Our experience in Oregon up to this point had been limited to Portland, Oregon’s largest and most well-known city. “Keep Portland Weird”, reads the unofficial motto, an attempt to celebrate the independent thinkers and counter-culture creatives who flocked to the city the past few decades and turned it into the hipster mecca it is today.
But after 12 hours slowly meandering our way up the Oregon Coast, it became clear to me this idea of ‘let me live life the way I want to live it’ was not invented by the progressives in Portland. If anything, hipsters the world over descended on Portland precisely because this ethos of independence was already deeply ingrained here in Oregon.
Fishing villages. Farm country. Hippie towns. Surf Spots. The dozens of small communities we traveled through that day, vastly different in many surface ways, shared essential characteristics.
An appreciation of nature, wildlife, the land, and the sea around you. Pride in community and uncertainty about outsiders coming in wanting to change things. A wild spirit, that has nothing to do with political affiliation or belief, but all to do with living sustainably, preserving the natural beauty, and protecting what makes your home so unique.
I learned later the Oregon Coast is also known as the “People’s Coast”, a designation that stems from a pair of 20th-century laws that established the entire 363-mile shoreline and all land within 16 ft of the low tide line as belonging to the people.
it was hard to pin down exactly what to do with only 1 day to spend. A few good friends from LA had visited the prior year and come back with nothing but great things to say about the beaches, the scenery, and the seafood (and given us a few recommendations), but it was clear 1 day would barely scratch the surface. Nevertheless, we were determined to make the most of our limited window.
As mentioned at the end of our previous “USA Road Trippin’” post, we set up camp in the dark. The dawn light revealed that our tent site was set on a beautiful farm. Horses grazed on green grass near and far, the tops of the nearby hills still shrouded in the morning fog.
Campsite on the Rogue River
We packed up quickly and hit the road with our final destination for the day Blair’s brother’s house in Tacoma, Washington. It was the 4th of July and a day spent cruising through small towns on a road trip felt pretty appropriately Americana.
We turned back onto the coastal freeway at Gold Beach, pulling over briefly to snap some shots of the Gold Beach bridge in the morning haze. Bridges, we would come to discover, are another defining feature of this section of Highway 101; architectural marvels that add even more drama to an already dramatic coastline.
Isaac Lee Patterson Bridge (across the Rogue River) Gold Beach, Oregon
Rogue River, Gold Beach, Oregon
From Gold Beach, our first order of business was to get our toes in the sand and check one of Oregon’s famous beaches. We pulled off at Arizona Beach and took a brief walk around amongst the tidepools and driftwood. The fog was still pretty heavy but it created some great lighting for photography.
Arizona Beach State Park, Oregon
Port Orford, Oregon
Heading further north, we decided to make the most of the sun that had finally peaked through and get in a little coastal hike on the headlands at Port Orford State Park. Port Orford claims to be the westernmost town in the lower 48, and the hike we chose offered us our first real glimpse of the impressive views that had been advertised. After a short descent from the parking lot and through some forest trails we emerged onto the (very windy, hold onto your hats) coastal bluff with a striking view north to Cape Blanco. A worthy stop for sure.
Port Orford Heads State Park looking north to Cape Blanco
We made another quick stop at Face Rock State Scenic Viewpoint to check out a bunch of seastacks, one of which (like the name of the place gives away) looks a lot like a face, in profile, looking up at the sky. HERE is a recounting of the interesting story behind the rock’s name, as passed down from a local indigenous (Coquille tribe) legend, featured on the signs as you look out.
Face Rock near Bandon
Now we were hungry. We headed to Tony’s Crab Shack in the town of Bandon, a place recommended to us by our friend Griffin who Andrew trusts implicitly for food recs (and the list of people for whom that is true is pretty short!) - and it did not disappoint!
Fresh-as-could-be oysters and crab washed down with a local beer, it was time to pick up the pace a bit! We still had 5 and a half hours of driving to get to Astoria, our northernmost point before we cut in towards Tacoma.
We drove out of Bandon, through North Bend/Coo’s Bay, across the mile-long McCullough Memorial Bridge, past the giant Oregon sand dunes, and into the Oregon Coast’s central corridor - a more-populated and less-rugged portion of the drive where we finally started to feel the 4th of July happening around us.
Stands selling fresh cherries in star-spangled buckets, others selling fireworks, littered the roadside. In Florence, where we stopped to use the facilities, American flags were hanging outside every business in town.
The weather by this point in the day was holiday perfection, and everyone was out enjoying themselves. Each small town we passed through was full of life, breweries (of which there were many) full to the brim. Every side of the road viewpoint is packed with RVs and campers.
But we had to stay focused. Aside from a few stops to check out the odd lighthouse or seastack or pick up supplies we pushed on. Besides, the scenery, even from the car, was pretty much nonstop entertainment. At one point, the road bends inland for a time into more farmland-type territory through the town of Tillamook (with its world-famous cheese) and we didn’t even stop for cheese!
Oregon Coast Seastack
Siuslaw River Bridge into Florence, Oregon
Beach on the Oregon Coast
We arrived in Astoria, the coast’s northern gateway town around sunset and ready for our next meal. Astoria was an instant charmer with its Victorian-style houses set on the hill above (another) iconic bridge that stretched across the mouth of the Columbia River.
From the ‘Visit Oregon’ website:
Founded 200 years ago at the beginning of Oregon’s North Coast, Astoria has been through boom and bust times more than once, weathering the collapse of both the Columbia River fishery and Oregon timber industry.
It has risen once again as a cultural haven, often referred to as “little San Francisco.” Astoria is an old place that is newly hip. Here, Victorian mansions and maritime relics live in harmony with chef-driven restaurants and tattoo parlors.
How can you not love a place that speaks about itself with such a melancholy surety?
We found a local brewery with some good food and beer flight options and fueled up for the final 2 and a half hours of what would ultimately prove to be our longest driving day of the entire trip.
Beers at Fort George Brewery in Astoria, Oregon
Night fell as we pulled out of Astoria and as we crisscrossed various bridges and highways out of Oregon, across the river into Washington and onto Tacoma.
Fireworks shows were bursting off in every direction, from dozens more small towns with names unknown.
Not a vantage point I’d ever have recommended for enjoying the 4th of July, but ultimately kind of perfect.
We finally made it to Josh and Ruthies’ around 10 pm, exhausted but entirely charmed by the Oregon Coast and vowing to one day return with a bit more time on our hands.
Time to hug baby Jackson and rest.
- A & B
