The Oregon Coast Day One - Wind, Rain, Seastacks, and Rainforests - April 15, 2011



Arcadia Beach

There are no easy answers. Not to most issues of substance, I think. I ponder this thought as I head across highway 26 from Portland to the Oregon Coast. I have been attending the annual conference of the American Association of Suicidology. At the last session I attended, researchers and clinicians addressed the question of predictability, i.e., can you accurately predict that someone will make an attempt to take his/her own life? What factors might provide clues that such an attempt is likely to take place? What factors might provide clues that such an attempt is likely to take place imminently. Some in the room expressed a desire to develop an protocol, an instrument, some standardized means of evaluation by which clinicians can predict that an attempt is imminent. I shake my head. I do not believe it is possible. Human behavior is not so predictable.  I agree that human behavior is somewhat predictable sometimes. I know that there exist lists of signs and indicators that someone might be suicidal. But I also know that some persons may exhibit such behaviors and yet make no attempt. And I know that some persons who take their lives exhibit no such signs. I appreciate the desire of these experts in suicidology to prevent such tragic loss of life. But I also know that we will never be able to predict with accuracy either way. Human behavior is a complex weave of internal and external factors, some of which we can never be in touch.

I will think further on these thoughts as I explore over the next couple of days. I had recently been apprised of the words of H.L. Mencken, "For every complex problem there is a simple solution . . . and it is wrong."  I agree with Mencken.  I know that the older I get the less black and white I see.  I have also discovered that I prefer color - in all its complexity - vivid color. Yes, let me see color!

I have five days to explore and plan to use every minute of it.  I have never before visited the Oregon Coast but have been told that it is quite magnificent. Many persons have told me that it is much more stunning than the Washington coast, which I love. I know that when I peruse the map, the Oregon Coast looks like it is composed of one state park or recreation area after another, down the length of the state. How many can I visit?

Road to Seattle Mountain Natural Area

It is raining as I head out, but I am not disappointed. I know that cloudy and rainy days offer photography opportunities that are limited by sunny ones.  I think on complexity. Some wish always for sunny days and curse the rain. But I know that it is difficult to photograph the forest on a sunny day - there is too much interplay of light and shadow to fully see . . . I know also that colors are more vivid beneath the clouds and the rain, that too much light washes out color. I welcome the clouds and the rain.

South Fork Rock Creek

As I drive west from Portland, I drive through rolling hills, farmland, orchards - and Christmas Tree Farms! Christmas tree farms always bring a smile to my face.  Soon I find myself in Northwest rainforest, dominated by coniferous trees, Sitka spruce, Douglas fir, Western and Mountain hemlock, Western red cedar, and Lodgepole pine. It is early spring and the hardwoods interspersed among the evergreens - maples and spruce - are only just beginning to bud. Because of the high annual rainfall, these woods are marked by mosses and lichen growing on tree trunks and a ground cover of fern. These are seriously tall trees!  I am anxious to be among them. I look for pullouts or parks that will give me an opportunity to wander among them, smelling, touching, and seeing.  



Skunk Cabbage

I see my first deer-crossing sign. Another smile. It is 11:15, and it is 40 degrees. I enter the Tillamook State Forest. I see my first snow at around 1500 feet, patches at the base of trees. I enter the Clatsop State Forest. Finally I find a rest area at Sunset Springs. This one has a trail that winds across the South Fork of Rock Creek and through the woods. I explore. The banks of the creek are lined by gnarly birch trees. Signs indicate that this area has been hit hard by fires in the past. The trees certainly look lush today.

I continue on. Soon I see signs for the Seattle Mountain Natural Area. I make the turn. The picnic area and mountain itself are 7 miles from Highway 26, on a one lane winding road. At least it’s paved. The road undulates and curves, and I am "forced’ to drive only 20 or so miles per hour. I drive through lush, lush forest. I can see in the distance some areas that have been logged, badly, where the ground looks ugly and scarred. I know I will face strong feelings about logging while I am out here. But for the moment I am under dense canopy, so I put those thoughts away. Complexity. I cross the Necanicum River. I pass areas of standing water in which grow the pretty but odiferous, yellow skunk cabbage. Hah! I know that the root of this plant is food for bears, who eat it after hibernating, as a cathartic or laxative. 

Necanicum River



Off the Road to Seattle Mountain
Natural Area

Finally I reach the end of the road, which is the trailhead for the path to the top of rocky Seattle Mountain. Though I sometimes hike alone, I trust my intuition, and this isolated area does not feel safe today. So I turn around and head back. I enjoy the drive. I am in my element. And I suddenly find myself slamming on my brakes and skidding across the road, to keep from hitting the doe who has bounded up the side of the mountain from my left, crossed the road, and headed into the forest to my right. I sit for a few minutes to let my heart rate return to normal. I smile. My first wildlife encounter of this trip. I am in my element. And I travel on. I am passed by only two cars on the 14 mile roundtrip into this forest.

Arcadia Beach

I finally reach the coast at Cannon Beach.  I am excited to explore this area which has been recommended by several people. But I am disappointed. The beach is flat and surrounded by houses, restaurants, and shops. It looks not much different from beaches on the east coast. I move on. And soon my expectations are gratified. First Tolovana Beach Wayside Park, then Arcadia Beach. Arcadia Beach is what I have been looking forward to! Vertical columns of rock called seastacks jut from the ocean floor. Rocky hillsides stretch down to the sea. Small caves are cut into the rock at the beach level. Mountains rise one behind the other along the coast to the south. Yes!



Arcadia Beach

 I move on. The rain has intensified. It is hard to see very far. I pass signs indicating that I am in a tsunami zone. These signs carry more meaning than they might at a different time. The road turns inland. I pass signs for Cape Lookout. But the coast is too far away to explore those beaches this afternoon. It is late and I want to spend the night in Newport. I pass dairy farms. And as I enter the town of Tillamook, I pass the Tillamook Cheese Factory and visitor center. I note its presence for a future visit. It has warmed a bit. It is 3:30 and is 52 degrees.

 



Boiler Bay

Highway 101 winds along the Pacific once again. Though visibility is limited by the rain, I turn into Boiler Bay State Scenic Viewpoint. As I exit the car, I am buffeted by high winds and pelted by rain. I learn that the area is named for a ship that sank in 1910, the J. Marhoffer. Apparently one can see the ship’s boiler at low tide. I would have thought the park had been named after the boiling action of the ocean as waves bounce off the rocky outcroppings.

Boiler Bay

I watch ocean swells move in, one after the other, not just waves but swells, the ocean rising as it reaches land. Though I am thoroughly soaked below my jacket, I wander the edge of the cliffs, just to see what I might see. I am rewarded as I find a cave next to a waterfall which plunges into the ocean. As I return to my car, I smile at the dozens of gulls and the handful of geese that have settled on the grass in the parking area. The wind is too stiff to fly, and these guys hunker down.


Rocky Creek State Scenic
Viewpoint


Now I find Rocky Creek State Scenic Viewpoint. Here the wind is so ferocious that I am hit by foam being blown up from the shore. I endure it happily. I laugh as I pull into Cape Foulweather. This spot was discovered by Captain James Cook on March 7, 1778. It is the first geographic location named by Captain Cook as he began his exploration of the Pacific Northwest. Apparently it is not unusual for winds of 100mph to buffet this area. I think Captain Cook must have been here on a day similar to mine. I move on.

I discover the Yaquina Head Outstanding Natural Area. I note that this park is operated by the US Bureau of Land Management. I note a lighthouse high on a bluff. And I see signs for a rocky beach. But the rain is too heavy and the wind too stiff to explore this park this evening. I will return tomorrow morning.


Yaquina Head Lighthouse

Yaquina Head is just north of Newport, my stop for the night. I check in to the motel. Then I ask the desk clerk to tell me what is the best local restaurant - not a chain - in the area. She directs me to Georgie’s Restaurant. I dine on shrimp at an oceanside table (indoor) and I reflect on the day. I still have four to go. They promise to be outstanding.

Donna

April 15, 2011©