Oregon Coast Day Two - Harbor Seals, Old Growth Forests, Clear Cutting, and Dunes - April 16, 2011

Harbor Seals
Yaquina Head Outstanding Natural Area

Yaquina Head Outstanding
Natural Area

I am out the door by 9:00am, headed to Yaquina Head Outstanding Natural Area. It is 49 degrees. Fog sits low and a heavy mist blankets the world. As I enter the park, I smile at its name. Apparently the person who named the park was pretty impressed by its treasures. I head first toward the lighthouse. The largest lighthouse on the Oregon Coast, it was first lit, I learn, on August 20, 1873 and is a functional light to this day, though now it is automated and no longer in need of attendants. Just below the lighthouse I discover steps that lead down to the rocky beach. Indeed, the beach is composed entirely of dark blue, almost black, oval rocks, called cobblestones. Some of the stones are as large as my fist. The rocks are composed of fine-grained basaltic lava, created when the lava was chilled and cooled quickly. I am delighted at my find.



Cobblestones

The fog is so thick that I cannot see very far. I note various shapes and sizes of sea stacks beyond the beach, but I cannot see far. Signs tell me that there are also tide pools in this area when the tide is low. However the tide is rising at present and I am unable to find any accessible pools. In the absence of a view, I am struck by what I hear instead. Above the roar of the ocean I hear birds calling. And as the waves ebb and flow, they jostle the cobblestones, which strike against each other, sounding somewhat like wind chimes that are made of both metal and wood, a quite pleasant tinkling sound.

I head down from the bluff to Quarry Cove. As I look across the cove, examining the broken vertical basalt that makes up the hillside, I am startled to see - harbor seals, reclining on rocks in the middle of the cove! Harbor seals! I am delighted. I have never before seen harbor seals. I am surprised at their coloring. I had always thought of seals as being dark grey or black. But these seals are varying light shades, and are spotted and mottled. They are quite funny looking, with short little fore-flippers, long heavy bodies, and short little feet set close together, looking barely functional.

I learn that seals, along with walruses and sea lions, are called pinnipeds, from latin words meaning winged feet. Harbor seals weigh 250 - 300 pounds. They have no ears, just round faces with large eyes. Closest to me is a rock upon which ten or so recline on their sides. As I watch, the water rises with the incoming tide, and they jostle for position. New seals climb on as some slide off. I can hear them talking, some making a groaning noise, some what sounds like a honk. I am fascinated.
 

I spend about an hour watching the seals - taking dozens of photographs as I do. There is no one present but me, probably a result of the early hour and the rain. The seals are aware of my presence, and one or two regularly gaze directly at me. But I am far enough way that they do not seem afraid. I am struck by the innocence in their faces. While watching them trying to position themselves on the rocks, I think that they must be among the most innocent, and most defenseless, creatures on the planet. I know they are quite agile in the water, I see them moving swiftly through the water even now. But they have no hands or feet which can grasp, and they cannot easily move while on land, can only bounce along on their bellies. Fortunately they are protected by the Federal Marine Mammal Protection Act. I change positions, take more photographs. A cream-colored seal continually checks back with me. I feel a connection taking place.

When we acknowledge that all of life is sacred and that each act is an act of choice and therefore sacred, then life is a sacred dance lived consciously each moment. When we live at this level, we participate in the creation of a better world. ~ Scout Cloud Lee

Seal Rock

It is now past 11:00, and I must move on. Just below Newport I find Yaquina Bay Lighthouse, followed by Seal Rock.. At Seal Rock, the sand is a deep orange color. The rocks jutting up are made of vertical slabs of basalt such as that which I had seen at Yaquina Head, though all seems to be crumbling.

  

Yaquina Bay Lighthouse

Just south of Seal Rock is Driftwood Beach, a wide sandy beach below some dunes. There are no rocky hills in this spot.  I am in a tsunami zone once again. I watch a very happy dog walk his people along this beach. I had been told that the coast was much prettier below Newport, and I am finding this to be accurate. I move on.

Driftwood Beach



Cape Perpetua - Cades
Cove Trail

Cape Perpetua - Devils' Churn

Soon I find Cape Perpetua Scenic Area and the Suislaw National Forest. At 800 feet, the Cape Perpetua Headland is the highest point accessible by car on the Oregon Coast. Sitka spruce forests can only grow within three miles of the coast, as conditions further inland are too hot and dry. Cape Perpetua is considered a rather unique ecological area as the temperate spruce rainforest transitions down to the sea. Trails take one from the parking areas along Hwy 101 down to the ocean as well as up to the top of the mountain.  I wander the Restless Waters Trail from the overlook of Devil’s Churn - where waves boil through narrow opening in the rocks - down to the beach, then pick up the Cave Cove Trail, a little over a mile and a half of hiking through a Sitka Spruce Forest. 

When I return to my car, I discover a road that spirals to the top of Cape Perpetua.  It is a ghostly drive through foggy forests. When I head back down, I notice a side road with a sign indicating "One lane road with turnouts." Oh, it is always hard for me to resist those one lane roads up and down mountains and through forests . . . The decision is made quickly, I turn left.  I find myself traveling through mixed countryside that brings a conflict to the fore and affects my ability to enjoy the areas of beauty I see.

Between sections of old growth spruce, Douglas fir, and Western hemlock I find myself driving through areas in which the forest was clear cut many years ago - and never re-planted. The hillsides are scarred, with stumps ranging from inches to a foot or more jutting from the ground. Short grasses or shrubs grow amid soil quite bare in areas. The hillsides are ugly.

I wonder why clear cutting? And why were the forests not re-planted? Who determined that savaging the land in such manner is okay. Seeing the land so damaged causes me pain. It hurts even worse as I drive through the old growth stands. Trees here are 150 feet or more tall. Trunks are massive. The undergrowth is thick and rich. White trillium are blooming.  The canopy stretches across the road, with trees intertwined. These are the trees which were cut.

White Trillium

I keep driving east, wondering where I’ll end up. I’m not sure exactly where I am. Signs at a trailhead indicate that I am on Forest Road 55. But my map does not show this road, so I’m not sure where I’m headed. The road turns from paved to gravel. Then the road worsens, as the dirt beneath the gravel is chewed up. My best guess puts me 8 or more miles from Hwy 101.

I keep going. I am curious. And soon I find myself in woods that are currently being harvested! Branches and small logs from cut trees are piled together, feet high. But it does not appear that in this area clear cutting is taking place. There are bare areas amid trees left standing. I am confused. I thought I would feel better. But I don’t, as I realize that the best of the trees, the largest, the most majestic are the ones which have been harvested. Complexity.

I begin to question our need for constant consumption of wood products, for lumber. I recall the many places I have visited, homes made of redwood and cedar. Is it worth raping the land in this way to have log homes? What about furniture? Complexity. I know from reading that these practices, both clear cutting and selective cutting, not only kill the trees but damage the land in various ways. They also affect entire ecosystems. Complexity. It hurts. I turn and head back. I need to seek out beauty once again.  But I know these questions will not leave me. I know I will be faced with these sites and these conflicts again, particularly over the next several days.

Cape Perpetua - Gwynn Creek

Just south I discover the Gwynn Creek beach area. This area is stunning, quite stunning. There are no people here. Where are all the people? I have the beach to myself, and I walk for a bit, savoring its beauty.



Cape Perpetua - Gwynn Creek



Then I discover Strawberry Hill Wayside, where I find more seals on rocky outcroppings. These are further away than were the seals at Yaquina Head. But I can hear them. I move on, and I discover Washburn State Park. I pass signs indicating elk can now be found in the area.


Heceta Head Lighthouse





Strawberry Hill Wayside
Harbor Seals









Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread wthin it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.  ~Chief Seattle

I discover Heceta Head Lighthouse. The Heceta Head Lighthouse is purportedly haunted. Its ghost is Rue, wife of an assistant light keeper in the 1890's and mother of a young girl who drowned. Rue committed suicide and has haunted the Heceta Head Lighthouse ever since, looking for her lost daughter. Complexity.



Oregon Dunes National
Recreation Area

Just south of Florence I discover the Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area. This area is fascinating. According to educational material, the dunes stretch 40 miles from Florence to Coos Bay. Some dunes tower 500 feet above sea level. Though fifty years ago the dunes were bare, grasses have begun growing and the dunes are now comprised of mixed ecological areas.  On the east

Oregon Dunes National
Recreation Area

side of the dunes, a natural wetlands has begun developing.

Some areas in the park are open to offroad use of recreational vehicles. Some are closed, for foot traffic only. These are the largest expanse of coastal dunes in North America. I question, should we allow off highway vehicle use? Complexity. Five marked trails allow one to cross the dunes on foot to access the ocean. I hike up a trail to the top and survey the expanse. Once again, there are no people here. Where are all the people? It is not cold. It is no longer raining. The land is beautiful. I am fortunate to be able to see it like this.

I am exceedingly tired at this point and find myself bypassing parks, wanting to "bunk in" for the night. I think my fatigue is as much emotional as anything else. I am a bit overwhelmed by all the beauty I have seen, satiated at this point. I am overwhelmed by the amount of forest destruction I have seen. And I am overwhelmed by the complexity of the issues I have contemplated. I head to my hotel in Coos Bay and turn it all off for the night. I don’t even eat dinner, just crawl under the covers. Tomorrow is another day. I will start again.

Donna

April 16, 2011