Oregon: Part 2 – On the Oregon Coast Trail

Saturday 2nd August – Fish lake to Crater lake

We woke early, packed up and smugly made coffee on the jetty of Fish Lake Resort before anyone else was awake.

Snakes and I left Fish Lake Resort by way of a Trail Angel called Mike. For those not familiar with the term, ‘Trail Angels’ are people who help hikers. Sometimes they are just fleeting meetings that result in a lift, shower, laundry or a meal. Either a local in the area or someone passing through usually see’s your dirty legs and little rucksacks and wants to know more; you get chatting, then they want to give you food- or lifts or whisk you home and throw you in their shower- that sort of thing.

When I hiked the PCT in 2013 that’s all it ever was, they were angles because they popped up out of nowhere and preformed the most amazing kind of magic. By way of a salad or a ride or whatever. Unexpected, joyful. I didn’t hike with a phone then, so I relied on myself first and any extra help was a bonus. As it should be.

In recent years it has become more organised. People have started Trail Angel Facebook groups which are now inundated, daily, with requests from people requesting rides, accommodation, laundry and all sorts. The big advantage here is that it feels a little safer than going home with a stranger you’ve just bumped into, or sticking a thumb out and getting in a car with no idea who’s behind the wheel. The disadvantage is that hikers have become very expectant of this service. The magic is removed.

I’m still scratching my head wondering what motivates these regular Trail Angels who drive for hours around the country picking up these stinky humans, to pre-book these rides (sometimes days in advance) like a taxi service. I can’t comprehend what joy they get from doing this, other than the constant gratitude bestowed upon them and feeling very needed by hikers , maybe that’s just it.

It all works, and we were very grateful for Mike picking us up of course , but it felt less of an adventure somehow. We paid for his gas and thanked him for his time as he dropped us at Mazama Village having picked up another injured hiker who he was taking to get medical treatment in town. He does this three full days a week. For fun.

Now at Mazama Village in Crater Lake National park, we got orientated with the free hiker/biker campground (it’s pricey to camp here with a van or a big rig or car- but free to be on bike or foot). We picked up the box of food we previously mailed here from the store, and went and ate a salad in the restaurant. PCT hikers drifted in throughout the day – wide eyed and filthy.

Our pal Cookie arrived and we spent the rest of the afternoon at the campground with him, and ‘Phipster’ from Washington . Phipster lives in a van and gave us some tips on van camping in the US as well as some dehydrated broccoli from his resupply box. Two excellent gifts.

We stayed up later than ever before, set our alarms for 4am and slept too well for having not done anything all day.

Sunday 3rd August – Crater Lake

I woke at 3:57 and nudged snakes to turn off her alarm. I asked if she still wanted to hike up to the rim (the rim of Crater Lake) it’s about 5 steepish miles and her foot was not improving. She did. She wanted to see the lake at sunrise and was willing to take another hit on her foot knowing she could have a few days rest afterwards.

We took our essentials and left for the trail. It was pitch black, bar the incredible starlit sky. We could see our breath in the chilly morning air. We left the road and started switchbacking up the dusty trail, hiked a few miles of darkness through undulating woodland before steeply climbing up again towards the rim of the crater. We were rushing a bit, sunrise was 6:01 and we were to be late- our legs burning and our freshly laundered clothes now back to their normal filthy state- or, at least mine were, Snakes doesn’t smell , ever.

It was early light as we emerged on the road which circles the 17.2 mile round crater. 6:02am at the rim and we hadn’t missed the show. Only 4 other people were at this spot this morning, later today it would be heaving. We found an overlook all to ourselves and sat to watch the sun come up while making a little coffee on our stoves.

Crater Lake is the footprint of the once mighty Mt. Mazama whose repeated eruptions built a 12,000ft (3657m) volcano 400,000 years ago. It blew its top (and bottom) some 7700 years ago in an eruption that blew 12.2 cubic miles of pumice and ash into the sky. It changed the landscape for the Klamath tribe immeasurably and hundreds if not thousands would have perished.

For many years after, explores and settlers had criss-crossed Oregon and the lake remained uncharted – only Sharmans and power seekers dared visit the site after such an event left an enduring taboo on the ‘spirit infested’ lake. It took 740 years to fill, as the only inlet is snow and precipitation. It now sits as the deepest lake in the United States.

Naturally though, after crater lake was chartered, awarded the title of the ‘worlds 10th deepest lake’, after William Gladstone Steel introduced fish into the lake (irreversibly changing the ecosystem he fought hard to protect) it was designated a National park (Americas 6th) in 1902. Many local features such as Mazama Village restaurant, a local trail, canyon, and falls were named after Annie Gaines – one of the first two white women to reach the waters of the lake.

I’m sure she was a cool gal and all, but there were definitely other women who reached the edge of the lake before her – given that the earliest human remains discovered here were 14,300 years old, the local Klamath tribe were certainly in the area over 13,000 years ago and are also still living in the area now, but no, we’ll name the area after Annie.

Classic.

After our coffee and BoBo bar we sauntered along the rim at a leisurely pace. We were aiming for the lodge (Snakes likes lodges) and sat outside with yet another coffee for some time. The sun was warming us nicely and we had nowhere else to be- except inside the lodge eating breakfast which is exactly what we did by 9am.

The lodge was built in 1915 and suffered a series of hardships throughout its birth. It collapsed on many occasions, it was pronounced a huge fire risk on many others, it closed during WWII, many residents complained of its lack of heating and continuous works and renovations had to be completed to keep it upright. Nonetheless it stands now as a wonderful hotel, restaurant, bar and a place for filthy hikers to hang out in comfy chairs by the fire and charge all their electricals, like the freeloading scoundrels they are.

Snakes and I did just this after breakfast , her foot was in a bad way after our stomp up to the rim and I was mesmerised by the comfort of the fire and the constant stream of interesting people watching opportunities that came through the door.

We sat with hikers Cookie and Guppy for a little while as they charged their things, before they left to hike out on trail, we hoped to see them again in a week or so.

We left at 12:30- on the way out we saw Cookie and Guppy not 100m from where the lodge, Guppy now trying to open a bottle of warm Chardonnay with her massive hunting knife.

We left for the road as Snakes foot was too sore to hike back on the trail, I stuck out my thumb and left it out for all of about 7 seconds before a truck pulled in. A lovely couple took us the 5 miles back down the hill to our camp.

We packed up and left for the city of Bend tonight with a guy named Mike (not the same Mike as before) who was more than happy to make the last minute 5hr round trip from Bend, back to Bend. On route he picked up yet another injured hiker heading home and dropped us at a motel. I walked to the store to buy some much needed gherkins. Our first bed and untimed shower in a while, it was bliss. Thanks Mike !

Monday August 4th – Bend

Today was a proper zero , we had another night at the motel booked and nowhere to be. We performed a fair amount of morning meggling before heading out to explore Bend.

We headed for downtown which was less than a mile walk, like any US city outskirts walking is unexpected and not very well catered for. I’ve lost count of the number of random desolate industrial walks through US no-man’s-land Snakes and I have taken.

Old Bend is nice, right on the river and surrounded by nice shops whose welcome greeting is town-wide a friendly yet robotic: “welcome in” as you enter. After a bloody nice brunch we sauntered around town and then I was gunning for the underground bookstore. If we’re actually on a real holiday now I need a proper book- we bought 5.

We took refuge after a hard mornings saunter in a brewery where we made a solid plan for the upcoming week. I’d bought ‘the Oregon bible’ while at Crater Lake and it was proving very useful for our upcoming tour as a directory of interesting sights and hikes.

With a good plan of the days ahead we ambled back to the motel for some more humus and bread before a good nights sleep

Tuesday August 5th – High Desert museum

We packed our rucksacks, which now had the additional weight of 6 books, some wine, some shampoo and 4 days each worth of food (which we have little interest in eating but will because that’s our punishment for foot injuries).

We left in the morning sun, back on the streets that would prefer it if you drove, back through old Bend, over the Deschutes river and out the other side before popping out in picturesque suburban Bend and at our hired ‘Wandervan’ which was our home for the next 8 days.

The keys were left on the wheel arch and a thorough video was all we really needed to get settled in. It’s a Freightliner Sprinter (which was an offshoot by Mercedes). It’s fully kitted out with everything one might need for an 8 day jaunt around Oregon and California. There was no toilet, shower or masseuse, but we’d make do.

I drive a van at home, but this one is far heavier, and the need for me to be on the wrong side of the road and accommodate people that have zero understanding of roundabouts was a little tricky at first.

We drove some way out of town to the Goodwill (megastore) this was probably the highlight of Snakes trip so far, ruined by the fact that it wasn’t mine and she wasn’t allowed to spend all day there. We had a clear assignment to shop for a new outfit and something to sleep in – given we’d only brought one full set with us from home. Naturally that is not what Snakes came out with as she found too many ‘gems’ to choose between. I suppose I did make her crawl around a bookshop for about an hour yesterday.

We left here for a bagel as I was fatigued in the stomach area.

Then we went to Walmart to buy supplies. We needed more pants (we don’t have high standards but we definitely couldn’t get these from the Goodwill) and some soap and naturally some food. We have a fridge now you see.

We left here full of the joys of spring and ready to hit the road, which we did for all of about 7 minutes before stopping at the High Desert Museum. If you’re ever in Bend…. This place was amazing. They had reconstructed a sawmill, a settlers cabin, wagons and a full tour of how wildfires are mitigated, managed and not managed…. The exhibitions on the early settlers and natives were outstanding, informative, vibrant and colourful.

From here we drove about 90 minutes to a forest road. We have this new handy app which directs us to free camps, as well as actual campsites, showers and laundromats – the three main amenities we need in life.

It was quiet, forested, off the main road and free! Snakes spent a happy hour placing all our things about and ‘setting up’ while I made a big fat salad.

This feels more like a holiday!

Wednesday August 6th- Jedediah Smith State Park

After a peaceful night we made tea like normally holidaymakers and then we drank it. We were back on the road at a reasonable hour of the morning and stopped only once for big coffees on our journey to the South West out of Oregon and into California’s ‘Jedediah Smith Redwood State Park’.

We arrived in time to collect maps from the Hichoui visitor’s centre, make a big lunch wrap and head to the nearest hiking trail.

It was pretty stonking to drive up to the Liefer trail – we walked among the redwoods for 3 hours or so – it was amazing. And absolutely silent. We saw one other couple on the two trails we walked, largely because it was probably dinner time and from our experience any State or National park in which you’re prepared to walk more than half a mile into, you’ll have to yourself.

We made it back to the comforts of our van , now encased in sweat and dust. We drove to where our app said there was a good place to park up for the night and walked from here down to the Smith river for a much needed dip.

Feeling refreshed we set up camp and began the new and therefore exciting evening rituals. Snakes pottered around with a dust pan and brush (her mother’s daughter) hanging wet clothes and beautifying the space, while I made an even bigger salad than yesterday. We read relaxed until dark/mosquitos.

The van is equipped with little evening night lights and fans which we remained cool and read our books by before bed- lovely.

Thursday 7th August – Redwood Sate and National Park

Our alarms went off at 5am. I know, I know this is meant to be a holiday now, but we planned this for good reason.

We drank tea in the darkness and left for the Howland Hill scenic road by 5:30. It’s a gravel road and generally has room for one vehicle. It’s a very popular route with very popular trails off it. Later today it will be rammed with people who may or may not know how to drive their massive RV rentals that are not suited to that particular road. Also, we selfishly wanted these side-trails to ourself.

We hiked three of them by 11am and only by 10am as we were returning did we start to see other people. 8 miles of alone time with the redwoods and some of the most humbling and quietening organisms I’ve encountered.

These are the old growth redwood forests – that means they’ve never been logged. There are snags, fallen logs, complex crowns and a dense understory of plants that is reminiscent of Jurassic Park. They are the oldest and tallest trees in the world.

They are also some of the most effective carbon capturing environments in the world, they provide a life sustaining habitat for hundreds of living things, some species of which are near extinction (Humboldt Marten and Marbled Murrelet) and can only survive in old growth forest. The banana slug was fast becoming one of Snakes favourites.

The coast redwoods have an abundant water supply so despite their towering heights they don’t have to have deep roots , instead they have a shallow but extensive lateral root system which allows a network to form with the surrounding trees providing mutual support and stability against wind and floods. Mates, all of them.

The dead wood rotting is full of nutrients and life will cycle again on the fallen trunks of friends. Even the towering branches above have a forest of their own with trees shooting from trees.

By the time we got back to our van the parking alongside road was full. We smugly made coffee from the van and relaxed after our early morning efforts. We then drove off finishing the last few miles of the scenic drive now full of big fat RVs. Before arriving at the coast we popped up on another trail just for a couple of miles which entered the Redwood National Park (we’d been in the State Park previously). We collect pin badges you see, Snakes saw one of the ‘Redwood National Park’ she liked but didn’t think she was allowed to buy it unless she’d been to it. So…

We lunched back at the van at the trailhead and watched some horses unload themselves from a trailer wishing we were now about to ride them.

From here we drove the remaining 2.5 miles to Crescent City California and paid a mere $6 to be allowed into the local swimming pool. I would have taken one look at us and charged a lot more. We swam for all of about 4 minutes before taking the shower we actually came for.

The next stop was the laundromat- Snakes favourite place after Walmart and the Goodwill. Here all of our clothes got a good seeing to and we made plans for the days ahead while groping at the plethora of excellent wall signage.

An hour after arriving we were clean and laundered – to the brewery then. We drank beer at SeaQuake brewing and ate cheese curds which made me feel deeply unwell for the rest of the day. My poor salad and ramen stomach did not appreciate the deep fried cheese craps.

We parked on the pier where we think it’s ok to remain for the rest of the night and took a spin over to the wild coast to work off the cheese sweats. I learned Crescent City is prone to tsunamis and had their last one, last week. Oh great.

We retreated to the comfort of this amazing van home which were becoming more and more attached to as the days go on. Lovely.

Friday 9th August – Me-Tas

Much to my pleasure, we woke up in the van , not in the ocean. We made use of the included van table, chairs and stove and sat out on the now windless sunny harbour and drank tea.

We drove north out of town, but not before stopping at the Redwoods National Park centre for a pin badge and a quick resupply of fruit and croutons. We also purchased a 12 pack of soda as we have a fridge and are now the type of people who can drive about with cool sodas in the van.

Before long we saw a massive Goodwill which I was unable to avoid pulling into. I purchased some nice 99c glassware for the van and some very fetching shorts.

We arrived at the Samuel H. Boardman scenic drive which was a good few miles of sheer cliff edge beach view driving and stopped for a little look over the edge and out to the wild Pacific.

It’s very easy to imagine early settlers sailing the coast here searching for gold, searching for the Columbia , searching for a way in to this ritch land – this land that was still not settled by white men, long after the most Northern territories, the Yukon and the Canadian Arctic had been. Over two centuries ago it was one of the last great blanks on Americas map. It still feels very wild.

Gold brought the first settlers to the Pacific shore, Drake first; he didn’t like the weather and reported it as “most vile, thicke and stinking fogs” The coast was unfavourable to settlers due to the inclement weather and apparent harbourless Pacific coast. The Columbia was yet to be found and as such no route east inland. To avoid the Spanish around South American and the dreaded Cape Horn he sailed home due west via Africa and was hailed a hero upon his safe return. But still Oregon was unclaimed. (Except by the native people who’d happily lived here for thousands of years, mind)

Stories of many wrecked Spanish and British ships thereafter now litter the coast but soon Oregon would be opened up to Gold miners spreading out from California and beyond. Fables of undiscovered buried treasures hidden in the coastal mountains remain today.

We began our exploration up ‘Humbug Mountain’, named after the miner come explorer ‘William Tichenor’ sent his men slashing up and over the mountain in search of a new route inland for gold (unsuccessfully) naturally the mountain already had a name: ‘Me-tas’ given by the indigenous Tututni people, but who cares.

We hiked up lovely old growth temperate rain forest which was fortunately all in shade but it was unfortunately after I’d eaten a huge wrap for lunch and had a small nap and was therefore ill-prepared for this humid and dizzying ascent. The views were certainly worth it and even if they weren’t, the dizziness subsided after an hour or so of steep trail and endless panting.

The walk back down was naturally much quicker and I was full of beans at this point. When we got back to our little van home we rewarded ourselves with a chilled beverage and a sit down.

Not for long though, as we drove from here to a small desolate and ramshackle harbour up the coast in ‘Bandon’.

Bandon was initially eradicated of the areas Coquille tribe in 1854 after it was aggressively settled upon by a group of forty miners. The surviving natives were taken to a reservation in Umpqua. They kept coming back though and kept being moved off the land. In the 1870’s Shipyards and Swamills dominated the pioneer city and by 1900 Bandon boasted the largest fleet on the coast.

And then the city then burned to the ground, twice. Karma?

After being stripped of their tribals status having been declared ‘Americanizzed’ the Coquilles tribe kept returning – even after ‘Tupper rock’ the cities landmark and their once sacred site was blown up by the army and used for building jetties for the city , they came back and lobbied for reinstatement- which they won back in 1989. They then won back the quarry where Tupper rock had stood. So patient and enduring.

After arriving at the harbour we found the diver/fisherman/weirdo and whomever else might stumble across them- showers on the front. I had one and it was perfectly adequate. I felt cleaner afterwards than before and that’s all one really asks for in a shower isn’t it?

We went back to the town and after a stroll around we spent a windy night on the tsunami prone docks of Bandon- surrounded by other campers in the public parking this place clearly welcomed visitors.

Saturday 10th August – Shore Acres

Today was for the Oregon Coast trail and ‘Shore Acres’ a (now) State Park on Oregon’s coast, given over by a university dropout who inherited his Dad’s shipping and timber business (and all of his money) to build (before it burned down) an estate on a cliff edge, which then fell on hard times and had to be sold. I spent a while reading Lewis J Simpson’s story and that is an about the long and short of it. If you’ve ever seen a British botanical garden, you need not come here, if you haven’t, you probably still need not come here – but the coast surrounding this once important (to the social elite of Oregon and California) is absolutely stunning .

The gardens themselves are tired, unimaginative and uninteresting. They boast that something is on display every day of the year, which is probably what gives it its neglected, patchy feel. The Japanese garden is quite nice, a small jewel within a scrubby neglected space. Sorry guys.

The State Park is perched on craggy sandstone cliffs with strata to rival a competitive mother’s birthday cake. The Pacific is wild, whirling and full of life. We saw no less than one billion barking sea lions arguing on the exposed rocks at sea. Nothing about it is pristine, the beaches sport wild cabbages and driftwood and the cliffs are gnarly and intimidating- definitely my kind of beach holiday. We walked the cliffs for some miles then turned inland up and over a small mountain hill which we hoped for more of a view from- as we reached the summit the fog rolled in and we the land became foreboding.

We trucked back down towards the coast and looped back along the cliff edge, not before we’d consumed another ramen bomb, thus putting a dent in our never ending supply of trail food we still had. We added to this some dehydrated broccoli and some sun dried tomatoes – I must say, I was more than pleased with the meal, and the view.

A few more miles back the way we came and back to our van, in which, I remembered half way on our walk I’d left my passport, money and all manner of valuable things in. So did Snakes, but naturally she wasn’t remotely phased by the prospect of a break in and she deemed it too unlikely on a weekend, because “people were her to have a nice time” Happily she was correct and we returned to yet more admirers of the van asking us questions about it, as was becoming a bit of a theme.

We drank some well earned cups of tea before driving north once again to the town of Reedsport where we partook in a flight from the Two Shy Brewing company. Here we commenced a bit more panning for the reminder of the trip before setting off for a swift resupply at Safeway and retreating to the dog park where we had it in good authority vans and RV’s could park overnight. We also got to watch dogs until sunset. Statistically most dogs in America do get walked- but when I say ‘most’ I mean 59% leaving 49% unwalked. I guess the ones that do are ‘lucky’ the ones who get walked at Reedsport dog park get an average of 7 minutes.

Everywhere we’ve parked, every trailhead and every town there has been a toilet which in the main has been very clean and offered soap and running water. Not to mention friendly, chatty and interested people. If this was the UK, trailhead and parking toilets would be full of gammy tissues with un-emptied bins and all manner of litter disposed of in the corners. Make no mistake though, this does not however make up for the 49% of Americans not walking their dogs.

We made huge salads and read until dark. We’re becoming far too attached to this lovely van.

Sunday 11th August – Oregon Dunes

We woke in our dog park, flanked by tall pines and misty mountains. We sat peacefully drinking tea in the sun as the odd 49% came to walk their dog and happily wish us a good morning. Everyone we’d met so far was friendly and interested in our van and our journey.

We were just a little ways South of the Oregon Dunes, the largest expanse of coastal sand dunes in North America and one of the largest expanse of temperate coastal sand dunes in the world. Before heading out this way we stopped at the largest selection of pastries in the world at the Sugar Shack bakery and tried desperately to make a decision that wasn’t ’one of everything, please’. We settled and took our goods up the road starting out on our morning on the dunes.

Every day along this coast couldn’t feel more different to the last and this was no exception. After a tough but rewarding trudge through the beautiful mass of sandy mountains we humped ourselves up and over the last lump before being spat out on what felt like the moon. The wind was warm but strong , so before our Star Wars-esque beach walk to complete our loop we stopped, nestled ourselves in the dunes and made coffee and had breakfast pastries.

We donned windstoppers for the beach and with our hoods up it felt very much like another planet. A deep level haze sat over the Pacific which initially blended sky land and sea to a disorientating and slightly ominous effect. It looked as though a huge wall of wave was looming above the ocean as it wildly roared back and forth. To wade out into it would be almost certainly to never be seen again. Cataclysmic it was.

It felt like the end of the earth, swim 5,000 miles to the left and you’d reach Japan.

After a few miles we turned inland once again and finished our loop back to the van having successfully avoided being swept away by a tsunami, once again.

After about 3 hours of trying to get sand out of my shoes we jumped back in the van and drove a short stretch North. We pulled off aiming for a lake we had seen on the map, turned down a side road and without much effort or exploration found a parking area where for $5 we could remain, directly in-font of a swimming jetty for the remainder of the day. It was a lake side RV park which allowed day use for a fee. For some bizarre reason no one already there had picked the very best spot, which was left, happy for us. (Probably as it had no electric or water). We swam, and sat, and read and made lunch and then showered. We emptied our grey water tanks and replenished all our fresh water containers. $5 extremely well spent.

Feeling very fresh and very pleased with ourselves, if a little bit sun-kissed, we continued up to the lovely town of Florence where we strolled the harbour and streets, had a little beer and then went and ate a massive Thai meal before parking on an empty back-street just out of town.

Splendid

Monday August 12th

We woke up undisturbed once more and commenced vanlife breakfast routine. Today it was some granola given to us by the hiker Phipster some days ago, tea and coffee and a bit of a morning sketch for Snakes.

We continued North to a trailhead which would see us sumit a little coastal knoll to visit Heceta lighthouse, who lens was made in England and who’s light has been guiding ships as far as 21 miles out to sea since 1894. The lighthouse keepers house, Heceta house was yet more impressive especially as it’s reliably said to be haunted. It’s now a b&b so unfortunately I couldn’t prove this point .

From here we drove up the Perpetua head, and hiked three more short trails, one, inland to a 400 year old Sitka Spruce which sprouted on a ‘nurse’ log that has since rotted away- thus you can now walk through the elevated roots of said tree.

Then we headed back to the ocean again and passed the old and overgrown foundations of the 1933 Civilian Conservation Corps, a work centre which employed hundreds of young men during the Great Depression. These men build a large proportion of the local trails and roads, they were paid very little and sent most of their earnings home to family who were on the relief rolls. We popped out at ‘Thors Well’ a gaping sink hole on the edge of the coast continually swallowing the unbroken stream of seawater around it and continued along to ‘The Devils Churn’ – a big churny inlet which elevated sea spray as the ocean repeatedly pounds the rock, undercutting the edge of the earth.

The ocean here is wild and fierce and completely unforgiving.

After a quick shop for more radishes in Yachats (pronounced ya-haats) we made a ginormous salad and ate it while overlooking the ocean; we returned to Thors well where we had a little tub time and slept for the night. The booming sea crashing into my dreams and making sleep tumultuous and confused.

Tuesday August 13th

We have, of course, a nice little routine now with our little van- I feel I could go on living like this for a good while. A place for everything and everything in its place. 3 outfits, the thrill of the hunt for the next shower and the joy of the next visit to the outrageous and oversized laundromat. I just need that large orange poodle to join us and confirmation that working is no longer necessary.

Today was our penultimate day. We began, as we always do with cups of tea. Our little sink provides ample foot pumped water for a wash and we loll about , me reading and Snakes generally sketching or looking into the day ahead.

We hiked from here up the steep switch back hill to cape Perpetua head, a reoccurring theme here – The Alsea people, who lived in the area for millennia, called it Halaqaik, meaning “uncovered place” or “open place but Captain cook sailed past on Saint Perpetua day with the thick fog found it to be perpetually out of reach so named it as such – so naturally that’s what it’s now known.

The fog and mist was laying in a thick puffy blanket over the Pacific Ocean this morning and it didn’t leave all day- it looked like a chilly winters morning but it was still warm and sticky out.

We made it to the top in no time and continued on around the headland before peeling off on to ‘Amanda’s trail’ Amanda was a blind Coos native who was marched from her home in Yachtas 80 miles north to a reservation in the 1960’s and followed this poignant track- it’s a memorial to all the misplaced natives of the area.

After a quick snack on some mango, we turned back the way we came, back up and over Perpetua and down the side of the mountain. We lunched in the van and aimed for Newport where we could pay for some expensive showers in the fitness centre. Give me a grubby $1 marina any day.

We can tried on North to Otter Crest Loop and to an overlook to park for the night. Tomorrow was Whale day and this was a good spot to spot them.

Friday 14th August

After the usual morning meggle, and once tea was made, I situated myself in bed so I could look out across the Pacific for Whales – we’d parked side on to the sea and this fitted perfectly with my morning tea routine. Within about 30 seconds a couple of , what I think were Gray Whales blew their spouts on by as we gorped. I’ve never seen a Whale, I’ve ALWAYS wanted to so this was, although a distant, binocular-less and slightly foggy still a bit of a dream come true.

Once we were sure the Whales were gone we drove off to Depoe bay where we hoped to see more with the addition of coffee raspberry muffins – but we didn’t.

Today was our final van day and night, so having driven a good portion of the coast we now tuned east and inland, back to the mountains and the trees and back to the unbearable heat.

We visited the Evergreen air and Space museum as was Shelley’s request then went up to the hills to a vineyard to properly round off the second part of the trip.

Tomorrow we would drop the van an hour North in Portland, endure an emotional farewell and be collected by our pal Bear (you may remember him from the CDT series ) he would wrap us in his ample bosom for the third and final chapter of our trip.