The southern Oregon coast is a beach

I find I took dozens of beach photos today. I'll be very selective for this post, I promise.

Yesterday Jean explained something that had puzzled me Saturday: the evacuation route signs along the Washington coast, some of them pointing up narrow minor roads into the hills - nothing like the signs on Florida expressways indicating that almost all lanes can become northbound ones in case of a hurricane. Jean explained that they are tsunami escape routes in case of an earthquake, designed to get people in the immediate area up above the reach of giant waves with only a few minutes' warning.

Oregon's coasts have the same signs, and also signs along Route 101 that announce that you are entering a tsunami risk area when the highway drops below maybe 50 feet above sea level, and that you are leaving the risk area when the road rises again. Sobering.

This morning just south of Lincoln City, where I spent the night, I stopped at a wayside (Oregon's term for what Washington called a view point; back home it's a scenic overlook) with information about the risk of tsunamis along the northwest coast of North America. Apparently the area was devastated in 1700 by a tsunami that included a monster 50-foot wave. Native peoples passed stories down the generations about terrible flooding, loss of life and destruction of the land, and modern seismologists linked this testimony to evidence of a North American origin for a devastating tsunami that struck Japan in 1700. See, for example, this National Geographic article.

At the same wayside I took this peaceful photo of the neighboring cove. The small bush on the left-hand rock has been sculpted by the constant wind. I saw this effect up and down the coast but this seems to be my best photo of it. At this point the sky was gray, as it has been for most of my views of the Pacific.

About an hour and several stops to the south I took this photo of the Seal Rocks. I saw no seals, but look what I found! Clear sky coming to meet me from the south, and the gray Pacific had turned a beautiful blue. In the few minutes I was here the beach and rocks were transformed by sunlight.

As I was taking photos of the Heceta Head Lighthouse area from several waysides I heard the raucous comical voices of many sea lions, and finally got a clear view of the source: this group of basking animals just south of the lighthouse's cove. Thereby hangs a tale, of which I'll give you a very short version: Rachel's and my Alaskan honeymoon cruise in 2001 got us up close and almost personal with hordes of sea lions as well as seals, whales, black and brown bears, and other critters. On the last evening the 80 passengers played a guessing game something like charades, and the two of us brought down the house with our impersonation of sea lions.

Shortly after Heceta the coastline changed dramatically. The rocky bluffs with isolated beaches at their feet gave way to a long beach backed by tall dunes. I took this photo of the beginning of the Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area from the last bluff. The bluffs and spectacular offshore rocks returned later and I snapped enthusiastically away at blue waters and blue sky, but I'll spare you the results.

Every time I passed through a town of any size I tracked down its bookstore in search of Ursula Le Guin's recent novel Lavinia, another great bit of information from Jean. No luck so far. Now I'm in Crescent City, California, just south of the Oregon state line, in an old-style motel with Penny the Prius just outside my door.

After exploring the town's harbor, where I photographed more sunbathers on a floating dock (seals this time, I think), I saw the Good Harvest Cafe (no website) and gave it a try for dinner. It turned out to be a winner. They try hard to be organic, locally-grown, and heart-healthy, and my oyster po' boy with sauteed rather than fried oysters was delicious.

They call the Bay Area "northern California" but it's 430 miles from here to my next destination, Boulder Creek (longer the way I'll go, following the coast). I'll be driving through half of this state for about a day and a half and from what I've heard, it will be like traveling from one country to a completely different one.