We managed to get out to the Devil's Punch Bowl State Natural Park twice while we were in the area. We stopped off very briefly on our way back from Depoe Bay, but we immediately knew we had to go back and explore the huge and cavernous Punch Bowl.

We arrived on a warm, Spring day and Kim and Ollie headed to the overlook, so they could look out and into the Punch Bowl. There were signs saying there was some kind of dangerous algae in the tide pools that could possibly poison pets who made it down to the beach. We didn't want to risk it. 

Naturally carved out of rock creating a huge craggy bowl that fills through a series of caves and tunnels at high tide with violently churning ocean water, swirling, foaming and frothing, a Devil's brew, the Punch Bowl is a powerful and raging expression of nature. When full, it's scary to see. When empty, the rock pools in the basin appear deceptively calm and forgiving. 

Henry and I set off to the beach to find a way across the tide pools at low tide as we wanted to make it all the way in to the Punch Bowl. The rocks were slippery with bright green, almost moss-like, seaweed and tiny barnacles that had been battered and smoothed over time, but we managed to chart our way forwards. Henry was checking for those pesky sneaker waves the whole time. He always has my back.

Once we made it into the bowl, we could see the beautiful colors inside; the deep reds, browns and greens. It was dark and echoey and the sound of the waves lapping at the entrances was amplified. It would be easy to outstay our welcome and get caught in the incoming tide, to be mercilessly tossed around like playthings in a baby's bath.  

We waved up at Kim and Ollie who were up at the rim of the Bowl, then took our time to explore the geology of the huge cave. We clambered from one rock to another, taking our sweet time to explore the rock pools. It would have made a terrific concert venue as the acoustics were marvelous.

Still nervous about the time and the tides, Henry prompted me to retreat so that we could join Kim and Ollie at the top of the headland. Once we reached them, we took a short walk heading southeast to get a view over Otter Rock and the beaches that stretched out towards Newport.

​Breathtaking.

Our interest in visiting all the Oregon lighthouses had not wavered, so we set off to explore the Yaquina Head Lighthouse, just north of Newport.

Built in 1873, the tall, stark, black and white lighthouse was originally called the Cape Foulweather Lighthouse, even though Cape Foulweather was at least 4 miles north of Yaquina Head.  At 93 meters tall, it is the tallest lighthouse in all of Oregon. We watched carefully to catch the pattern, 2 seconds on, 2 seconds off, 2 seconds on, 14 seconds off, of the Fresnal lens, casting its light out to sea.

It was a windy day and the waves were crashing on the rocks below the lighthouse. There are daily tours of the lighthouse but we didn't get to go inside as all the tours were fully booked that day. We enjoyed a blustery walk along the lighthouse trail, spotting some seals and sea lions basking on the rocks in the shelter of a hidden cove to the south of the lighthouse. 

We dropped down into a small and sheltered cove, called Cobble Beach.

Cobble Beach Cove lived up to its name. It was made up of smooth, large cobble stones infinity shades of grey  that lay evenly scattered across the beach. Not a speck of sand in sight. Kim parked himself in a  little heat trap with Ollie to enjoy the late afternoon sunshine.

The cobbles were made for turning ankles, so I very carefully made my way to the nearby tide pools that had children and adults bent over in deep crouches, fingers draping into the pools, small excited outbursts declaring finds of jewel-toned treasures in the clear waters. Henry was watching me and the tide like a hawk, making sure I was safe and not about to be carried out to sea by a rogue sneaker wave, which nearly happened on our last visit to the Oregon Coast. He was genuinely concerned.

​We spent a happy couple of hours relaxing, napping and dabbling about in the tide pools.  We found glossy deep red/purple anemones, some in full flower, some curled tight inside themselves looking like large juicy wine gums. Aggregating anemones looked like delicate pink dahlias waving in the water. We saw snails, ringed limpets, periwinkles, trumpeting tube worms, hermit crabs startled in to walking sideways, striped crabs and flat bodied crabs, shiny mussels glinting blues and silvers, gooseneck barnacles, sea cucumbers, sea slugs and horned nudibranchs.  

I had two absolute favorites. The first was the huge Ochre Starfish. It was enormous! It was a rich shade of dark ochre with lots of knobbles along its fat arms. One of them almost filled a tide pool by itself. Clinging comically to the rocks with arms akimbo, I couldn't help but name him Patrick. My second favorite was the striking Giant Green  Anemone. It too was gigantic in terms of tide pool proportions. A bright, almost luminescent lime green color, you could spot them from quite far away. When fully opened, they were massive, their tentacles waving hopefully in search of algae and micro plankton.

As we were beginning to lose some heat from the sun, after having taken a gazillion photos, we headed back up the steps, out of Cobble Beach Cove and back to the truck. 

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!

Sisters do indeed rock!

I am fortunate to have two wonderful sisters, an older sister, Louise, and a younger sister, Caroline. I am piggy in the middle. We are very close and I love them dearly so I am always drawn to locations that celebrate sisters, particularly three sisters.

The first occasion where Louise, Caroline and myself found ourselves in front of a rock formation called The Three Sisters was in the Blue Mountains, just outside Sydney, Australia. This is a very hazy photo of that moment taken in 1977.

So I was delighted to happen across Sisters Rock State Park in Oregon just north of Gold Beach and our campsite at Honey Bear By The Sea, where we stopped for some quick pics of three rocks sitting out in the Pacific Ocean, called the Three Sisters.

​I took a happy moment to send love to my sweet sisters and all my family back in England. Lovely xxx

There are three waterfalls on the McCloud River by the small town of McCloud, California; McCloud Lower Falls, McCloud Middle Falls and McCloud Upper Falls.

After getting lost in the car park at the Lower Falls Trailhead which is almost ridiculously impossible to do, and then walking a good mile in the wrong direction, we finally made it back to where we started and found the trailhead to the Lower Falls, a couple of steps away.

Kim and Henry wish for me to put in a disclaimer here...

I solemnly swear that I was up to no good.  It was me, Laura Barnes, and me alone, that led us in the wrong direction. Henry clearly said he could hear the waterfalls in the opposite direction. Kim clearly said he knew we were going in the wrong direction. Alrighty then. Mischief managed.

At the Lower Falls the McCloud River tumbled through moss covered rocks, ferns, and overhanging trees in a beautiful picturesque-picnic setting, cascading into a deep pool of clear water where we could see the fish swimming in shoals. A fisherman stood on the banks and we saw him catch a flip-flopping rainbow trout that was as big as his forearm. Even from the distance we were standing we could see the trout's pink and green iridescent coloring and its silvery underbelly. The fisherman immediately packed up and left, happy with his catch. Henry had fun dodging all the bees as there must have been a hive nearby. He is paranoid about bees following him, so Kim is always tickling him on the back of his neck with a long stick and frequently makes buzzing noises. Family fun!

Next stop, further upstream, was the Middle Falls. The cascading water from the narrowing river brought the drama! The mist created lots of rainbows in the air which added to the magical atmosphere. We hiked down to the bottom of the tall falls and we had fun playing in the pools and clambering over rocks to get a better view. Not so many bees at the Middle Falls but plenty of dragonflies!

Lastly we stopped at McCloud Upper Falls, at 50 feet, the tallest of the three waterfalls. It was a hidden gem. With a single sleek drop, splashing into a horseshoe shaped pool, it felt private and intimate, a natural wonderland in the heart of the Shasta-Trinity Forest. We hiked down the river and around the rim through the fragrant pine forest, catching glimpses of the pristine wilderness beyond.

Although these waterfalls are not protected in an official Californian State Park, they. absolutely should be. The three waterfalls were stunning!

There are only a few places on this beautiful planet that are inextricably linked with a single person, to the point where you cannot even think of one without thinking of the other. They are  energetically entwined and bound with the fine, silky threads of deep respect and utter devotion. Mount Everest and Sir Edmund Hillary, The Lake District and William Wordsworth, Gombe and Dame Jane Goodall, Walden Pond and Henry David Thoreau. For Yosemite, it is the naturalist, John Muir. No one has described the vast beauty of Yosemite, championed for its protection and impressed upon the world the necessity of such a place to reveal the connection between man and nature, like John Muir. 

If you have been to Yosemite, you know that words just cannot do it justice. It is nature's cathedral. It is a place that has to be felt and experienced. A place to bow down in reverence.

So of course, I have to begin with some descriptive words written by John Muir himself to describe this spectacular National Park.

The drive at dawn to the park from our campsite just outside Groveland was twisty and turny with panoramic vistas, sharp drops and skeleton forests burned to the bones, trees like living zombies standing tall, black at the roots and ghostly gray at the tippy tops. In the early morning mist it was a little apocalyptic.

Through the tunnels, then down in to the valley,  we stopped and started to take in the sights of Bridal Veil Falls, the Merced River, the looming gray sentinel that is the fearsome granite El Capitan, the sharp edges of the Three Brothers and then Half Dome, like a huge ship with its stone sail at full mast, sailing down the valley in the distance.

We parked and set off for a short hike to Yosemite Falls. Henry and I had come prepared, wearing our swimsuits, ready for a dip in the icy waters. Because we had arrived so early we were amongst the first to be at the Falls and we had a good hour to ourselves at the pool where the Falls gather in a deep overflowing granite basin before their final tumble down to the valley floor, feeding the lush meadows with fresh water. Our time at Yosemite Falls is already etched in my memory. Henry's huge grin and utter joy of being right there in the moment, in the glorious sunshine, with the spray of the waterfall hitting his face, scrambling over the rocks and taking a dip in the icy pool, was exhilarating. I will remember our time there forever.

Finally, at lunchtime our grumbling tummies dragged us away and back to the truck where we had our picnic lunch near the Visitor Center and of course we got our National Park cancellation stamps.

In the afternoon we hiked out to Half Dome, past the Ahwahnee Hotel, along the Merced River. We tried to spot the intrepid hikers heading up the rounded granite rock to the top on the 18 mile round trip via the Mist Trail, a feat completed by my brother-in-law Simon many moons ago. The long day hike now requires a National Park permit. What an incredible view of the valley there must be from the top! I did watch several YouTube videos of the demanding hike, so I could get a glimpse of the panoramic view. 

Seriously, words cannot express the magnificence of this colossal National Park. I tried with all my might to view it through the eyes of John Muir. I not only wanted to see its timeless beauty but feel that deep soul connection with nature in my core. 

I believe I did.

These photos were taken over several days in the Park.

Just a quick one night stop at the Pacific Dunes RV Resort in Pismo Beach in central California but even though we arrived mid afternoon, we could not let the day slip by without a quick trip to our beloved Morro Bay to see the sea otters.

We have visited Morro Bay a few times now, including earlier this year. It is such a special place for wildlife, we all love it!

We arrived late in the afternoon, driving through some moody sea fog to get there, and were delighted to see the sea otters frolicking in the bay. The sea otters love the kelp sea forests of the deep central Pacific coast of California. We loved watching the otters play right there in the misty, sheltered bay, close to shore, bobbing, diving, lazily swimming on their backs, some of them were in groups called “rafts,” nibbling at food, cracking open clams, crabs, sea urchins and other undistinguishable shellfish. Sea otters are the smallest of all marine mammals and they are agile and quick. They can dive up to 250 feet for their food, using their whiskers to locate their prey in tight crevices and then using their strong forepaws to dig them out. We saw one otter using both its teeth and a rock as a tool to crack open its dinner. A joy to observe.

Even though Morro Rock is a haven for birds including the endangered peregrine falcon, it was so quiet and still, we only saw a couple of gliding pelicans, a few seagulls who were surprisingly quiet and some cormorants in the distance.

We stood and gazed out towards the shrouded rock for ages, taking in the sights, sounds and salty smells of the magical bay.

Not wanting to cook after a long day of travel, Henry suggested we stop at In N Out Burger for dinner. So we did. 

From a distance we saw the Queen Mary, another of our favorites. We have so many happy memories on board, particularly with my dear cousin Pippa and her family when they came out to visit, a good few years back now. She swears she met a ghost on board after getting lost on an upper deck. The ship has definitely got spooky vibes!

Happily, we found somewhere else for lunch in the nearby Marina.

Later we went on to Cabrillo Beach where we lazed around for the afternoon. It is one of my favorite beaches in the LA area as it is a hag stone beach. Hag stones are sedimentary stones found on beaches, rivers or lakes, that have naturally formed holes in them. They are believed to have magical, protective properties that ward off negative energies and are sometimes called Witches Stones or Fairy Stones. I had a relaxing afternoon mooching amongst the rocks happily finding the hag stones. 

Later we went to enjoy the sunset, fly our kites and enjoy the Korean Friendship Bell at Angel's Gate Park, up on the hill, overlooking the Pacific. Another easy breezy evening.

Back in 2008 when Kim had his sabbatical from Intel, we set off in the old Sunset Creek trailer for a 2 month road trip up Highway One in California. One of our most favorite stops was Morro Bay, so we were excited to revisit and make new memories. 

Here are some pics from back in 2007 ❤️

And here are the pics from 2023 ❤️