Trailing the Oregon Coast

For all my backroads readers, I must recommend driving Highway 20 west through the Cascades and then taking Highway 101 up the coast. In contrast to hwy 20 that has very few cars, hwy 101 has many, but you can find empty pockets, and the quality of the road is silken.

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9:30 a.m. and the fog along the coast has yet to clear.

Following the coast calls for serpentine roads, and the curves call out to motorcycle riders and sports car fans who test the limits of their vehicles and their driving skill . The coupled logging trucks are fearless. Meanwhile, as you drive west from central Oregon, deciduous trees join the firs. Below the trees a thick ground-cover brings poison ivy to mind, and mentally, I start to itch.

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If you are a coffee drinker, a coffee kiosk is only a couple of miles down the road. Oregon must have more coffee drinkers than any other state in the nation. As for decaf… don’t ask. Ask for decaf, and the locals abruptly say, “No!”  Their tone suggests that if you don’t want real lumberjack coffee, you should probably go home.

Seagulls complain ceaselessly, “Me, me, me!” The forest alternates between clear-cut and dense. Pine beetle devastation is evident as are many signs of forest fires.  From time to time the smell of smoke lies on top of  the briny smell of ocean and  fresh seafood on ice. Oregon has done a spectacular job in terms of pull-offs, scenic overlooks, historical markers, and forested paths leading down the cliffs to beach access.

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Love it!

As for roadside blooms, here on the Pacific coast, white Queen Anne’s Lace and Shasta Daisies hold court. Sweet Peas, Asters, rambling roses, and Fireweed attend the queens. Unable to identify great swaths of pinkish-purple blooms, I had to look up the name. As it turns out, the flower is aptly named ‘Fireweed,’ and it is the first flower to bloom after a fire. In London, following WW II, the same flower was called Bombweed.

I’m nor sure why seals are so appealing, but they do pull at your heartstrings. The way they use one another’s bodies as pillows is sweet. The way they cuddle one another is very pet-like. I want to take one home. We could snuggle on the couch. Seals also have a lot to say – most of it harsh. The seals in the photo below are hanging out on floating decks in Newport.

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About timeout2

I have lived 100 lives. I write essays, short stories, poetry, grocery lists and notes to myself. If I am ever lost, look for a paper trail, but be careful not to trip over any books that lie scattered here and there. I am a reader. I am a reader in awe of writers. When I don't live in Westcliffe, Colorado, I live in London where I am a long-time member of Word-for-Word - Crouch End.
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4 Responses to Trailing the Oregon Coast

  1. Carol Moran says:

    Love your posts–when my husband was alive we traveled all around the country–some for his IBM employment and the rest for our enjoyment. I do miss those days and find enjoyment in your essays and travels. Keep them coming–Carol Moran

  2. timeout2 says:

    Dear Carol, This month-long trip has been too ambitious. Too many hours in the car are hard on the body. We’ve learned a hard lesson: in terms of sitting, our bodies are older than we thought they were. Penn Y
    an and Horseheads are on our bucket list. From this point on, we will fly to a central location and take day trips. Thanks for reading – sensing time and its passage (faster every day) it is important to reconnect with family. Hopefully, we will visit your part of the country before it is too late to do so. xo

  3. Maria Weber says:

    Loving your journey/journal with pictures. Maybe next year. Meanwhile I’ve a rant to write for Shavano . . .

    • timeout2 says:

      Thank you for reading, Maria. Two more weeks on the road and I’ve learned a lot about myself, but the rant hasn’t surfaced. I need to work up some spit!

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