Friday, August 11, 2017

Driving by the Seat of My Pants in Oregon

     My frustrations during the last 24 hours remind me of pilots who fly by the seat of their pants. The expression "flying by the seat of your pants" means pilots with no navigational aids, no place to land, no radio, no luxury, and no plan. Somehow that thought soothes me. Plus, flying and driving into fog or smoke, probably a combination of both, is no fun.



     Looks like a black and white photo (above), but it's not. It's actually a photo of the four-mile long Astoria–Megler Bridge which bridges the coast of Washington with the Oregon coast (click here for location on map).

    Immediately across the bridge in Oregon I stopped by the Fort Clatsop National Memorial which is where Lewis and Clark's expedition had built a fort to wait-out the cold, damp miserable winter months from 1805 to 1806. This is a replica of their high-walled fort (to deter theft from native Americans, a constant problem on their journey). One of the best books I've read about the entirety of that expedition is Undaunted Courage by Stephen Ambrose.




  There are pleasant short trails near the replica of this fort.



     There's also a statue of Sacagawea, the Shoshone woman who accompanied her husband, despite being pregnant, on the expedition as a translator, guide and much more. Clark astutely wrote that she "reconciles all the Indians as to our friendly intentions. A woman with a party of men is a token of peace." Especially a pregnant woman!



     I soon discovered that driving down the coast of Oregon with no plan and no campground reservations is frustrating. The coast of Oregon is dotted with state parks; I counted 99 state-owned recreational points/areas just on the coast alone. Quick math, it's 331 miles from the north coast to the south coast of Oregon, so that's a state parking lot or park every 3.3 miles!! Add the commercial RV parks in the same area and you quickly understand the traffic congestion. Probably all the parking lots look like this one (below photo).



     Fortunately I had ridden my bike to this parking lot at Ecola State Park from the town of Cannon Beach (click here for bike route) so I was fortunate not to join the parking fruckus. The ride winded through hills of mossy trees and ferns galore.


     But once I got to the dead end, Indian Beach, this was the dismal view (photo below). Despite the week-long smoke/fog issues, it didn't seem to deter any visitors.


     With the possibility of paddling my waveski now looking dismal also, there was one more thing I had to do before leaving this madhouse -- look at the horses at the stables in Cannon Beach and possibly do a beach ride to the iconic Haystack Rock. Sorry, no photos, but the only two horses that could trot was the guide's horse (an Arabian off limits to riders) and a Haflinger horse which wasn't available for the Haystack ride the next day. All the other horses were super friendly and dependably safe for amateur riders but very fat and very non-athletic. Sitting on a horse that refuses to do anything but walk is boring. Frustrated, I left the coast and drove inland by the seat of my pants. I ended up at a parking lot trailhead to Saddle Mountain (photo below) for supper.



      The trailhead and a campground at Saddle Mountain is located at the end of a scenic seven-mile paved road in the Saddle Mountain State Natural Area. Supposedly on a clear day (but not today), a climb to the top rewards you with a view of the ocean to the west and the Cascades mountain range to the east and north. The campground was also "full" and crowded with folks on this hazy Thursday with limited visibility.

     Now very frustrated, I drove further inland to Portland despite my dislike of cities. From various readings and info from a good friend David, Portland was worth a visit. For whatever reason, I ended up "lost" in the Pearl District of Portland. I was impressed (click here for Wikipedia's excellent description of this city's neighborhood). If I was forced to live in a city, I would choose the Pearl District. It's a bike-able, walk-able vibrant neighborhood with oodles of folks out and about strolling, mingling, eating at sidewalk tables, and enjoying the outdoors. Traffic is slow (not noisy or hectic like most cities) and electric streetcars frequent the narrow streets which remind me of European narrow streets. But, parking (landing) is a problem :( So I must continue to fly on . . . .





4 comments:

  1. Soon, you will find Paradise ! Just don't give up yet !!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Your current wandering reminds me of the title of a book by Barb Thacker, another van wanderer: SINCE I DON'T KNOW WHERE I'M GOING, I'M NEVER LOST. Good read.

    ReplyDelete