You ever heard of this place? You have to slow down to 50mph on US 101, mainly to make the turn where the state beach, a hotel, and a few blocks of homes plus a tiny community up on the adjacent mountain/hill total a population of 134. Jeez, how many towns are there in lower Manhattan of homeless people of 134? This little, nauseatingly quaint, summer community gets a listing on a map? Is that how the world works outside of NY? In the sixties I grew up on Long Island in a suburb of New York City, a section of one gigantic, seemingly never-ending expanse of a megatown. Bellmore had its own post office and was listed in the 1960 census as having something like 40,000 residents. But, North Bellmore was bigger and often was printed on Gulf, Mobil, and Sunoco state road maps (remember them?) when little Bellmore was ignored.
In Oregon, 134 gets you on the map. If ever there was a case for the “God doesn’t care” argument, this is it! About fairness, that is. Or, perhaps this is proof of Einstein’s theory of relativity: “Neskowin is to Oregon as Bellmore is to NY. There, I just aced my SAT.” I mean, this is Oregon. Can’t get much further from NY. Am I digging myself into a hole? The truth is, the tiny beachfront collection of homes was charming. Any wise-ass criticism out of my mouth is driven by jealousy. If Oregon was a little warmer – I guess patience is needed (you know, global warming), perhaps real estate investment in the northern climes would be wise – I’d love to be a resident here.
We are about 115 miles north of Florence and more identifiably, about eleven miles north of Lincoln City (a lot smaller than Bellmore, or Breezy Point), but it does have a Safeway and a Walgreens. You need a larger reference city? Portland is 100 miles to the east-northeast.
Upon checking in to Neskowin Creek RV Resort (they have an indoor, heated pool so, ok, resort), a Coast To Coast freebie, I stopped at the tourist pamphlet rack. Among a few of interest, I had to grab this one:
I suppose Colorado has a similar one. I haven’t looked in Colorado racks in a long time. In Oregon, it seems like every little town with more than 134 residents has a pot store.
We arrived on Thursday, the 7th, and after a week in the woods, the wide open field WITH a sewer connection was welcome. The sign at the entrance, “Rabbits Can Eat Your Car Wiring”, was weird. We heard later that someone tried to sue them for that. Rabbits were everywhere in every color, shape, and size. Black, white, black and white, grey, brown, orange – big, small, even medium! With so many rabbits – had to be several dozen – or was it several dozen million? – the rabbit shit covered 197% of the park. Something like that. Anyway, Luna just wanted to chase them, when she wasn’t outnumbered, which she was most of the time, and eat their shit.
The RV park was a few huge hills (for you Long Islanders, they were mountains) and a mile from the ocean. So, we relaxed after the twisting, winding, up and down drive up 101. Sounds familiar, right? Been like that since Bodega Bay. No wonder we sleep ten hours some nights. I tried to sit out under the stars that night but clouds moved in as I settled in the lounger. Just as I came inside, the rain started.
It didn’t stop until Saturday morning. We drove south to Siletz Bay where we had heard from other RVers, online, that they actually found agates there. Andrea did the hunting. Luna and I cuddled up behind a log to hide from the brutal wind. My black t-shirt could not absorb enough sun to keep me warm. Across the inlet, the seals didn’t seem to mind, sunning themselves in the sand.
The agate haul was underwhelming, as usual.
On Sunday we decided to take a break from beaches and visit Tillamook. First stop, though, was a small “farm stand” whose ads offered asparagus soup. Alas, no soup. Typical roadside tourist trap disguised as a homey farm stand.
Next was the blatant tourist trap, the Tillamook Air Museum, in an old blimp hangar:
But, as we got to the parking lot, to the left,
I could see in the hangar – and see nothing. Then I read the pamphlet I had picked up when I secured the Oregon Cannabis Guide and Map. Though the museum billed itself as featuring World War II aircraft, the pamphlet listed just three WWII planes that weren’t trainers or transports of the eighteen on display. Even with the senior discount, I wasn’t springing for the $8.50.
So off we went to the Tillamook Cheese Visitor Center, a makeshift barn. Their new, impressive looking visitor center opens on the the 18th. The place was packed. We got six samples of cheese and bought an ice cream cone – rasberry vanilla with white chocolate chunks. Deelish! And then went to see if the Cape Mears Lighthouse was anything.
It’s an old, retired lighthouse:
You can get up close and take a tour, when the ranger is home.
The deck around it had some nice views.
That was to the south. Note the little beach to the farthest left. I’ll get to that.
To the north side is a cliff wall that looks like it has a lot of bird shit on it.
And it does, but the cliff is also home to the source of all that shit, a million murres, also known as white breasted Auks, some of which are Puffins. The resolution at that distance won’t let you zoom in well enough to get a good look at one. Here’s a little known fact: when the baby murres are ready to leave their nests on the cliff, they have two options, dive or fly. Which option do you think they choose? Right. “Now some they do and some they don’t. And some you just can’t tell. And some they will and some they won’t. With some it’s just as well.” Supertramp was one of those groups I mostly missed when I turned off the radio with the rise of disco. It took the BMG CD club, when I was replacing my vinyl in the ’90’s, to get me to really appreciate them. But, I digress.
Those birdies were a little more visible on these two rocks.
Beautiful place. A few days later we went back to that little beach to meet the in-laws, coincidentally in Portland helping their daughter move from Brooklyn!
My interest was in the surf patterns against the rock walls on the left side of the beach. When enough water gathered up against the wall, it would form a wave going out to sea. When a decent size wave coming in hit one of the outgoing, it was a show:
The explosions spread left to right.
When the sun peeked out the water was very green:
Neskowin Creek RV Resort. Again, excellent water, pure as filtered water and soft. After the one day of intense rain, it was nice enough. Most sites are out in the open – the outside rows back up to trees. The rabbits are everywhere, as are their droppings. Where are the Bald Eagles when you need them? I still haven’t seen one. No big birds in a week. Anyway, let’s give the resort an 8.
We had a hole in our reservations and managed to find a weekend site in Garibaldi. Next…
Carlin RV Odyssey 