was wet and muddy from the previous day's downpour. It was so slick and steep it would have been easy to slip down the face of the cliff. We did not want to risk it, even though it was a beautiful day, the conditions just didn't work out for us.

One of the best features of the Pacific Northwest is how the pine trees butt right up to the edge of the ocean creating the most picturesque views where land meets water. We saw the very best of that today.

We had passed by The Trees Of Mystery, just outside Klamath in the far north of California, on our way up Highway 101 to get to Crescent City. You could not miss the giant fibreglass statues of Paul Bunyan and his beloved pet, Babe the Blue Ox standing in the well manicured gardens of the car park to this roadside attraction.
​
We were excited to visit. When we arrived, we took our time walking around the huge statues and acquainting ourselves with the story of Paul Bunyan, the famed giant, plaid-jacketed, big booted, lumbering lumberjack of North American folklore, and his pet Blue Ox, Babe.

It was fitting that Paul Bunyan and Babe stood there welcoming us to the Trees of Mystery as the history and traditions of logging and particularly the carving of large hunks of wood into works of art was told as we walked along the interpretative trails.

I was actually familiar with Paul Bunyan. In the movie Fargo, a carved, rugged statue of him is glimpsed covered in snow as the murderers pass through the North Dakota town in the dead of winter. In fact I can't think of Paul Bunyan without also thinking of one of my absolute favorite actresses, Frances McDormand, in her Oscar winning role as Marge Gunderson in the movie.

You betcha!

I am also familiar with the iconic "Muffler Men" molded out of fiberglass, inspired by Paul Bunyan, that stand in gas station forecourts along my beloved Route 66 and other slightly decrepit byways in North America. Originally, the first 'Muffler Man" was created to carry an axe, appropriate for Paul Bunyan, but later the axe was replaced with the giant fiberglass man holding a muffler, tire, huge wrench or some other car related object as an advertisement to draw customers off the road to take a break from their journey, stop for some food and for some car maintenance. You can read more about the "Muffler Men" in my Route 66 photographic journey through Arizona.  You may need to scroll down until you arrive at the Flagstaff photos and the pics of the giant men. Check it out here.

Once upon a time the original folk tales Of Paul Bunyan began with American loggers sharing exaggerated stories around cosy campfires of a giant axman who could fell tall trees with a single chop. Their tales became embedded in to local lore, bringing awe and appreciation to the hard logging work they did across America, with their own sweat, spit and bare hands.

The loggers' stories of Paul Bunyan, strong and handsome with a chiseled jawline, over seven feet tall, with a stride of seven feet in length, striding across the plains, through the forests, doing the work of many were passed down, mouth to mouth, in the honored tradition of folk tales. According to their stories Paul Bunyan carved the Grand Canyon with his axe, created the Great Lakes as a personal drinking bowl for Babe, and if you keep a careful watch, you might be lucky enough to see Paul Bunyan riding Babe like a cowboy. Oh yeah!

At 49 feet high, the statue of Paul Bunyan at the Trees of Mystery is the tallest statue of the folklore hero in America. The stuff of legends! 

We made our way to the trails and spent a happy day meandering through the wide variety of trees, almost like a tree exhibition, crowded together for our enjoyment. One of my favorites was the ancient giant Redwood named the Brotherhood Tree.  It is one of the largest and oldest living things on the planet. It was named in hope for the brotherhood of man. It is over 2000 years old, 19 feet in diameter, 60 feet in circumference and 297 feet tall. Wow! We were awestruck standing next to a living entity that had been growing for much of recorded human history. We also enjoyed the Candelabra Tree, Elephant Tree and Cathedral Tree. 

Henry spotted Bigfoot, banana slugs and a giant mosquito.

I loved the "I love you" sign.

We had enormous fun bouncing our way along the 100 feet high aerial netted suspension bridges and platforms in the canopy of the Redwoods.  Of course Henry and Kim jumped as high and hard as they could (as if they were in a lift!) on the ropey bridges to make us all jiggle and giggle. Even the kids were laughing at us! Fun!

Henry grabbed my phone and took these lovely, flattering shots. Anyone else have a family member who takes daft pics?

Next we headed for the Skytrail where we took a gondola up the forested hillside, about 1/3 of a mile and 1,570 feet up, through the tallest of trees with a spectacular view at the top where you could see the Pacific Ocean glinting in the distance and incredible views of the Klamath River and back country. At the summit there was an observation deck called Ted's Ridge, where we took in the panoramic vistas.

We finished the day touring the most amazing Native North American Museum. After the Heard Museum in Phoenix, this has to be my favorite museum of tribal artifacts. It was truly incredible. More about the museum in my next blog post.

​This was a memorable day and once again, the trees were the stars.