Paradise Found……the Oregon Coast and Beyond Early on a Monday morning we again packed our belongings and got ready to continue on to our goal! The Oregon Coast…..Paradise. I was looking forward to the journey. I have been there many times. But, Fayez was a “Stranger in Paradise”…..and I was looking forward to showing him my concept of Paradise…..the vast, blue Pacific Ocean of the Oregon Coast…..just like the words of the 1950’s song says, “Take my hand….I’m a stranger in paradise.”

The campground at Hell’s Canyon was probably our favorite camping

spot so far.  It was set back in a green park, bordering the Snake River. Not only did we have a problem finding our cabin…..but when we finally did find it….it was locked! And no key…. We found a kindly old man….the Park Host…..who finally let us into the cabin….although he couldn’t find a key to give us. We were brave….and slept through the night with the door unlocked. No….this was no problem. The Park was basically deserted, giving plenty of freedom to sit in front of our camp fire and talk….without being disturbed….or worrying about disturbing others. In fact, after the sun set, we never saw our neighbors again. As usual, we were the only people actually “camping”….the only two people with a true sense of adventure….or the only two people foolish enough to consider starting a fire to fix our evening meal. Or maybe it was that we were the only two “poor” people there….and we were doing it out of necessity. But, mostly because this was what we wanted to do…..camp out. Fortunately, we were not attacked by any militant, right-wing mountain dwellers……and we woke up in the morning ready to continue our trip.

Hell’s Canyon is set in a dry, rather desert-like area. But, even so, the town of Lewiston, Idaho, is a beautiful little town…..clean, well-kept, green, attractive….with all the necessary facilities and services to make it a desirable place to live. As we talked later, Fayez said that this would be a place where even he would like to live…..high praise, coming from a Bedouin of the Saudi Arabian desert. And, really, if I were forced to live there….it would be an environment that I could readily accept. It certainly would not be as bad as some other places I can think of…..places teeming with purple wildcats, for example.

The drive through eastern Washington is always a nostalgic journey for me. If I happen to become homesick…..which I do not…..this part of Washington is the cure. There are vast fields of green stretching into the horizon. It is a testament to the gift of water….the power and value of irrigation. This semi-arrid land is brought to life by the use of irrigation, turning a fruitless, unproductive landscape into a fertile carpet of green wheat and soy beans.

The state of Washington is blessed with series of rivers which have been dammed up, not only to be used as a source of electricity…..but also as a means of irrigating the otherwise dry, unproductive soil. The green terrain of Washington differs from that of Kansas. Most of the land in Kansas is suitable for growing crops…..especially in the western three-fourths of the state. The the land in this area is flat….with only gently rolling hills…..compared with the higher, but manageable hills of Washington. In years of adequate rainfall, the land in Central and Western Kansas is highly productive and most of the land is devoted to grain crops…..or hay crops for feeling cattle. Land that is not ideally suited for growing food crops is used as grazing land for cattle. Huge cattle ranches…or cattle feed lots…. occupy much of this space.

The further West one travels in Kansas, rainfall and rainfall amounts tends to decrease. Irrigation is very common in these parts of the state, too. In years of severe drought, crops are vulnerable to failure….or, at the least, the yield per acre is significantly decreased. Even constant irrigation can’t make up for the lack of rainfall.

But, the fact remains: most of the soil in the western three-fourths of the state of Kansas is tillable or adaptable to some sort of agriculture. However, in Washington, much of the eastern section of the state is incapable of producing crops without the use of constant irrigation. There is a great contrast between land which is being irrigated and land which is not being irrigated.. The contrast between green and brown….crops and sage brush…..is immediate and striking. One side of a highway may be verdant and flourishing. The other side of the highway dry, brown and fruitless.

Coming from a desert country where crops grow only with the benefit of irrigation….and where the contrast between desert and fertility are in stark divergence, the landscape of Eastern Washington is familiar and commonplace to Fayez, who has a much better understanding of this phenomenon than I do. In addition to the thousands of acres of crops growing in this area, there are also thousands of cattle raised here, too. Unfortunately, there are no camels roaming the dry lands. But…..you can’t have everything, I suppose. Our highway curved to the south toward the Oregon border. The states of Oregon and Washington are separated by the mighty Columbia River which flows almost the entire distance between the two states….at least the entire length of I-84 which channels traffic into Portland on the western side of the state. Although the two states are partitioned by only a few hundred feet of water, each state has its own identifying characteristics. I wouldn’t say they are like night and day….but more like the rich uncle with the nice well-kept home…..with the lawn always green and abundant trees and attractive landscaping ….and the poor uncle (and that would probably be me!) with a front lawn that is …..well, not much. Never watered….no trees or attention to appearance.

At any rate, I-84 is bordered on the south….that would be the Oregon side…..with tree covered mountains and the robust Columbia River on the north. As we drove along, we watched the barges carry their cargo up and down the river.

About mid-way to Portland, along the Columbia River is a major hydro-electric generating facility. The Bonneville Dam is located probably 100 miles east of Portland. It is set in a lush park-like environment…..and the complex consists of a dam and three or four huge generator turbines located in a spotless building. I don’t know anything about generating electricity or how any of the equipment works…..but I do know that every time I visit this place, I am impressed. The dam is huge and noisy…..probably generating as much turbulence as it does electricity. The cacophony of sound makes it impossible to converse while standing near it. The turbine building, on the other hand, is relatively quiet and serene, considering the size of the turbines….and the maze of wires, pipes, meters, gauges…..and other mysterious paraphernalia scattered about the building.

Aside from the dam and the generating plant, the compound also contains a lock where barges and boats are raised and lowered as they float up and down the Columbia River. This, in itself, is reason enough for a brief stop over. Another of the interesting features found there is the fish ladder, which makes it possible for the salmon to swim upstream, bypassing the dam, to lay their eggs…..before dying. There is a series of ladders outside where people can watch the salmon…..and there is also a viewing area in the visitor’s center where the river channel flows past a glass wall. Both of these areas are interesting…although the outside ladders are probably the most exciting to watch. One cannot help but feel some sympathy for the poor salmon….probably not knowing this will be the last thing they will ever do. But, there is a fish hatchery, with thousands of little baby fish….teeming wall to wall with little fish….being raised to take their place. As I said…..I am certainly not a scientist….far from it, in fact. But I always find this place to be fascinating. I am more or less in awe of the magnitude of everything…. So….if I, with a completely non-scientific mind, find this to be interesting…..how much more fascinated would my friend and traveling companion, Fayez, be! Fayez, the scientific genius….4.0 GPA……student of all that is inexplicable and unknown…. But…guess again. Actually, Fayez found the entire situation to be boring…..and couldn’t wait until we left and pushed on to something bigger and better. Now…..let’s talk about who is the “scientist” and who is not. Hey, Fayez…..what do you say about that? Just saying…..

Almost immediately after getting back onto I-84, a scenic road heads off the Interstate and up onto a charming road with moss-covered mountains bordering on the south, and leafy old trees forming a canopy overhead.. Although the four-lane highway is only a few hundred feet below….this quaint highway is like being in another realm….far removed from the rest of the world and heavy truck-filled highway traffic down the mountain side.

At irregular intervals along this road are a series of waterfalls which cascade down the mountainside and into rushing streams that flow into the Columbia River. All of the waterfalls are clearly visible and easily accessible from the road. Trails lead to the top of each waterfall. Those who enjoy a leisurely, but vigorous hike, can walk to the summit of these falls on stone pathways. The journey can take anywhere from five minutes to a half hour, depending on the height of the waterfall. There actually is not a lot to see upon reaching the top….but it is exciting and refreshing to stand and watch the water cascade over the side of the mountain and plunge to the depths below.

 

In years past,  this was always on our “must do”  list. But….not this year. I have become frail and sluggish in my old age….of not just a bit senile…..so we had to content ourselves with taking a few pictures before moving on. And, anyways…..my desert-wandering friend was not as enchanted as I was……so we hit the road again.

Our magic wizard…the GPS…guided us expertly through Portland…..a city where the goal of highway designers is obviously to confuse people…..and in the past they have been successful in meeting this objective with me. But, today these crafty engineers failed….and soon we were heading south on I-5…..a route that I have never considered taking before. But, like Shakespeare said, “All is well that ends well”, and a few hours later we would gaze with wonder and awe out upon our objective…..the Pacific Ocean…..Paradise.

Some people yearn to live in the mountains; some in a peaceful green forest; some on a tropical island……and maybe a few people are homesick for the desert with camels roaming about. But…..as for me. Give me a home overlooking the dynamic Pacific Ocean…..the endless sea of blue….powerful….restless….relentless. With the sound of the never-ending waves pounding against the shore….peaceful, reassuring…..and sometimes ominous and sinister.

Here we are. Let’s get checked into our camping cabin and start enjoying this visual and sensuous paradise. Our accommodations have changed from a camping cabin to a Yurt. They are essentially the same thing….and serve the same purpose. Inside there is sleeping space for three or four people, along with a couple shelves and a couple straight back chairs. Outside, one will find the basic picnic table and fire pit. A paved path leads through the forest to the showers…..which are spotlessly maintained.

The main attraction of the Oregon Coast is…..yes, you guessed it: The Pacific Ocean. My primary destination on every trip I make to the Oregon Coast is Beverly Beach State Park. To me it is the premier camping ground along the entire Coast. It is a large campground…..with all the camping conveniences and amenities I could desire. But, the reason I like it is because of the almost endless stretches of sandy beaches…..for the most part largely deserted and unspoiled.

For a person who wants beaches crowded with humanity….people packed closely together with little privacy or personal space…..this is not the beach to choose. Around the organized campgrounds, of course there are people. People walking along the beach; people walking their dogs; kids building sand art in hopes that it will be washed away by the tides….and they will be……; people sitting on tree trunks that have been washed in by the ocean tides from who knows where; people sitting on the beach or in lawn chairs….simply watching and listening to the endless crashing waves; people in the ocean, swimming or trying to swim; people flying kites which easily catch the ocean breezes. (I had to say this…..because we were part of this group.) But…..yet there are no “crowds”. Community without intimacy. You still have your space.

Let’s talk about the water just a bit. Oregon is not Southern California. There are no days with 80 or 90 or 100 degree temperatures. And, the temperature of the water is not a Jacuzzi 80 or 90 degrees…….not even 70 degrees. In my experience, the temperature on the Oregon Coast rarely rises above the low-70’s, even during the hottest part of the year. And, it is even cooler than this a good deal of the time. The temperature of the ocean is usually somewhere in the brisk, refreshing mid-50’s or low 60’s depending on the time of the year. Probably your initial plunge into the ocean is going to be a rude awakening! If you are sleepy…..you are going to wake up in a hurry. The water is not “cold”; but it certainly is not “warm”. Don’t worry, the body adjusts to the temperature quickly….most of the time, at least, and it won’t be very long before you will be enjoying the refreshing experience. The Pacific Ocean is not a desert oasis.

While Fayez and I were there, the sky was mostly dark…..the horizon foggy….clouds hugging the tops of the mountains. But….I love this kind of weather…..and the mysterious, enigmatic atmosphere that it creates. Later on, as summer progresses, the skies become blue, and the sun shimmers off the ocean. The temperature doesn’t warm a lot…..but the atmosphere is brighter.

Fayez went running almost every day….sometimes through the campground and sometimes on the beach. This gave the old man an opportunity to check his e-mail…..and to take a nap!

Ah yes….another feature about Beverly Beach that I really appreciate is the fact that it is almost impossible to get lost on the beach…..no matter how far we wander from the campground. Entrance to the beach is gained by walking under a major highway bridge. This is especially helpful at night when finding the path from the beach back to the campground may prove to be a challenge. I already knew this from prior experience….from some hard-learned, nerve racking experience …..and Fayez was also convinced after spending a couple hours walking on the beach at night…..and sitting and listening to the ocean before returning to our campground in complete darkness on a cloudy night.

Up and down the coast, within easy driving distance are numerous photo-ops…..almost too good to pass up…..and we didn’t. Fayez and I took every opportunity to take pictures and to go walking on the endless deserted beaches. It is very difficult to refrain from taking pictures…..pictures of everything…..in fact, multiple pictures of everything. But….who cares? With my digital camera….pictures are free! It is not like the olden days when film cost a small fortune…..and having the film developed an even bigger fortune. Back in those day, one chose his shots carefully…..very carefully. I suppose I should take this opportunity to clarify a small point: When I said that WE took pictures…what I actually meant to say was that I, the old man, took pictures. But, considering which of us two possesses the artistic and aesthetic qualities and understanding……this seemed like the most desirable path to take. Actually…..I am not sure they even have cameras in Saudi Arabia! (He knows I am joking……I hope.)

Of course, the Pacific Ocean is the reason a person goes to the Oregon Coast. But, there are other interesting attractions and diversions, too. Beverly Beach is located a few miles north of Newport…..a major city…..or town….on the Central Coast. If you ever stay at Beverly Beach or one of the other nearby parks, don’t pass up the opportunity to spend some time exploring the quaint, picturesque Bay Front. Get there early in the morning when the fishing boats begin trickling in with their night’s catch. Fayez and I spent a morning walking around, looking at the jungle of tall mast fishing boats…..and watching busy confusion of the fishermen unloading their fish. Fat sea lions lounge on the docks and walkways, waiting for their breakfast to be thrown into the surrounding water. Talk about an obesity problem in our nation: These lazy sea lions have to be among the foremost offenders.

The boat docks are more or less open to the public….at least nobody tells you to leave. Fayez and I walked on the piers and looked into dozens of boats anchored there. Every boat has its own unique name painted on its side. The fishermen are busy and pay little attention to the tourists. I would certainly recommend that you stay out of their way and not obstruct their jobs, however. They look mean and tough…..and they are serious about their jobs. They are not the kind of men I would like to tangle with.

We looked for some “bargains” at the fish markets. But….don’t bother. There are none. Fish costs just as much….if not more…..in these markets than it does in a grocery store. But the atmosphere is alluring. The Bay Front consists of five or six blocks of docks, fish markets, and packing plants. But, it also has a diverse assortment of restaurants, coffee shops, souvenir shops and bars. Even if you do not intend to buy anything, your time will be well spent by browsing through them and looking at the unique mementos and art-work relics that are on display. Many of them are produced by local artisans….but I am sure that some of them were also made by “local artisans” who live in Taiwan or China or Thailand!

It was here, on the Bay Front, that I first got the inspiration of creating stained glass. I never bought any of it……but it did inspire me to create more than fifty pieces of stained glass of my own. It is the same for you…..who knows what kind of ideas you might pick up here. I think the only idea Fayez picked up was that he wanted to get out of there and do something more interesting.

If you are ever visiting Newport, Oregon, …..even for a day…..don’t pass up the opportunity to eat at Mo’s Seafood Restaurant…..easily one of Newport’s leading and most enticing eating places…..not to mention its serving the most delicious food in town.  Its specialty is its famous clam chowder….award winning and famous up and down the Oregon Coast. Normally, in the peak tourist season, we would have stood in line for thirty minutes before being seated. It’s that popular. But, the night that Fayez and I ate there was a quiet night. I was very disappointed…..and I know Fayez was, too…..that the clam chowder contains pork……so Fayez was not able to eat it. It was a real bummer….and I felt badly about it. But, he enjoyed another fantastic meal. Honestly….there are no bad meals served at Mo’s.  

 

We also  visited a local coffee shop where we relaxed on the front veranda and watched the bustling activity of the Bay Front. Fayez tells me that I ordered a bowl of Pho (with a little squiggly like over the “o”)……a Vietnamese soup that I ate often during the time I spend

in South Vietnam. I probably did. I am not doubting Fayez’s memory…..because I am sure it is a long one. And, if I did, I am sure I enjoyed it.

Our evening meals…..actually night meals…..were mostly prepared and eaten at our camp site over an open fire. These, it goes without saying, were the best meals of all. When Fayez cooks a meal…..you will never be disappointed. Of course, the delicious rice that I prepared in the rice cooker was good, too! And, as was our habit, after the meal was happily consumed and the dishes taken care of…….stuffed into a trash bag or burned in the fire…..we sat in front of the campfire and talked and laughed and argued and discussed until we could no longer stay awake.

The best place to buy souvenirs along the Central Oregon Coast is the little for-tourists-only town of Depoe Bay. It is built almost directly on the ocean and it is famous for whale watching, when whale watching is in season. The rest of the year, it is a delightful, pleasant place to browse through souvenir shops, drink a cup of coffee….or use the public restrooms! The entire little town consists of four or five blocks of business assembled along the east side of the street opposite the ocean. Fayez took the opportunity to buy some souvenirs of the Oregon Coast to take home to his family. I took the opportunity to buy a kite for Fayez in one of the local kite stores. This would turn out to be probably the most fun my little desert-dwelling friend had on the entire vacation. .

No story is very good without some conflict and drama. There wasn’t any conflict. There never is when Fayez and I are together. But….fortunately…or unfortunately…..there was a hint of drama…..or what will have to suffice as drama…..for this trip. We were at our camping space in Beverly Beach….finished with our day’s activities and ready to prepare our supper….eat it….and then sit and relax for the remainder of the evening. At some point, Fayez went to the car to get something from it. It was locked. “Can you give me the keys?”

Feeling my pockets, I replied, “I don’t have the keys. Are you sure you don’t have them”?

“No…..I don’t,” he replied.

This set off a flurry of frantic activity….searching for the missing keys. We looked into the pockets of everything we had worn that day: shorts, shirts, jackets….. In fact, we did it multiple times, just to make sure we had not overlooked them. They were not in any of our pockets. We searched the Yurt….the desk, the beds, the floor. No keys. We looked on the picnic table; we looked under the picnic table….in all of the boxes we had taken from the car. They were not there. We started looking on the ground around the car…around the picnic table…the side walk from the car to the cabin. No trace of them. By this time, the sun was setting, and it was starting to get dark. So….we got the flashlights and continued our search.

By this time, a hint of panic was starting to set in! We had only ONE key…there were no extras that we could depend upon. We knew that the one place the key could NOT be was in the car. Fayez’s car can only be locked from the outside. If the key had been locked inside, we could have found a way to open the door and retrieve the key. Not a simple thing….but, at least, a possible thing.

Both of us had flashlights and were walking slowly around, with our heads down, looking for the keys. I am sure we covered every square inch of our camping space. “OK,” I thought. “Tomorrow morning we will have to call a locksmith….or the automobile dealership…get the serial number of the key….and have a new key made.”

That solution would have delayed us for several hours. But, it was better to be delayed for several hours than to spend the rest of our life living in the campground at Beverly Beach…..over 1800 miles from home. Trapped in Paradise! Well….now that I stop and think about it….maybe that isn’t quite true! Fayez and I could have become beach bums….and lived happily ever after, without a care in the world.

“Did you check all your bags? I asked Fayez.

“Yes…..and they aren’t there.”

Out of boredom….or desperation….I also looked into MY briefcase. AND….drum roll….and a big sigh of relief…..there were the keys!! The precious keys. The drama was over….my blood pressure started to inch its way down a few notches. We would no longer be trapped in Paradise.

Fayez admitted rather sheepishly that he had dropped the keys into my briefcase by mistake…..not looking to see which one it was. After all….both of our briefcase are black. But….aren’t almost all briefcases black?

Even though we booked our campground about six months in advance, we were able to stay at Beverly Beach for only three nights because the other nights had already been reserved by other early-bird campers. Yes…..it is a popular campground and you had better make your reservations early! So….the morning of our fourth day, we move about fifty or six miles north to Nehalem Bay State Park, just outside the small sea side village of Manzanita.

Manzanita is quintessential ocean side village…..weathered houses with nautical yard art. Weather beaten business housing a variety of grocery stores, restaurants, bars and souvenir shops…..all built on a few blocks bordering the ever-stretching ocean beach. During the tourist season, you can bet that most of the people who frequent these businesses are tourists who have come to camp, body surf, fish, hike….or just kick back, relax and smoke a few joints of marijuana.

In all reality, in a contest to name the better beach…..Beverly Beach State Park or Nehalem State Park….I think that we…..both Fayez and I…..would choose Nehalem State Park. The beach at Nehalem State Park is more “urban” than Beverly Beach State Park. It is located at the edge of the village of Manzanita…..and is bordered by architecturally unique beach homes. And, because it is located near both a large campground and a town with plentiful vacation motels and rental cabins, it, of course, has more people on the beach. But, even with this increased number of people, it is far from crowded. There is plenty of space for everybody.

Its setting is more dramatic, also. Not only is is bordered by private beach houses (one of which will be mine someday….after I win Powerball) and motels and condos……in places the forest-covered mountains descend to join the beach, forming a sort of gentle half semi-circle arch to the north of the beach. There are dramatic rocks jutting up from the ocean, too….which adds to the beauty. As is the case with Beverly Beach, the wide, sandy, uncluttered beaches seem to stretch to infinity both to the north and to the south. The only serious fault that I can find with this beach is that it is one of the few beaches on the Oregon Coast that is open to vehicle traffic…..but only a portion of it….I think.

From our campground the beach was accessible……but only by walking a pathway over a steep incline. Fayez investigated…..and he advised me against trying to climb it. As usual, I took his advice and never attempted it. So, the only access I had to the beach was by driving in our car to a beach entrance at the edge of Manzanita. But, this was entirely satisfactory for me.

Both times we went to the beach were in the late afternoon. By this time, the skies were cloudy….hanging low over the ocean and forming a smoke-like fog over the tops of the low mountains. This gave the ocean an aura of mystery and intrigue. Some people may not like this weather. They may prefer blue skies and bring sunlight reflecting off the ocean. Yes…..this is also good. But, I like the dark, mystical, fog-shrouded weather best.

It was here on the beach that we had some of our best fun….and most memorable minutes. This was certainly true for Fayez. Remember the kite I bought for him back in Depoe Bay? Nehlaem Bay beach proved to be the perfect setting to fly it. We passed many delightful minutes watching the kite catch the ocean breezes and soar high above the beach. After some trial and error……and some cooperation between Fayez and myself…..Fayez quickly acquired the knack of kite flying and was merrily content in guiding the kite high over the ocean and campground.

We spent a fun-filled hour or two flying the kite. My assignment was to assist in launching the kite. Fayez was the captain and navigator. I was the cheerleader….the gallery….cheering him on to higher and mightier heights. I was also the official photographer. I took more pictures of this single event than of anything else on the trip. It was a satisfying and lively experience. Who knew that kite flying would be so much fun? Kite flying is an activity out of my long-ago childhood…..when we made kites out of newspapers and balsa wood….or whatever was available. But this kite was no simple, home made kite. It was a large, colorful triangle….with a long tail streaming from behind. And…..yes…..I took a turn at flying the kite on the misty coast of the Pacific Ocean. As a child we flew our kites over the wide open spaces of Central Kansas…..and I can visualize Fayez flying his kite over the vast, sun-drenched sandy expanses of the Arabian desert. On this day, the kite flying championship went to Fayez…..with me coming in a distant second place. But….in terms of fun……we both scored big points.

Probably the only other memorable event was our trip across the bridge over the Columbia River into the state of Washington. The bridge is more than four miles long….the longest bridge in the Pacific Northwest. It was an impressive experience for me….and for Fayez, too. Let’s face it…..there are not a lot of four mile long bridges in the state of Kansas…..and probably not in Saudi Arabia, either. However, once we reached the Washington side, there was not much to do except take a picture of the Washington state welcome sign….take some pictures of the bridge…..and head back over the bridge to our campground.

We probably didn’t stay long enough in Nehalem Bay State Park….or in Manzanita. But….there is always “next time”…..and there surely will be.  Because this is…..Paradise.