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As far as sand formation, rocks - or not - and driftwood, one never knows what to expect on this beach. Every low tide reveals something different.
CLICK on the picture to see it BIGGER ON BLACK
iPhone picture processed in CameraBag and CS3
I noticed this at the post office, lots of debris stuck to the top of a counter. It reminded me of Kurt Schwitters' collages so I grabbed a shot of it with my iPhone.
Series 17 : Battle Dwarf - www.flickr.com/photos/wiredforsound23/34994196936/
Series 17 : Butterfly Girl - www.flickr.com/photos/wiredforsound23/34486368704/
Series 17 : Corn Cob Guy - www.flickr.com/photos/wiredforsound23/34788148283/
Series 17 : Elf Maiden - www.flickr.com/photos/wiredforsound23/34611749781/
Series 17 : Pro Surfer - www.flickr.com/photos/wiredforsound23/35017365155/
Series 17 : Retro Space Hero - www.flickr.com/photos/wiredforsound23/35177890881/
Series 17 : Roman Gladiator - www.flickr.com/photos/wiredforsound23/35090337253/
Series 17 : Rocket Boy - www.flickr.com/photos/wiredforsound23/35183830501/
Where to even start.
start: 'hey babe, let's go camping. somewhere. not on a campground. in Oregon.'
And so we did. After asking several people on flickr, and several real people [it's well known flickr people are automated fabrications of your imagination], we still had no clue where to head. So I did the obvious. I opened Google maps, selected terrain, blindfolded myself, spun my chair 10 times and pointed. What I ended up with was the Oregon coast. Perfect. In Oregon, much like a mustache to an upper lip, lush forests grow right down to beaches. Amazing beaches. So, we hit Freddy Meyers, corralled the dogs and packed up the car. Way too much. Neither of us had been back country camping before, and our overabundance of gear, beer and food was testament to this. We had less stuff driving cross country. We hit the sunset highway and headed West through some gorgeous wilderness towards our final destination, Cape Meares. Mind you, this was at 9pm. Luckily, the Oregon summer holds the sun high till 10 and twilight seems to linger some time after. So, we had at least 1hr to find a trail, unpack the car, scamp through woods, haul our gear, get the pups, and setup shop that would lay claim to the next 3 nights. After a manic'd panic'd dimly lit search we decided upon a trail through a wildlife refuge. Why a wildlife refuge? It was dark, and time to do this. Tonto.
Besides, what wildlife with human predation lives on a beach?
Black bears. 2 bear cubs to be exact. That's who. And their mom. Their angry, overprotective, I'll maim you just for being within one mile of my cubs mother, whom we met at 9am the next morning. Thankfully we had already had our morning coffee, steeped to perfection over flame. So yea, the dogs charged the two bear cubs who shimmed up a 70 ft tree with all the grace of a black bear cub scaling a giant tree. It was impressive to say the least. I had my camera with me, and even pointed it to my eye. However, I couldn't push the shutter. Unlike my Yosemite bear cub experience, where there were many people around, I didn't take a photo. Instead, instinct kicked in and I knew we were in trouble. The dogs charging the cubs, and the fact the we couldn't see the mother, but knew she was close told us we should turn around, and jet. And so we did. The dogs thankfully heeded my calls and followed us as we ran back up the trail. manic'd panic'd I handed Lis my camera and wielded my Nepalese knife, ready to do battle. This was 100 yards from our chosen site. Needless to say, it was time to pack up our stuff and find another home, away from the bear family. And so we did. With a quickness. This would be the 4th trip up/down the quarter mile trail with our gear, as it took two trips each way to gather it all. Our cooler was heavy. Swollen with ice.
This story is in no way meant to take away from the the night spent in a sweet location, enjoying a nice campfire in a woods overlooking the ocean. The dogs running round the site. It sprinkled but the awe inspiring tree canopy kept us dry. We could even hear the waves from our tent.
Which led us to our next destination. We thought we'd up the wave anti by camping right on the beach. And so we did.
We setup shop on Netarts Beach, on a tip we got from a waitress in a coffee shop in a tiny coastal town. The beach was at the end of a dead end road called Happy Camp. This would surely bode well for us, no?
No. It actually didn't... Bode well... At all. What the waitress neglected to tell us was that the beach assumed the role of the ocean bottom during high tide. As in, when high tide comes, you should be off this beach. So, after an amazing day, a giant campfire, scenery to die for [punny] we settled into our tent. The waves were roaring. Seriously loud. Their gusto to be overtaken only by the constant barrage of fireworks being shot off the dune cliffs above us. This was all well and good for the first half hour, but 4 hours of firebombs bursting 10 feet over your tent tends to make one feel as though they are in The Ardennes circa 1945. The dogs were scared. Understatement. They were pissing their pants. I mean our tent. We don't make them wear pants. Lis would though, if she could. Thankfully the shelling was a blessing in disguise as it kept us awake. Until 2am. Which came in handy when I looked out the tent door and shined my mag light. The water was near. Near like 4 feet. Correction, the Singularity is near, the icy cold ocean was on us. It was time to go. Again. This time with a severe quickness. Our tent was as far back as a tent can go. We were up against a cliff face. The only way out was left. So, at 2am in the pitch dark we packed. We packed like rats. Did I mention it was raining out? We packed as much as we could for one trip off the beach. We sadly had to leave some stuff behind, like the 200lb cooler full of melted ice. And my mini grill. Our apologies to environmentalites. We had to go. Fast. The walk back down the beach was no walk on the beach. The sand was gone. Underwater. We had to skirt the cliff face on rocks. With gear hanging off of us like rented mules. Raining. 2 dogs with the look of fear in their eyes. Sidenote: I always though that if stranded somewhere, desperate, I'd want one thing with me. My dog. I change my mind. They're like kids in this situation. Baggage. At this point its time to interject with a word about my wife. She's strong. Stronger than I've thought. She did this. Without bitching once. Without crying. Without concern for herself. She carried at least 60lbs of gear on her back across a quarter mile stretch of soaking wet beach rocks with the ocean surf taunting 4 feet from her feet. Pinned against a cliff face! Now thats a wife. It's who I want with me.
We made it. Obviously. The two hour ride back to Portland at 3am was sublimely painful.
From my pics you can see the beauty we saw. It was an amazing 4th. A lot happened in 24 hours. It's good to get this down on 'paper'. It was breathtaking. Ridiculous. Gorgeous. Dangerous.
It was living Life. Full.
...of Lake Berryessa...more than 20 years ago we used to spend the majority of our summer weekends here, b.c. (before children), and have many great memories. It was good to visit it again, even if only for a short time....
We endured hours of driving in traffic to get here, and didn't mind at all...this was our summer playground for a handful of years...
We have explored all of its creeks and coves.
We have seen it full, like this, and seen it so low that we could see the town that is now buried in its depths.
We have seen it's surrounding hills green, we have seen it on fire.
We have seen it empty like this (although not very often) and we have seen it packed with boats.
We have enjoyed the peace and quiet like it is here and endured the drone of hundreds of speed-boats.
We have watched the military practice here, and watched as they tried to locate a plane crashed into its depths.
We have seen joy here, and tragedy.
We have baked on it's shores and swam, water-skied, tubed, and wake-boarded in it's pleasantly warm waters.
We had joyous times with friends here...times that will never be forgotten..
The leaves are all gone now, thanks to our recent storms. Nothing but bare trees to look at for the next few months. Sure was beautiful while it lasted though...
Your hearts a mess
You won't admit to it
It makes no sense
But I'm desperate to connect
And you, you can't live like this
Many thanks to ALL for kind words, awards and invites. So very much appreciated!
BIGGER ON BLACK: www.flickr.com/photos/amarcord108/4895411400/#/photos/ama...
Negative scan from my archives, 1967
Especially Antonella & Rolf Cornell
www.flickr.com/photos/antypos/
www.flickr.com/photos/rolfcornell/
Thank You