Salt N' Pepper Revisited

A few days ago on one of the only sunny days on the southern Oregon coast the family and I embarked on a visit to Salt and Pepper beach south of Port Orford on 101.  My mom, sister and brother-in-law hadn't been yet and they needed to see such an outstanding place.

 The day couldn't have been more perfect for a December coastal day.  Trailblazing down the hillside, slipping down the mud and tripping our way through blackberry vines quickly warmed us up.  With the sun shining it felt like a perfect sunny day.

 I've said it before and I'll say it again: this is the most spectacular beach I've seen.  As you walk down the final grassy hill and look down upon the beach you can't help but feel part of a mystical place.  There are no buildings, electric lines, roads; there are no sounds other than the boom of the waves crashing on the rocks. It's as out of this world as I've been while staying right here in Oregon.

When I'm on Salt and Pepper beach a feeling of peace washes over me.  Maybe it's my brain waves syncing up with the tide.  Maybe it's the memories I have as a child splashing through the waves.  The sun rays peaking through the clouds and the glow of the blue/gray ocean balance and calm me. I want to do yoga, sleep and run when I come to this place.

It has been such a good week down in Port Orford with my family.  We haven't been all together for several years and this time has been memorable.  I wish we could all stay here for at least another week, and yet real life awaits.  My sister and bro-in-law will fly out shortly, I'll be heading to Portland and my brother off to where ever the wind takes him.  It's sad parting ways, I only hope we'll all be together sooner than it took last time.

How Lovely Are Your Branches

A week ago I hopped on the train from Seattle.  My sister and brother-in-law got on a plane and my brother took his car. We managed to coordinate our arrivals within a half hour of each other in Portland.  Shockingly there were no delays.  We then proceeded to make the 5 hour drive south to Port Orford where we have spent the week lounging and making the most of family time.

A couple days ago we woke up to a gloriously sunny day and knew it was the perfect day to find our christmas tree.  Throughout my childhood we spent hours and hours driving the logging roads in search of the "perfect" tree; of course, this rarely happened and we could never agree on a tree.  Usually the search would end in desperation as the sun dropped and the rain fell and we were left with a scrawny Charlie Brown tree. Honestly, the tree doesn't really matter; it's the adventure and tradition that means the most.

We all packed into the truck and began the drive up China Mountain.  Not ten minutes passed when my brother spotted a nice tree on the side of the road.  We inspected it and knew it was perfect.  Luckily, my conscience was eased when we noticed it had a disfigured trunk and was growing a steep hill not suitable for survival.

Utku got down to the business of sawing it down with our less than sharp blade.  With such a small trunk, the tree came down quickly.

 The speed in which we found and cut down the tree was unheard of so we spent the remainder of the afternoon seeing the sights and going to the beach.  It's times like this when I so happy to be an Oregonian.

Later that night my sister and brother put up the tree and we all decorated it.  Not the greatest picture, but believe me it is one of my favorite christmas trees yet, made even better with the smug satisfaction of finding the perfect one deep in the wilderness. 

Climb the mountains and get their good tidings

To kill some restlessness and jitters last week, my brother and I decided to make the trek up Humbug Mountain. Humbug is part of the state park about 7 miles south of Port Orford. The mountain is notorious for its steep trail to the summit which is a killer both going up and coming down. We started out in the cold and dreary day. 

As we started up the trail we were taken by surprise by the out of this world misty fog and beauty.

 Environment so lush and ripe that every inch of ground is taken up by ferns, trees and plants. So fertile and untouched you expect to see saplings shoot up and grow before your very eyes.

Imagine a real life Jumanji and this is what you will see. So rich and vibrant it is only magnified by the fog and drizzle.  Lucky for us the trees provided such good coverage we barely go damp.

 By the time you reach the top your legs are like jello and the descent isn't much better for bad knees like my own, but it is all worth it in the end. Mission kill anxiety? Complete.

So Spectacular You Can See The Earth’s Curvature

It is as close to the end of the Earth you can get.  A place so enormous, so profound you can see the curve of the Earth, the swell of the see and the horizon  stretching as far as the eye can see.

The trail around the Coast Guard Hill Heads in Port Orford is the most beautiful couple miles I’ve had the privilege of seeing in all my 27 years.  Every visitor to our house, everyone of my visits home (and there have been many), every holiday, a hike on the Heads is in order. 

I am not a religious person, but these cliffs looming over the powerful Pacific ocean are a spiritual experience.  I guess I just worship at the church of the great outdoors. 

I went to the Heads on two separate occasions.  The first with my brother and the second with my mom and brother.  Both were different and both spectacular.  And in case you were wondering, these pictures are not edited.  Oh the beauty of my home state!

I'm on a bus.

J and I woke early and hit the road after a 72 hour delay (mainly to watch the Ducks win the civil war) and drove straight through to Eugene.  The highway cutting over to I5 is so beautiful and changes season to season.  We made it to the train station early for me to buy my ticket and headed out to a Mexican market to get some of the best burritos I've had.  

After a saying by to my brother I awaited my chance to board the bus to Portland (where I will transfer to train to Seattle).  I watched a Japanese exchange student bid farewell to her host family and friends that ran up at the last minute and finally board the bus in tears.  Oh how I hate good byes.  I'm so thankful to be back on the west coast and spared the painful departures I endured these past years.  

Now I'm on the bus and in 7 hours I'll be reunited with Wojc and Seattle, the first city I fell in love with.  I'm getting more and more excited about possibly moving back to Seattle.  I lived there for about a year and  a half as an undergrad at the University of Washington.  I little piece of my soul turned dark the day I moved down to Eugene (dramatic much?) and the thought of heading back is getting more and more exciting.  

On another retrospective note, Eugene grows more and more appealing each year that passes.  As a student there, I liked it but I was a little more jaded; now, post New York? It seems like a liberal paradise. Either way, I'm excited to be heading off on adventure and I see really positive things in the coming month.  

Teach Me How To Duckie

If you are from Oregon then you probably know by now that the University of Oregon Ducks are heading to the National Championship. Which is amazing.
I'm not usually a huge sports fan unless it's the Olympics, the World Cup or the Yankees (be still my heart); but as a proud University of Oregon alumnus, ever since my first football game I've been loyal to the Ducks.  Sure, I might not really watch all of the games but how can you not get behind such a good team, rowdy crowd and sleazy mascot? In celebration of the recent victory over the Oregon State Beavers, here's a little homage to the Ducks.




These clips make me miss UO and the crazy people who live in Eugene.  A creative bunch to say the least.

Salt And Pepper Beach

It was a rainy, dark day but that didn't stop us.

In Port Orford, you have to force yourself to go out and brave the elements.  It's easy to get sucked into all day marathons of Millionaire Matchmaker with the chilly air and flood like environment outside.  

Well Wojc, my brother J and I needed to get out so we headed south on 101 a few miles and pulled over to the side of the road, walked down the highway until we found a suitable deer trail to follow and headed down.

Steep terrain, mud, creeks, rain, blackberry bushes, and tall grass couldn't stop us.  We plowed forward in search of a secluded beach.  The colors were spectacular; dark glowing rain clouds, vibrant blue ocean and green foliage.

The view of the isolated cove was out of this world.  Giant rocks, grassy fields and crashing waves gave the impression of a different world, a planet totally isolated and unaffected by development. We spent the time exploring tide pools and rocks and marveling at the black and white pebbly beach that give it its name of Salt and Pepper.

We really lucked out with the rain clouds holding off just till the end of the hike back up to the car.  The beach was one of the best I've seen, a place that you imagine only seeing in your dreams.

Lucky for Wojc, during our beach combing he found an old glass float that is an extremely rare find.  I wasn't so luck and only scored some orange plastic ones.

Over The River

Last night, my best friend of the past 25 years (give or take) invited me up to dinner at her new place way up the river.  It is a truly beautiful house with an amazing deck that overlooks a huge pasture.  The house is surrounded by woods and one of the cleanest rivers you will ever see.
Of course it was a pitch black rainy night with pretty bad visibility for my already weak eyes.  The drive is a breeze until you get to the final obstacle: a swinging bridge over the bitterly cold river.  It's quite the experience and above is a video from this past summer when I crossed the same bridge in broad daylight.
Luckily, visiting Lena is totally worth risking my life ;)

Oregon

I wake up to utter darkness with no sound but the steady pounding rain outside my window.  I'm home.
Port Orford is a step back in time, a much needed break from the fast paced rest of the country.  The quiet used to wake me. Startled out of sleep without the comforting roar of Harlem outside my window I'd wonder what was wrong.
Now, the darkness unencumbered by street lights, the sound of rain, the view of wild turkeys and bucks wandering carelessly in the yard.  These things are comforting, a reminder of my past.
Cards by the fire, knitting of scarves, family, the wet outdoors.
Oregon.
I'm home.

I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests. -Pablo Neruda