Mom and Pastor on Edge

Last Stop on Highway 101: Seaside, Oregon and Finally Seattle

And there it was ahead of us, the end of our drive on Highway 101. Before we exited off the coastal highway, we stayed in Seaside, Oregon, just north of (and much cheaper than) the quaint city of Cannon Beach. 

At Cannon Beach, we did what a person simply must do and walked along the shore to Haystack Rock.

Now, this is embarrassing to admit, but assuming all things Goonies (historic movie) happened in Astoria, Oregon, I did not realize this was the rock from the final scene of the movie until later! A total “well, duh”; moment for me. So we did not fully absorb the awesomeness of being at the site of a historic movie scene. But it was still spectacular! 

We spent the night in Seaside at a motel that we drove up to with our fingers crossed, hoping for better luck than we had in Crescent City. 

Whew! We were in luck! The motel was nothing fancy, but there was a clear effort on the part of the owners to make this a hip place, splashing color in ordinary places and uniqueness in ordinary corners. I would definitely recommend the Coastal Motel in Seaside. 

At this point in the vacation, Marcus and I had spent more consecutive time together than we probably ever had in our life together! At dinner, we chatted over a few questions that popped out at me one day on Pinterest. These are the ones that were the most interesting to ask each other: 

“What is the first thing you would do if you woke up tomorrow as the opposite sex?” 

“What would you say is your greatest success?” 

“What is your biggest regret?” 

“What would be your ideal job if resources were not an issue?” 

As we celebrated the past 15 adventurous years of marriage, we had time to do things together like laundry and grocery shopping, things we do separately and hurriedly in real life, as opposed to vacation life.  

After staying in Seaside, we drove about 15 minutes north to Fort Claptson, where Lewis, Clark, Sacacagawea, and all of the Corps. of Discovery wintered.

It is a historical site that is simple and to the point. There is a replica of the fort where the 33 people stayed from November to March, waiting for the winter to be mild enough to travel back east and report their discoveries. 

From there, we were ready to hit the interstate, going from Astoria, Oregon to Longview, Washington. 

In Longview, we would eat one of our favorite food discoveries: the prime rib grilled cheese. (Insert, Homer Simpson drool and drooling noises.)  

And then onto Seattle, the last stop of our adventure, where we would spend two days.

                                            Seattle Mariners versus the St. Louis Cardinals. 

                        View from our hotel room, with the Space Needle off in the distance.

And by the end of those two days in Seattle, we would be very, very ready to go home, but perhaps not as ready as the grandparents watching our kiddos! 

                                                                                            

                                                                                                                   THE END

My Favorite Stop on the Pacific Coastal Highway

Shortly after leaving the Redwood Forest, we also left Highway 1 to embark on Highway 101 for Oregon. 

Before leaving California, we stopped at the very touristy drive-through tree near Leggett. We drove through the tree. It cost us $5 and almost as much in gas as we waited in line. 

But hey, we drove through a tree! 

Next, we made it to Newport, Oregon, my favorite stop on the Pacific Coastal Highway. Earlier this year, I discovered my very favorite beer of all is a hazelnut ale made by Rogue Brewery. This is a brown ale that could be confused for a not-too-sweet dessert. Newport is where it all began. I was very excited to go to the source of my favorite beer. 

We did not tour the brewery because, just as I am glad my computer works and I do not need to understand every details about how that happens, it is not necessary for me to see how my favorite beer comes together in a bottle. I am just glad it does. 

What I did discover at Rogue Brewery was a splash of chocolate stout added to my hazelnut ale does the unthinkable: it makes it even yummier! 

We also ate at a fantastic restaurant called Georgio’s, as well as enjoyed a spectacular view of the ocean from our room at the Shilo Inn. In Newport we did everything we wanted to do on this vacation: enjoyed the coast, enjoyed great food and beer, and slept in. The perfect trinity. 

“…to the Redwood Forest. This Land Was Made For You and Me.”

The greatest gift Crescent City gave to us was a quick entrance into the Redwood Forest. Following the advice of reviewers on Trip Advisor, we went to Jedediah State Park. For a meager $8 parking pass, we took a walk on a breathtaking trail. 

I was really excited for Marcus to see the Redwood Forest. He is a nature guy with a deep knowledge of trees and plants, and an appreciation of God’s creation. Like a lot of places, you can read about the redwoods and marvel at photos, but it is an entirely different thing to witness the dimensions of these trees! 

Not only the trees themselves, but how they cohabitate with the ecosystem they exist in. 

For example, this is a tree stump with enough nutrients to grow another tree out of its deadness. 

This tree that fell over some time ago is feeding the ground as it decomposes. Marcus was counting the tree rings and supposed this tree to be about 900 years old! 

To walk through this forest was nothing short of absolutely stunning. You cannot fully describe the aroma of it all. Imagine a combination of dirt, wet bark, leaves, and campfire.  

Our walking path took us to this shallow stream, filled with perfectly clear water.

The beach along the stream is all smooth rocks of every size. Someone before us had written her name in rocks, while someone else created a rock snowman!  

The Redwood Forest was one of our very favorite stops, right up there with our next one. 

The Adventure Continues: One Place to Stop and One Place to Avoid

Planning a trip to a faraway place is made easier by www.tripadvisor.com. You can see pictures of and read comments about hotels, restaurants, historical sites, and all other attractions. Of course, you have to try to be objective about people’s reviews, asking questions like, “Was this sunny review written by the great-aunt of the owner?” and “Is this reviewer crabby that the rain is wet, too?”

After Muir Beach Overlook and lunch at a little town not far from there, our next stop was in Point Arena for the night. The Wharf Master’s Inn looked pretty cool online. Luckily, it was pretty cool in real life, too!

Perhaps every coastal town has its story, and Point Arena is no exception. (Photo of Marcus below)

In 1913, a sparse crew of 15 young men from Japan chartered a 15-meter fishing boat across the Pacific Ocean. The monument on the coast recalls their adventure this way: “Entrusting their dreams and hopes to a compass.”

On the Tuesday night we “docked” at Point Arena, we ate at one of the two restaurants open in the small town, gathering with the locals. Marcus, more the extravert than me, stuck around after supper to take in the culture as the local fisherman drank and chatted. He did decline when one of them invited him to their table for a birthday celebration!

The next night, my luck with Trip Advisor was, well, not so lucky. A camera can do remarkable things in a motel room with a skilled eye behind it. When we reached Crescent City, California, with its stretch of uninviting motels, things looked grim.

And grimmer still when we pulled up to the motel I had thought looked alright on Trip Advisor. When we opened the door to our room…we bravely entered and assured each other it would only be for one, single night.

However, Crescent City, too, has its own story. This little “city” has survived not one, but two tsunamis. Not only that, but it has a phenomenal little restaurant called Marlins that serves delicious Italian and Mediterranean food, including a wicked chicken parmigiana and a scrumptious cannoli.

But beware of the motels. And tsunamis.

A few more photos...

                                                     (love that selfie-sunglasses reflection)

What You May Need that I Needed on Highway 1

The Pacific Coastal Highway begins south of San Francisco, but we decided to begin north of San Francisco on Highway 1. If you are anything like me, do not attempt to ride or drive on this road without some motion-sickness medication.

This part of the adventure was nearly too adventurous for me. I spent the entire trip on Highway 1 doing what anyone who goes through motion-sickness knows to do: even though Marcus was the driver on this stretch, I kept my eyes on the road ahead of me! You do not, I repeat, you do not want to be in a hurry on this highway! There are more twists and turns on this 180 mile stretch of road than there are on all the roads in North Dakota put together and multiplied by two.

The most beautiful thing I learned throughout our adventure on the Pacific Coastal Highway was the interconnectedness of the world. Parts of this highway look like Wisconsin, with lush trees and happy cows grazing on hills. Other parts are beachy, like I would expect California to be. And still other parts resemble North Dakota, with endless seas of grass, not water. The mountain passes felt like Needles Highway in South Dakota, or Bear Tooth Pass in Montana.

John Muir, a legend on the Pacific Coastal Highway, said something similar. “When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the Universe.” The beauty of the few parts of this giant earth that I have seen is well-represented and interconnected on Highway 1.

Muir, along with several other conservationists, convinced the federal government to preserve spaces for national parks at the start of the 20^th Century. Such an act took away from production of things like lumber in the Redwood Forest, and grazing space for animals. It was a radical move that took so much foresight it is a miracle it happened at all.

There is a beach overlook named after Muir not far north of San Francisco, where both photos were taken. It was Marcus’ and my first glimpse of the coast away from the hubbub of San Francisco. There was nothing to get in the way of the unrefined and glorious view of the Pacific Coast, rugged and rocky and none-too-gentle. On much of the coast we saw, the waters are cold and angry, its waves pushing their way from the ocean to carve their presence into the sand.

Thanks to John Muir and others with his determination, these views are unadulterated and there for all to enjoy.