The northern Oregon coast: mostly beautiful

Tonight I'm in Lincoln City, about a quarter of the way down the coast from Astoria, where I resumed my Highway 101 adventure. Why so little progress? Blame Father's Day and golf. Not that it matters - as I may have mentioned, I'm RETIRED and under no deadlines.

My former colleague Jean and I had agreed to touch base at 10 this morning to finalize brunch plans near Gresham. My illogical mind translated that into resuming my travels about 11. But Jean reported that all the good places were booked because of Father's Day; the best table available was at the Black Rabbit in the Edgefield Manor in Troutdale at 11:15. We later learned that a golf tournament was also going on, of course undeterred by the routine rainy weather.

I got there way early (I'd already checked out of my hotel by 10 and the restaurant was less than 10 minutes away) and had fun exploring and people-watching at this former Multnomah County poor farm, later a nursing home and now a historic landmark containing several properties of the local McMenamin's conglomerate. Instead of my photo of the building façade I'm giving you a bit of whimsy that charmed me: two signboards that greet guests as they come up the porch steps, and show departing guests the same messages painted in reverse as though they were transparent (they aren't). Ignore the guy, he just chose to stand in the middle of my photo. (Remember, click on any photo for a larger view, still only about one-sixth the original photo size.)

Well, one thing led to another and by the time our food actually came and we ate it it was 1:30. After saying good-bye to Jean I headed back to Astoria where I had left the coast yesterday. It was raining, of course, but only occasionally as hard as it had rained in Seattle yesterday morning, and the rain dissipated as I approached the Pacific. About 3:30 I turned south on U.S. 101; the first few miles were touristy sprawl and drivers unaccountably drifting along at five to 15 miles below the speed limit, unaware or unconcerned about the long lines behind them on the two-lane highway. Then things got better, with increasingly breathtaking views of the Pacific, the shoreline, and forested hills (with occasional far-off scars of timber clear-cutting). Here are two samples I thought you might enjoy:

The first is the beach at Manzanita, seen from a Highway 101 "view point" a bit to the north in a state park and high above the ocean. Several Oregon beaches, including this one, had surf rolling in that was even more impressive up close than it appears from this vantage point.

The second is a view up the coast from a commercial oyster pier in Garibaldi.  By this time mist had begun to close in, especially in higher elevations. I had just followed 101 across the height you see shrouded in mist beyond the trees, and the tops of the hills were completely hidden in the clouds.

Since this is beach resort country I called ahead to reserve a room here in Lincoln City. On the desk clerk's recommendation I walked a quarter-mile or so up the road, across the "D" River (a sign proclaims it "the world's shortest") and uphill, to the Pier 101 restaurant (no website, surprisingly) for dinner. I had my first-ever razor clams (I've seen only their empty shells on beaches) - huge, tough, and low on flavor compared to my beloved Ipswitch "belly clams." I also got a nice garden salad with peas and a glass of sour-tasting Oregon pinot noir. The service was good and friendly but the prices were excessive in my opinion.