Sunset at Ragged Point

Rolling green hills dazzled our view on the east side, larger mountains behind them, with a mist of fog at the summit. The last rays of sunlight cast slanted beams and long shadows onto the landscape. 

To the west we had spattered views of the coast. I drove around a curve in the road when I spotted an area just large enough to pull over. Amidst the trees and scrub, I discovered a slit in the growth. I sent Jenna to investigate. Two minutes later she returned with a thumbs-up. It was doable. 

We entered the growth of trees and hiked on what could only be considered half a trail. In many places it was wide enough only for one foot with growth from either side covering the path. 

But the smells were incredible! A sweet flowery fragrance prevailed, but also the pungent scent of bark and pine needles. The breeze that blew off from the ocean and up and over the cliffs added to the bouquet. 

The trail felt as if it was solely ours, as if it were once used as a secret hideout years ago, but then abandoned and now rediscovered by us. 

We found an old fire pit, built of stones beneath a canopy of trees. It reminded me of a wooden cave⸺a perfect place to roll out sleeping bags, build a fire and listen to the crashing waves. 

We continued on our newly-found trail, which now opened up into scrubland atop a seaside bluff. Purple and yellow flowers grew on bushes that came to my chest. I walked with haste, knowing exactly what was coming. 

Then we arrived. 

Nature's beauty unfolded before us. We stood atop a blustery cliff and below us the Pacific Ocean stretched eternally toward the horizon. 

Waves systematically crashed into the rocks below. Distant sea-stacks and cliffs appeared as silhouettes. The sun now sat perfectly on the horizon as if she were waiting for us before dipping down. 

Rugged mountains stood in the north, their steep slopes impressive, even at this distance. Every hillside was a different shade of blue. 

All around was beauty and all I wanted to do was gather it up and put it in a bottle. Gales of wind came up from off the ocean, bringing an uncomfortable chill. Within minutes the sun was gone and that uncomfortable chill became more poignant. 

We enjoyed a few more minutes, breathing in the fresh air and taking in a sight that was seldom seen. We returned the way we came, but left our hearts at the bluff-top. ♠ 

 

Jenelle's picture with her phone.

 

Jewel by the Sea

"And God said, Let the waters under the Heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear: and it was so.  And God called the dry land Earth, and the gathering together of the waters he called Seas: and God saw that it was good." - Genesis 1: 9-10

"In the beginning there was no land or earth. There was nothing except salt water.  This covered everything like a big sea.  Two brothers lived under this water; the oldest was Teaipakomat.  Both of them kept their eyes closed, for the salt would blind them.  The oldest brother, after a while, went up on top of the salt water and looked around.  He could see nothing but water.  Soon the younger brother too came up.  He opened his eyes on the way and salt water blinded him.  When he got to the top he could see nothing at all, so he went back.  When the older brother saw there was nothing, he made first of all little red ants.  They filled the water up thick with their bodies and so made land." - From the Kumeyaay Creation story.

"Over the mountains,

And over the waves,

Over the fountains,

And under the graves;

Over the floods that are deepest,

Which do Neptune obey; Over the rocks that are steepest,

Love will find out the way."  

- Thomas Percy (Bishop of Dromore)

"On the following Tuesday, the 3d of the month of October, they departed from this port of San Miguel, and on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, they held their course a matter of eighteen leagues along the coast, where they saw many valleys and plains, and many smokes, and mountains in the interior.  At nightfall they were near some islands which are some seven leagues from the mainland, but because the wind went down they could not reach them that night." - From the voyage of Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo in 1542.

"We have seen Indians in immense numbers, and all those on this coast of the Pacific contrive to make a good subsistence on various seeds and by fishing." - Junipero Serra, Spanish Priest (1713-1784).

 

"Flowers were plentiful that spring because of the winter's heavy rains.  The dunes were covered with mats of sand flowers, which are red and have tiny eyes that are sometimes pink and sometimes white. Yuccas grew tall among the rocks of the ravine.  Their heads were clustered with curly gloves no longer than pebbles and the color of the sun when it rises.  Lupines grew where the springs ran.  From the sunny cliffs, in crevices where no one would think anything could grow, sprang the little red and yellow fountains of the comul bush." - From Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell.  

"This being the spring season, San Pedro, as well as all the other open ports upon the coast, was filled with whales, that had come in to make their annual visit upon soundings.  For the first few days that we were here we watched them with great interest, calling out 'There she blows!' every time we saw the spout of one breaking the surface of the water, but they soon became so common that we took little notice of them.  They often 'broke' very near us, and one thick, foggy night, during a dead calm, while I was standing anchor-watch, one of them rose so near that he struck our cable, and made all surge again.  He did not seem to like the encounter much himself, for he sheered off, and spouted at a good distance." - From Two Years Before The Mast by Richard Henry Dana, in 1835.

"We rode out to the Indians' huts.  The little children were running about the huts, stark naked, and the men were not much more; but the women had generally coarse gowns of a sort of tow cloth.  The men are employed, most of the time, in tending the cattle of the Mission, and in working in the garden, which is a very large one, including several acres, and filled, it is said, with the best fruits of the climate.  The language of these people, which is spoken by all the Indians of California, is the most brutish, without any exception, that I ever heard, or that could well be conceived of.  It is a complete slabber.  The words fall off of the ends of their tongues, and a continual slabbering sound is made in the cheeks, outside of the teeth." - From Two Years Before The Mast by Richard Henry Dana, in 1835.

"The country seems to be alive with cattle, horses, mules and jackasses.  Passing the San Luis Rey Mission we turned left and marched up a mountain, from the top we could see the ocean, we judged it to be about 5 miles away.  This was the first time I ever saw the ocean and it was the case of many of my comrades, all felt to rejoice to know we were so near the end of our journey.  In the evening we camped in a little valley near the seashore.  We could hear the roaring and dashing of waves all night.

"The whole face of the country is alive with cattle, bands of horses, mules and donkeys.  One of the guides said he knew one man who owns twelve thousand head of cattle.

"The earth is carpeted with green grass and wild oats and any amount of wild mustard and white clover.  I see some mustard stalks high as ten or twelve feet and six or eight inches thick." - From the journal of Henry W. Bigler, member of the Mormon Battalion, on January 27, 1847.

" . . . several very heavy gusts of wind came driving madly along, completely filling the whole atmosphere with thick and impenetrable clouds of dust and sand, so much so, that one who was in the street could no more see around him than if he was surrounded by an Egyptian darkness; this continued for a considerable length of time, the violence of the wind still increasing, until about one o'clock, when it came along in a perfect hurricane, tearing down houses and everything that was in its way." - From the Daily Alta California on the October 2, 1858 hurricane.

"For how many thousands of years did it lie alone? How long did the great gray waves batter at its granite shore, its sandy beaches, its clay cliffs? How long did it wait for men to come with their dreams, their ships?"- From Frontier by Louis L'Amour.

 

“The aisle of autumn sunlight settling on 

The mobile corrugations of the sea 

Fragments and forms at once, is here and gone, 

A durable, elusive energy: 

Pure presence and repose—mere lovely being, 

To feel which is as natural as seeing 

The dog that dashes up the beach and back 

Or, to a pair of onlookers' applause, 

Goes skidding to a posture of attack 

And leaps to snatch a Frisbee in his jaws.” - Poem by Timothy Steele.

“The wind dies, and the cloud Alps disappear, 

And where the sun now sets, the sky's so swirled 

With smokey colors that the atmosphere 

Seems like the abstract beauty of the world. 

The swells more regular, there floats at rest 

A pelican, long beak tucked to its chest.” - Poem by Timothy Steele.

"The sea lions felt it and their barking took on a tone and a cadence that would have gladdened the heart of St. Francis." — John Steinbeck

"All the wild world is beautiful, and it matters but little where we go, to highlands or lowlands, woods or plains, on the sea or land or down among the crystals of waves or high in a balloon in the sky; through all the climates, hot or cold, storms and calms, everywhere and always we are in God's eternal beauty and love. So universally true is this, the spot where we chance to be always seems the best." - John Muir

"Took my chances on a big jet-plane
Never let 'em tell ya that they're aw-ooh-all the same
Hoh, the sea was red and the sky was grey
I wonder how tomorrow could ever follow today-hee
Mountains and the canyons start to tremble and shake
The children of the sun begin to awake." - From Going to California by Led Zeppelin.

 

“Flashing between curved sea plants in the sand 

There darts a shining company of fish. 

Swirling through the sea's green depths they go, 

Gleaming like silver ripples in a pool 

That dance and sparkle in the moon's cold light. 

Then they are gone, as quickly as they came, 

And the wildly waving seaweeds move 

More slowly and at last are still once more. 

Now through the silent forests of the sea 

There slowly drifts in shimmering radiance 

A lustrous jellyfish. Suddenly, 

From pale pink opalescence swiftly changed, 

It turns translucent and is almost gone, 

Only to gleam once more, far off, against 

Black rocks where shadowy forms move hazily. 

There at last it melts into the distance— 

Ghostlike, drifting slowly out of sight.” - Poem by Everett Ruess.

Oregon Road Trip: 8 Days; 6 States; 2,362 Miles

This would be the longest road trip we had ever taken as a family. I was excited, but a little apprehensive about having to spend so much time in the car. It proved to be one of our most memorable vacations ever. We didn't do anything extraordinary—like go to amusement parks or baseball games. Instead we kept it simple and saw some stunning landscapes. Every day was an adventure! 

Mormon Crickets.

Plague of Mormon Crickets: Day 1; Middle of Nowhere, Nevada; 302 miles. This was one of the most disgusting things I had seen in my life! At first we thought dirt had blown onto the highway, but upon closer examination we discovered the dirt was crawling! We had to stop to truly get a grasp of what we were witnessing. All around us for miles—on the road, on the hills—crawled millions of crickets! It is interesting that they all seemed to be instinctively migrating the same direction. On the highway, many of them had been plastered onto the pavement by passing traffic (which wasn't much). It was a sight that had to be seen to be believed, and I was very grateful that I wasn't a pioneer trying to eek out a living and planting crops.

Austin, Nevada.

Ghost town of Austin: Day 1; Austin, Nevada; 340 miles. With the nickname of “The Loneliest Road in America,” it is no surprise that U.S. Route 50 is home to some quaint little ghost towns. Nestled among the foothills of the Toiyabe Mountains, Austin is an old mining town with lots of boarded up and empty buildings. In 1863, Austin boasted a population of 10,000 people, but now there are less than 200. We spent about an hour here, walking along Main Street, driving up to Stokes Castle, and roaming through one of four fascinating cemeteries.

 

Reno, Nevada.

The Biggest Little City in the World: Day 1; Reno, Nevada; 513 miles. This was our first time ever in Reno. I was excited to see what the mini-Las Vegas would look like. We enjoyed our walk along the Trukee River, which runs through the middle of town. But my first impressions of Reno: dirty and sketchy—just like Las Vegas.

  

Doyle, California.

Small white church: Day 2; Doyle, California; 555 miles. I honestly don't know a thing about this little building. As we drove down Highway 395, I spotted a small white wooden church with a picket fence around it. Short steps led to the front entrance and a white wooden cross sat perched on top. It looked like something out of Little House on the Prairie. And to boot, it was next to a cemetery.

 

Burney Falls.

Burney Falls: Day 2; Cascade Mountains, California; 676 miles. This was my first time traveling through the Cascades and I wasn't disappointed. No one else was, either. The kids were surprised when they first set eyes upon the mighty waterfall. One hundred and twenty nine feet high and two hundred and fifty wide. It is indeed impressive. We walked the 1.3 mile-loop that circumvents the falls. Burney Falls was a detour from our route, but it was well worth it.

 

Clam Beach.

First view of the Pacific Ocean: Day 2; Clam Beach, California; 884 miles. We thought we'd never make it. The drive between Redding and Arcata was beautiful, but a very curvy road. But at last we made it to the beach! It wasn't at all what we expected. We found a super strong wind blowing from the sea and a very rugged coast line—choppy waves, wind-swept sand, drift logs and icy-cold water. Hills clad with pine trees rose in the distance. Right away we knew our June vacation would have no sunbathing or dips in the ocean.

Redwood Forest.

Walking with giants: Day 3; Redwood Forest, California; 915 miles. Our first contact with these massive trees came at Prairie Creek Redwood State Park. I was surprised at how few visitors we encountered. It felt as if we had the forest to ourselves. For over three miles we wandered along moss-lined trails beneath an impressive canopy of redwood trees. It is difficult to comprehend until you've actually been there. It was like wandering through a fantasy-land, where we could expect elves and hobbits to pop out at any time. There is a tame herd of Roosevelt elk near the entrance of the park. Prairie Creek is one of many places a visitor could go. Whatever you do, you need to get out and walk to truly gain the experience.

Smith River.

Chilling by the river: Day 3; Smith River, California; 949 miles. The Smith River is named after Jedediah Smith, the first European to explore this area by a route other than sea. We drove through an impressive redwood grove with lots of camping spots and picnic tables. Our stop here was completely spontaneous, as we were looking for someplace else. But it turned out to be a pleasant intermission. We chilled by the river and occasionally rolled up our pant legs and waded in. The kids had fun finding flat rocks and skipping them across the water.

Macklyn Cove.

Macklyn Cove: Day 3; Brookings, Oregon; 973 miles. At last in Oregon! Although we had a beach near our hotel, we chose someplace else for our first sandy spot. Macklyn Cove is more on the secluded side. The easiest route to get there included parking on a steep and narrow dead-end road, then walking down a flight of stairs. This place didn't disappoint. We found sandy stretches, as well as rocky coves. We spent a couple hours, wading in the ice-cold water and exploring the shoreline. Then we watched the sun go down and silhouette the cliffs that rose above the water.

Harbor at Brookings, Oregon.

Harbor walk: Day 4; Brookings, Oregon; 973 miles. I've always dreamed of spending an extended period of time out at sea on a small fishing boat. This morning—while everyone else slept— I walked to the harbor and gave myself a tour. A low fog hung over the port. In the early morning, the still water reflected an image of vessels and their masts. I walked along the dock and admired the character of each ship, most of them old and rusty, each with a unique name that tied it to the sea.

Tide pool at Lone Ranch Beach.

Searching for sea creatures: Day 4; Lone Ranch Beach, Oregon; 978 miles. The fog still hung low as we pulled into the parking area at Lone Ranch Beach, with hills of spruce behind a wide stretch of sand. Although devoid of spectacular sea stacks like many of the other beaches, this shoreline is abundant in tide pools. We removed our shoes and braved the chilly water to get a closer look at all the marine life clinging to the rocks. We found starfish, anemone, mussels, and a variety of colorful shells.

Lunch at Arch Rock.

Lunch with a view: Day 4; Arch Rock, Oregon; 986 miles. This stretch along Highway 101 is arguably the most scenic in all of Oregon. We could have spent all day exploring hidden coves and picturesque beaches. Since time was of the essence, however, we had to pick and choose, unfortunately bypassing several places. With the exception of a few meals, we always bought our food at a grocery store and ate outside or in our hotel. The view point at Arch Rock provided picnic tables, along with a fantastic vantage point to observe some of the sea stacks.

Coos Bay, Oregon.

Dinner by the bay: Day 4; Coos Bay, Oregon; 1,080 miles. Coos Bay has always been one of those places that has stuck out on a map, calling me to come. And on this day, we finally came. But it began a bit rocky when I made a U-turn, not knowing I was on a one-way street, and for a small moment, risked the lives of our entire family! Unbeknownst to me, Coos Bay does not sit next to the Ocean, but is inland a few miles, next to a bay. (Imagine that!) We ate fish and chips—and other fish food—on the boardwalk next to the bay. Several boats are docked there, including a boat / museum.

Oregon sand dunes.

Sand Dunes: Day 5; Florence, Oregon; 1,130 miles. We didn't plan on stopping here, but I took a serendipitous left-hand turn off the 101 and fifteen minutes later we were looking over a beautiful stretch of shoreline with deep-blue ocean on one side, and a never-ending mound of fine sand on the other. I never would have imagined sand dunes in Oregon, but here they were. I think this would have been a fun family beach had it been twenty degrees warmer. Instead, we waded in shallow water until our feet turned to popsicles, then dried them off on the warm sand.

Heceta Head Lighthouse.

Heceta Head Lighthouse: Day 5; Lane County, Oregon; 1,148 miles. Coming around the bend from Sea Lion Point, just before passing Devils Elbow, a very photogenic lighthouse comes into view, perched on the distant cliffs. I wasn't sure if we would stop here, but once I saw it, it was too enticing not to. The Heceta Head Lighthouse is a beautiful red and white structure built in 1893 and named after the Basque Explorer, Bruno de Heceta. The beam can shine for 21 nautical miles, making it the most visible light on the Oregon Coast. Closer to the lighthouse you can park near the beach and hike there on a paved trail.

View from our hotel.

Room with a view: Day 5; Newport, Oregon; 1,185 miles. Just being an average family, we usually can't afford a hotel on the beach. But this time we splurged. Upon arrival we found our room to have a superb view of Nye Beach, complete with balcony and chairs. Especially with the cold weather, it was pleasant to merely sit on the balcony and enjoy the vista. At night we watched the ships slowly move across the dark waters, and to the north of us the rotating beam of a lighthouse.

Yaquina Bay Bridge.

Run on the beach: Day 6; Newport Oregon; 1,185 miles. I had to take advantage of the long stretch of beach below our hotel. I woke up before anyone else and jogged south along the sandy coast, just feet from the incoming waves. Near the mouth of the Yaqina River I ran up and over dunes of sand and along a trail toward the bridge. The Yaquina Bay Bridge is a beautiful piece of architecture with several steel arches.

Chowder Bowl at Depoe Bay, Oregon.

Chugging oysters: Day 6; Depoe Bay, Oregon; 1,198 miles. When looking for whales at Depoe Bay became fruitless, we decided to peruse the shops along the main road (Highway 101). We bought some tasty kettle corn, watched salt water taffy being made, and found a good gift shop. Then we decided to step foot into the Chowder Bowl. When I saw the oyster cocktail on the menu, I knew I had to try it. When the raw shellfish came served in a shot glass, I had to ask how to eat it. (This was an embarrassment to my family and is a result of living a deprived life in the desert.) The waitress was so excited to teach me that she ran in back and grabbed a shot for herself! She instructed that first you drizzle it with Tabasco sauce, then you douse it with lemon juice. Then you down it in one gulp. That simple. On the count of three, and after a toast, (and with the entire restaurant looking on) we successfully consumed our oyster cocktails. At least two people filmed us and afterward I received an ovation. Probably the closest I will ever come to becoming a celebrity.

Mount Hood as seen from across the Columbia River.

View of Mount Hood: Day 6; Washougal, Washington; 1,320 miles. Just over the border from Oregon, and a few miles east of Vancouver, Washington is the small town of Washougal. I am glad we decided to spend the night here. It has a very rural feel to it, and seems a hundred miles away from the din of Portland. We lodged near the Columbia River, with a view of Mount Hood across the waters. We enjoyed sunset over the river and listened to a powerful thunderstorm move in overnight.

Columbia River Gorge.

Cape Horn Lookout: Day 7; Columbia River Gorge, Washington; 1,329 miles. The Columbia River is something to be revered. This mammoth waterway is the fourth largest river in the United States and discharges more water into the Pacific Ocean than any other river in the Americas. You can either drive it on the Oregon side or the Washington. I'm happy we chose the Washington side. I believe it is much less popular, yet just as spectacular.

Panther Creek Falls.

Cascades in the Cascades: Day 7; Panther Creek Falls, Washington; 1,366 miles. On this day it was my goal to see some beautiful waterfalls—and that we did! Our first waterfall we accessed by walking through a cemetery. The second we walked a short distance up on canyon, not far off the road. The third—and my favorite—required a twelve-mile drive deeper into the mountain range. Then we set out on foot through a thick forest, down to the bottom of a ravine. That put us face-to-face with Panther Creek Falls. As you can see from the picture, it is very impressive.

Upper Perry Arch Bridge, Oregon.

Upper Perry Arch Bridge: Day 7; Union County, Oregon; 1,590 miles. This stop was purely serendipitous. We crossed back into Oregon and surprisingly passed through a beautiful forest, which I believe is part of the Blue Mountains. It is right off the Old Oregon Trail. What we found was an arched bridge that spans over the Grande Ronde River and railroad tracks. The bridge is of an historical nature (built in 1924), but for us it was just a fun place to get out and stretch our legs. We crossed the railroad tracks and walked down to the water.

Shoshone Falls.

Shoshone Falls: Day 8; Twin Falls, Idaho; 1,894 miles. I have wanted to see this for a long time. Sometimes referred to as Niagara of the West, Shoshone Falls is an impressive cascade along the Snake River in Idaho. Even though water levels were high from a heavy snowfall this winter, I was worried that the falls might not be up to capacity. The size of the falls depends on the amount of water released from the Milner Dam, 24 miles up-stream. Indeed we weren't disappointed. The falls flowed at 85% of capacity and we enjoyed the view from the top with dozens of other people.

Harrisville Park, Utah.

Harrisville Park: Day 8; Harrisville, Utah; 2,072 miles. By this time, we were anxious to get home. Our drive today would be over nine hours. We found a small park with a pond where we pulled over to eat lunch. Although we had never been to this particular park before, it felt good to be in familiar territory with the Wasatch Mountains reigning in the background.

Home sweet home!: Day 8; Somewhere in Utah; 2,362 miles. ♠