Cape Perpetua

 

I didn’t know exactly what Cape Perpetua had to offer, but I was drawn by the name and the fact that it is a designated “scenic area.” In Oregon they take their scenics seriously. They have a lot to choose from. Only the best are granted the title.

No one seems to be willing to officially declare how the Cape got its name, but they will tell you that Captain James Cook was the first to reference it by that name in his ship’s log on March 7, 1778, St. Perpetua’s Day. That sounds pretty conclusive to me.

The Cape offered much more than I expected. The headland itself, the highest point on the Oregon coast at 803 feet above sea level, offers unique views of the coast afforded only by altitude. Wow!

And then we ambled across the highway to take a look at something called Devils Churn, a US Forest Service property that hadn’t even registered as a blip on my scenery radar. Wow, again! This skinny little inlet that the ocean eroded into the coastal basalt wreaks havoc with the waves. I could watch them all day, entering the inlet and colliding with previous waves that are retreating after slamming against the back wall of the inlet. When the tide is high, or the frequency and period of the waves are such that they collide with excessive force, water can project well into the air. All along this stretch of coast signs warn of “sneaker waves.” Steps allow you access to the water’s edge, but proceed at your own risk!

Here’s a video that Marcus made of Devils Churn. It’s low tide, but you get the idea.

https://youtu.be/zxR5jAnhBM4

There’s a nifty little coastal hike through the windswept Siuslaw Forest to Thor’s Well and Spouting Horn. Both are rocks undermined by the ocean to create little caverns. Eventually the ceiling of the cavern erodes so thin it caves in, which is how Devils Churn began. Spouting Horn is off of an inlet, rather than directly on the ocean, so it takes a pretty big wave at high tide to blow a spout through its hole. It was almost low tide when we were there, so we didn’t see any spouts, but we did hear a phenomenal thunderclap, like a huge bass drum, as the surf filled the cavern each time.

Thor’s Well (the name alone is intriguing) sits right on the edge of the ocean and has a wider aperture in the ceiling of its cavern, around 15 feet in diameter. You can walk out onto the rock and peer into it, if you dare. When a large wave comes in, it fills the well from below and flows up over the rim. The water pools on the rock around the well, and then drains back into the hole so rapidly when the surf retreats that it creates the effect of being sucked down into a very deep shaft. Magnificent!

Lots of sunshine and fascinating wildlife here today. Outstanding hike!

Yaquina Head Light

Yaquina Head Light

Yaquina Head Light

Pretty little Yaquina Head lighthouse at the mouth of the Yaquina River in Newport. Not to be confused with Yaquina Bay Light on the other side of Yaquina Bay. Lots of lights in this neck of the woods. Lots of rocks.

perspective

perspective

 

Newport across the bay

Newport across the bay

 

bird haven

bird haven

 

Fred and Fred

Fred and Fred

 

Devil’s Punchbowl

Devil's Punchbowl

Devil’s Punchbowl

Love this natural rock formation. We’re used to seeing the black, volcanic basalt rock along the coast. Now we’re seeing more sandstone. You can see the erosive scars from wind and rain. The name seems appropriate.

Lots of gray whales out there today.

And now for the obligatory scans up and down the coast from this vantage point….

looking north

looking north

 

looking south

looking south

 

Cape Heceta Light

Cape Heceta Light

Cape Heceta Light

It was a long day with an itinerary covering 190 miles of spectacular Oregon coastline. We managed to check out of our apartment in Gold Beach by 9:00, which for us is amazing. But then we got hung up by the stunning wildlife at Port Orford, the friendly volunteers at Cape Blanco, the intriguing walking paths at Coquille Point, the delicious Sea Star Bistro and the worthwhile Washed Ashore gallery in Old Town Bandon, and then the unbelievable dunes between Reedsport and Florence. Then the rain set in, and it was growing dark. We don’t like checking in to a new rental in the rain and the dark. All that unseen mud! We’d just have to chuck the rest of the itinerary and make a run for Newport.

I always plan more stops than we have time for, and my motto is “No regrets.” We do what we can. This is supposed to be slow travel, relaxed travel. Ix-nay on the ess-stray. As we headed to Newport, I was trying not to regret missing Cape Heceta lighthouse, reportedly one of the prettiest on the Oregon coast.

I looked up to see a sign for the Sea Lion Cave. As much as I like sea lions, I didn’t regret missing what sounded like a cheesy tourist spectacle—an elevator ride down the face of a cliff to gaze into a cavern full of Steller sea lions. I wonder what they make of that. Oh, look! Here comes another cage of tourists!

We drove on. And there it was—the coziest little lighthouse you could ever imagine nestled into the side of a rocky point, its beacon sweeping through the misty rain and out to sea. Cape Heceta! I didn’t realize it’s visible from the Oregon Coast Highway. We pulled off the road onto a conveniently situated overlook.

We rarely travel at dusk, so I’m not used to actually being able to see a lighthouse beacon. They tend to disappear in the light of day. But the rain and the hour were the ideal setting and that rocky backdrop the ideal canvas. Thomas Kinkade would have been euphoric. I stood at the overlook wall taking it all in. And then I heard the barking. Dogs? No, it was coming from the cove below us. Sea lions!

Sea lions!

Sea lions!

There was still enough light to peer into the waves 300 feet below us, and there they were. Dozens of sea lions diving into the surf in search of dinner. Dawn and dusk are optimal times to see animals in the wild foraging for food. Our timing couldn’t have been better. We stayed until the light grew too dim to see, then got back in the car and drove into the darkness. We arrived at our rental and unloaded our stuff in the pitch black (the porch light wasn’t working), but we didn’t care. Sometimes you see the most extraordinary things when you step outside your comfort zone.

Oh, look! Tourists!

Oh, look! Tourists!

Oregon Dunes

forest, dune, forest, ocean

forest, dune, forest, ocean

We’ve traveled more than half the Oregon coast, and we never grow tired of the evergreen forest that extends from the edge of the High Desert in central Oregon west to the Pacific, practically dipping its toes into the surf. Our barrier islands in Florida allow for only a thin strip of sea grape along a shallow dune, and much of that has been cultivated to prevent erosion of the dunes. Oregon is known for its dramatic volcanic headlands overlooking beaches strewn with sea stacks, those stubborn little knots of rock left standing on the beach after the softer rock around them erodes away.

dune

forest and dune?

So it was disconcerting to emerge from the Siuslaw National Forest on Oregon’s central coast to see not rock but sand dunes. And not just any dunes. These are massive dunes, some reputed to peak at 500 feet above sea level. According to Wikipedia, this is the largest stretch of coastal dunes (40 miles) in North America—the Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area.

sand

dune

Because of the rain that started just as we arrived, we weren’t able to get out amongst them, but the view we had from the Oregon Dunes Overlook was startling: forest interrupted by a wide belt of sand, so that we looked out over forest, then dunes, then forest, then—way off in the distance—ocean. Such an anomaly of nature. Who would have thought?

rain

rain

Coquille Point, Bandon

We heard there might be sea lions, so we stopped at Coquille Point. Didn’t see any, but loved this little beach. Even better than the many sea stacks in the water are the walking trails and benches along the bluff. Wish we had more time on our way to Newport….

sea stacks make the Oregon coast so dramatic

Sea stacks make the Oregon coast so beautiful.

 

Love these trails, benches, and views!

Love these trails, benches, and views!

Cape Blanco

view south from Cape Blanco

view south from Cape Blanco

Is it possible to grow tired of these coastal views? I don’t think so. Next stop on our itinerary: Cape Blanco, the westernmost point on the Oregon coast. (You know I have to chase down those superlatives!)

Cape Blanco lighthouse

Cape Blanco lighthouse

According to Fodor’s, this lighthouse sits 245 feet above the ocean and is the longest continuously operating lighthouse in Oregon (another superlative!). Its beacon has been guiding ships since 1870.

Port Orford

view from Port Orford Headland

view from Port Orford Headland

Very aggressive itinerary on our relocation from Gold Beach to Newport. 185 miles on the Oregon Coast Highway (US 101). It takes approximately four hours just to drive it, but we had stops to make—important stops. This is one of the most scenic stretches of the Oregon coast. Only the most serious players qualified.

First stop: Port Orford Heads State Park. Now, don’t laugh at the State Park title. In Florida, a state park is any scrub palmetto with a fire ring next to it. Oregon state parks are worthy of national park status by a Floridian’s standards. In Oregon, you can pitch your tent next to the Pacific Ocean, or a waterfall, or a volcano, or the Cascadia Subduction Zone. (Just kidding. In Oregon it’s illegal to camp where tectonic plates collide. Some environmental thing, I guess.) State parks in Oregon are very cool.

Nellie's Cove from Port Orford Headland

Nellie’s Cove from Port Orford Headland

So, back to Port Orford. The headlands alone are worth the short hike, but as we gazed out at the Pacific from our incredible vantage point we spotted gray whales frolicking in the kelp beds below, getting their fill of krill. That alone would have made my day. I have never seen whales without paying a minor fortune, dressing up in a very unflattering one-piece neon-yellow suit, and getting bounced around in a 26-foot Zodiac for three hours. Yes, the orcas were amazing, but that was one step above Sea World compared to discovering whales on your own.

gray whale off Port Orford

gray whale off Port Orford

There's the fluke!

There’s the tail!

Then we saw the seals, or sea lions. I would like to know the difference, but the Oregonians I have asked can’t tell me. They mumble something about the color. All I know is there are two varieties of each: harbor and elephant seals, and California and Steller sea lions. So we saw some of those, just lying around on the rocks in the sun like slugs. I’ve felt that way after a very large meal, only instead of a wet, slippery rock, I prefer an overstuffed sofa. But I get the sun thing. I only wonder if their dermatologists know how much time they spend on that rock.

seals or sea lions?

seals or sea lions?

And then Marcus spotted a ginormous four-legged mammal grazing on the ridge a quarter-mile away, its profile so perfectly silhouetted against the sky that I expected to hear David Attenborough describing the autumnal dietary habits of Cervus canadensis roosevelti, the Olympic elk often seen in these parts. It had to be an elk for us to be able to see it so clearly on the ridge at that distance. We hurried down the trail, hoping to get a closer look. And we did! It was a common mule deer. Dang! Must have been a light and mirrors thing. I think I saw her snicker as we moved on.

Canadensis roosevelti?

Cervus canadensis roosevelti?

Nope! Mule deer.

Nope! Mule deer.

So a short hike on our itinerary turned into a wildlife display that took half the morning because, frankly, I had a hard time tearing myself away. Some of the best things happen when you least expect them. Just be ready to abandon the plan and go with the moment.

Gold Beach

looking at Gold Beach, across the Rogue River

looking at Gold Beach, across the Rogue River

Gold Beach, the town we are currently staying in for a couple of nights, is on the south bank of the mouth of the mighty Rogue River–a certified Wild and Scenic River. You may remember we hiked above the Rogue in Medford (Lower Table Rock).

the Pacific Coast Highway bridge over the Rogue River

the Pacific Coast Highway bridge over the Rogue River

Unlike Florida, where they spend considerable money to keep the inlets dredged for commercial and pleasure fishing boats, sand builds up across the mouths of several rivers we have seen. It’s not until the Fall rains or the Spring snowmelt flood the river that there is enough volume to overcome the sandbar and go out to sea.

the sandbar that separates river from ocean, for now

the sandbar that separates river from ocean, for now

You have to love a town that provides shelter for its homeless cats and dogs.

03-homeless