Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Oregon is Calling Me (part 3)

Leaving Eugene we headed for the coast; finding our way along the friendly bends of Highway 20. This was our first time passing through Corvallis, which was cooler than I expected. It's potential not yet fully realized. The road ended in Newport, a coastal town similar to many. Yaquina Bay was beautiful, as well as industrious. It was nice to know that a coastal town could have a working personality, rather than becoming just a tourist destination. This coastal adventure was licking us in the face with damp salt air. It was time to stretch our legs and take full advantage.

Coastal Oregon - While taking in the sites and smells of Newport we found parking and needed to munch on something. We decided to a grab an adult beverage and a snack at Rogue. We also purchased a limited edition bottle of their purple jasmine rice pale ale. Proceeds benefit the research for coastal starfish. We saddled up and continued tracing up the Pacific.

Otter Rock
Our next mini-detour stationed us at Otter Rock. A spectacular display of rugged coast, jagged and covered by the moist air. It created a mix of sound and site. The potential to see otherworldly life is real. Leisurely we crept north, discovering a region that resonated profoundly. Siletz Bay and the surrounding area had an unexplainable appeal—I will try however. A single place that resembled both the Great Lakes and northern California. It felt like a hybrid of the two. Now imagine if you can, that those places had a baby, and that the baby was on steroids. That's Siletz Bay. And I could live there...

Cape Kiwanda and Haystack Rock, just to name a couple, are breathtaking. Their geological stories and continual inspiration have created a vibe that feels almost too good to be true. Or maybe it's because I live in California where regulation looms too large. Pacific City is worth the adventure. It's chill and peaceful in ways that only a small town can nurture. Not-to-mention the pace, which can swallow you in as the day drifts by. We drove onto the soft sandy beach and converted our Element into an ocean front cabana. Intoxicated by the views, we ambled into Pelican Brewing. The sunset and tasty suds were just what the doctor ordered. We kind of went for it and ordered clam chowder, salads and a delicious flat bread with roasted peppers, chicken, arugula and kalamata olives. There were of course more than a few ales consumed.

Pelican Brewing Co. | Pacific City, OR
By the chance of lucky timing we were able to enjoy a Silverspot IPA. This colorful ale helps fund habitat conservation efforts for the Silverspot butterfly. My postalco reminded me of its pleasant spice. The hop blend consists of Fuggle, Sterling and Meridian. 6% | 55 IBU

Another to note was the Dirty Bird, differing quite a bit from the beer mentioned above. It had an almost bubble gum, fruit-like taste. Hops include Centennial, El Dorado, Magnum and Meridian in this northwest-style IPA. 7% | 65 IBU

We also consumed a fair amount of the Kiwanda Cream Ale. With our belly's full and our gift bag in hand, we nestled in for a cool night of car camping. The coastal sounds soothed the energy of an inspiring day. Waking up in Pacific City (with a bunch of rabbits!) we set up shop once again on our beach front property. Being first to the beach allowed us a framed view of Haystack Rock. Believe you me, blankets and crash pads never looked so good. Later in the afternoon we mashed some of the best fish tacos north of Baja. Enough time would pass, forcing us to continue onward. Thanks Pacific City.

The Wilson River
A small pit stop in Tillamook allowed us to refuel and mentally prepare for Portland. Coursing along the Wilson River, we could not help but notice that the landscape was void of homes. Instead, the forested mini-mountains that hugged the panorama were undeveloped. The natural beauty of the Wilson River Valley was refreshing and inspirational. Not being in a rush is fundamental to relaxing—nature's clock has always kept the proper time. Pulling over unannounced, I noticed a small foot trail into the trees. Carefully we walked from outer riparian to inner. As the last few limbs of green life clutched to the banks of soil, we were now in the traditional bed of river rocks. Quickly we assessed the area. We were alone. There are few things as refreshing as the cool water of a clean river. We seemingly had this entire little valley to ourselves. Swimming and lounging alone on the sun-warmed stones made us feel unconquerable. A cold Oakshire cucumber Berliner Weisse doesn't hurt either. I think we both felt like river nymphs, literally soaking in the day and rightfully so. This was a journey within the journey; a new found treasure that may call us back. The Wilson River had reinvigorated us for a night on the town. Portland was on the horizon.

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The final installment of Oregon is Calling Me is coming soon.

eightychoices.

part 1 - part 2

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