Oregon - Day 8 - north along the coast past Florence

Carl G. Washburne State Park, between Florence and Yachats

Sunday, 8 May 2022

It rained quite a bit during the night, and I hadn't realized just how soggy our campsite (north of Port Orford) was until I stepped out to take the dogs for a walk.  The water standing just outside our door was inches deep - Dexter tried to refuse to leave the RV, but I insisted.  He's a fair-weather dog and doesn't much like cold or wet weather.  And this campground was basically in the middle of a rain forest, so it was full of mud and ferns and evergreens and mosses and like that.

When I first got up, it was pouring rain - just pouring.  So I checked the weather forecast and saw on the radar that it would let up around 5:00, and I waited until then to take us out.  It was still dripping quite a bit from the sky, and raining a lot under the trees, but at least it wasn't pouring any more.  Dext really didn't like it, but he and Gracie still found things to sniff while I tried to be patient under an umbrella.

For our 2nd walk, we were a bit unlucky.  While I was getting us ready to go out (including the 5 - 10 minutes it takes me to get my boots on and 5 or 6 layers of shirts and jackets), the sun came out and I thought it'd be really pleasant for a change.  But as soon as we were ready to walk out the door, it started raining again.  We walked a bit, got back, everybody got dried off, and the sun came back out.  Figures.

Still, I was grateful that the campground's wifi signal was strong, and we stayed later than usual so I could use it for driving directions for the next several days.  I was afraid I might not be able to pick up an internet signal at the state park we were due for tonight and the next 2 nights after, so I plotted out driving routes to the next 2 campgrounds after today's, just in case.

today's route

I was finally picking up an NPR station and heard a piece of local history from 1936 about a terrible fire somewhere around here.  A firefighter heard his own home was catching fire, so he left the area where he'd been working and rushed home and did find it on fire.  He hesitated outside, trying to figure out what one item he wanted to save, knowing he had time for only one.  While he stood there, he heard his cow mooing from the barn, so he grabbed the cow and took off.  That night all the residents gathered on the beach because they'd all lost their homes, and the children all had cow's milk for supper.  Of course, a story like that made the news all over and one headline read, "Cow Bellows in Nick of Time."

We passed cows and sheep and someone selling blueberries.

At Bandon (pop. 3,583 in 2020), I was surprised to see the parking lot of the local grocery store almost completely filled up before 10:00.  Then I remembered today's Mother's Day and decided the whole town was buying last minute stuff for Mom.

I saw a sign saying "Don't Litter - Max Fine $6250."  There must be a story behind that odd number, and it's certainly the highest littering fine I've seen anywhere.

We came to Coos Bay, pop. 16,615, followed immediately by North Bend, pop. 8,930.  They seem to be twin cities, though I'm sure to the residents they're very different.  North Bend is home to the Mill Casino, the first casino I've seen since I left Nevada.

I'd planned a halfway stop at Simpson Park by the North Bend Visitor Center, but the park was full of playground stuff, and anyway the grass was soggy, so we just walked around the empty parking lot of the closed visitor center.  Their sign said, "Welcome To Oregon's Bay Area."

WWI boxcar sent here by France

explanation of the box car

As we were leaving, I noticed about a half dozen other cars had pulled in, with some folks walking their dogs and others just walking around, and I figured we'd gotten here at just the right time.

Almost immediately after I pulled out of the visitor center, we came to the bridge over Coos Bay.

This bridge, completed in 1936, is just over a mile long.  (See how good I'm getting at crossing bridges?)  It has these 2 cantilevered sections shown above, to allow large ocean-going boats to come into the bay; the rest of the bridge is in more ordinary arch sections like you can just see behind the trees on the left of the photo.  It was put on the National Register of Historic Places in 2005 because of its unusual design and its economic importance.

Just on the other side of the bridge I started seeing signs of the Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area.  As far as I can tell, the Dunes are about 40 miles of just what they say - sand dunes - stretching from Coos Bay north past Florence.  There's a chatty explanation of how the dunes were formed and photos and descriptions of what a visitor can expect to find here at this website.   https://traveloregon.com/a-locals-guide-to-the-oregon-dunes

From there for a long way north, we passed quite a few bodies of water: Tenmile Lake (the town of Lakeside says it's the Home of Tenmile Lake), Clear Lake, Winchester Bay, the Umpqua River.

The town of Reedsport claims to be "Gateway to the Dunes."

Past Reedsport and Gardiner, the road became winding and hilly and rainy.  At one curve, I got a quick glance down on the right into a narrow inlet far below the road.  Trees completely covered the hillsides forming the inlet, mist hovered about halfway up, and an unusual-looking bridge spanned the inlet between the 2 hillsides.  I wish I'd gotten a better look at that bridge, but the road I was driving was curving so much, with lots of traffic and hills, and I was afraid the surface might be slick from the rain.  That glance was all I got, but it sure was a pretty view.

But I also found a place to pull over and took this photo.

Can you just barely see the sliver of ocean shining in the sun beyond the hills?
It was too overcast today, and I couldn't lighten this photo any more
without losing the ocean altogether.

Then I came to the town of Dunes City.  There were absolutely enormous sand dunes right by the road - enormous as in the size of a 2-story house.  The view of anything behind them was impossible to get from the road, but I wasn't prepared to try to find access at this point.

All along the road I'd seen signs saying it was the Oregon Coast Bike Route.  I didn't see any bicyclists out today, and it was a really good thing.  With all those hills and curves and the poor visibility due to the rain and clouds, and with all that traffic (going to visit mom? taking her to lunch?), a cyclist would have been at serious risk of danger.

We came to Florence, pop. 9,600, with a beautiful old bridge over the Siuslaw River.

This is the center section that I thought was so decorative.

This center section is called a bascule bridge - essentially a drawbridge with a counterweight.  This bridge was designed by the same man who designed the Coos Bay bridge (above).  It was built in 1936.

I knew someone in Alaska who was raised in Florence, and I'm betting he wouldn't recognize it now unless he's been back for visits.  It reminded me of the changes to other towns I've seen - like East Greenwich, RI, where my momma grew up, or Marlborough, CN, where my husband grew up.  Or even Austin, TX, which has mushroomed from the pleasant town it was when I went to college there back in the 1960s and '70s.  You know the pattern - more people move in, chain stores move in, the entire economy of the town changes.  That's my impression of Florence.

All along US-101, I'd seen signs telling me it's designated the Pacific Coast Scenic Highway.  Anyone who's traveled it will agree it's certainly scenic.  But being designated a US highway and a scenic highway didn't turn the road into a straight thoroughfare.  I had to negotiate 2 switchbacks to get as far north as tonight's state park.

Just before I got to the park, I passed Heceta Head Lighthouse (that's pronounced heh-SAY-tah).  It has several distinctions, one of which is that it's among the most photographed on the coast.

Heceta Head Lighthouse

It was first lit in 1894 and, since a major rehab project, it's still functioning.  Its light can be seen 21 miles away, making it Oregon's most powerful lighthouse.  It's now maintained by the Oregon Parks and Recreation Dept., and the lightkeeper's house, which has been converted into a B&B, is operated by the US Forest Service.  It's probably pretty quiet out there.

We'll be staying at this campground for the next 3 nights.  Unfortunately, I'm picking up zero signal on my phone or on my hotspot.  Which means it'll be a pretty quiet 3 days.