Klamath River, CA
Elevation: 4,090 ft.

I had never seen a play. Well, I suppose I have seen plays in grade school and certainly have dabbled in acting in college - but I had never seen a professional play. Driving into Ashland I was excited to see one of the Shakespearean plays the Oregon Shakespeare Festival was so known for. The play was Much Ado About Nothing, one I hadn’t read yet. I was surprised to see that it was done in a contemporary theme with the soldiers in modern combat attire and the actors and actresses in hip clothing. The actors playing Benedick and Beatrice were sassy, full of attitude and on point! I had never had so much fun at a play before. After the play we roamed about Ashland’s downtown. I had driven past the little town on I-5 so many times before without giving it a second thought but walking past its many storefronts and restaurants I was overcome with the feeling that I should live here. The mix of tourist shops, local foodie spots and wandering, eclectic, dreadlocked youths (homeless or hippie, never sure) made the little thespian town all the more quaint. Did I mention that they had a restaurant that, coming from the BBQ coast, slow cooked the best damn pulled pork I’ve had in a long long time? Hands down the meat cup I got from Home State BBQ set the tone for my 4th break!

After lunch and much meandering we met up with Kim and her friends Teresa and Ben for a free show at OSF’s Green Show stage. It was the Chickspeare Improve group and they were a riot! Taking suggestions from the audience for a play on love they had everyone laughing. One of them even got off stage and began kissing random women in the audience (she was playing the role of a man trying to see which woman would be her true love based on their kiss and she broke the 4th wall and started kissing the audience too), it was hilarious and it was also how I knew I wasn’t in Virginia anymore haha.

We spend the night at Teresa and Ben’s cozy home in Medford. Full of musical instruments, pine cones and all around adorable collected things their home reminded me of the home I want to eventually own. Their backyard was filled with native grasses and plants and their dog, Sandy, was the absolute best!

The next day it was off to food shop and then back to Klamath River to gear up for the rest of break. The mission was the Oregon Country Fair and then a journey down the southern coast.

The fair was unlike anything I had ever experienced. The only fairs I have been to were small local ones as a child, big state fairs as an adult but never the Oregon Country Fair. in a few words it was like the naked bike ride met a renaissance festival and then crashed into a watered down Burning Man. The sprawling fair took place in the heart of a forest in Veneta, OR just west of Eugene. Vendors sold things ranging from leather belt pouches and wooden wares to edible plants and sustainable energy. I was blown away by the number of colorful costumes people wore, the number of dreadlocked folks (fight the good fight!) and the sheer amount of music. There was a main stage, a second stage and then buskers littered everywhere in between. And food. So much food going from Indian food to vegan BBQ! Unfortunately I was too stingy to pay for a lot of the options. So often were to portions small, the lines long and the prices high. I also didn’t buy much because there simply wasn’t anything that I needed and everything also seemed overpriced. Instead I people watched, listened to music and kept a tally of how many boobs vs. asians I saw. Yep. As wonderful and beautiful and adventurous the PNW has been so far I have to admit it isn’t very diverse. Save the city of Portland of course. Oh and that ratio was 13:8 with boobs being “pair of boobs”, of course. Towrads the end of the day we met up with our friend Matt who was volunteering at the Native Plant Society of Oregon booth. The booth featured edible plants and explained many of their everyday uses. Stinging Nettle even had a place.

That night we headed westward and camped halfway between I-5 and the coast. Our first stop the next morning was Seal Rock, OR where I finally got to the sea. Walking along the cool, windy beach I dug my feet deeply and longingly into the wet sand. For too long now I have been craving the ocean. The hot, dry days out here in the mountains have so been wearing down my soul (as you know). I love the work I am doing, mostly, but I know more than ever now that I will settle near the sea.

Driving north towards Newport we hit the Oregon Coast Aquarium and the Rogue Ales brewery! The aquarium was the perfect place to start our trip down the coast. It was filled with animals and displays pertinent to the tide pools and beaches we would eventually see. The aviary was filled with coastal birds that reminded me of my cousin Amanda and all of her work she’s been doing with them. I’m not much of a bird person but hiking with her and Khem and learning about the coastal species along the shores have been so interesting to me (a possible future job perhaps).

Rogue Ales has to be, currently, my favorite Oregon brewery. Their beers are always so imaginative and full of flavor. Their artwork is reminiscent of the work of Shepard Fairey and it’s obvious that they are a brewery serious about brewing quality beers as they are serious about having fun. Did I mention their parking lot is always filled with big rigs?

Next we hit the road and gunned it south. Our fist stop was Cape Perpetua where we hiked down to the coast and through tide pools. The hike was the perfect mix of well-maintained trail, aromatic conifers and salty ocean air. God am I dreading work tomorrow.

Leaning down close to an evaporated pool of sea salt I angled my camera low to the ground. My hopes was to capture an out of this world macro landscape. The rim of the pool becoming the distant ridges of some forlorn planet of slat and rock. The distant blues of the sky painting its clouds as the sky of this forgotten Interstellar-esque planet.

Stomachs grumbling we headed further south. Sunlight was starting to wane and we still needed to find camping. The mission was to be as far south as Coos Bay (the middle point of the southen half of the coast) by nightfall. Stopping in the cozy seaside town of Florence we were greeted by the smell of coffee, waffle cones and seafood.

On the road again we headed south. The sunset was quickly blotted out by stormy clouds. As we passed ATV-filled campsite to ATV-filled campsite we quickly realized that the Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area was just that. It wasn’t the pristine dunes of northern Minnesota and Michigan that Eleanor and I remembered. As we approached Northbend, OR we hit a fog bank. It swallowed the trees and the shore and it painted the world a cloudy, forlorn white that I had always associated with the PNW.

Running out of battery so I will have to speed this up, damn the gods for not placing an outlet on this porch. We camped at Eel Creek Campground. At a pricey $20 we were reluctant but it was better than the local KOA or Walmart’s parking lot. We discovered the next morning that it was the trailhead to a 3 mile roundtrip hike to the shore over the dunes the coast were named after. I ran into a guy in the bathroom the night before who described the hike as simply, Tatooine. And Tatooine it was.

As far as the eye could see the sand sprawled endlessly away. In the distance only a faint line of trees could be seen, a long hike lay between us and the cold, sweet ocean. Hiking on sand. It’s hard but something everyone should do. Cool to the touch, it broke away underneath our feet testing the strength of our thighs and knees with each step. After what seemed an eternity the sand broke away to reveal the edge of the forest. Their a well-worn path led through the trees to a boardwalk.

Which then opened up to a coastal shrubland. The likes I’d never seen before.

The ocean was sweet as ever it were. She greeted me with gently waves and a cooling breeze. Why ever did I forsake the gentle power of the ocean for such callous, malicous mountains? Like the Avett Brothers say, we all have worries to give to the sea.

Travelling ever southward we took a dead-end route down 540 to Shoreacres State Park. What we had hoped was to be on the scenic route that took us along the coast from Coos Bay to Bannon but seeing as how we had taken a wrong turn we decided to explore it anyways. Stomachs rumbling we grabbed a bag of nuts and explored the old estate. But first, here is a rock o’ sea lions.

The old estate was owned by a very unfortunate Mr. Louis J. Simpson. Who essentially preserved the southern qoarter of the Oregon coast by buying up all the and over the course of his life. Why? Because he was a self-made man and loved the ocean. He built a lavish mansion for his wife for Christmas and she soon later died of illness and a wildfire razed the mansion and his gardens. Bad things happen indiscriminately my friends. Walking along the edge of his old grounds I had an eerie feeling of being in a place rich with history and loss. Through so many things the shore had remained in place. Steadfast and ever flowing the waves were here before him, they are here after him and they will be here long after me. The values we humans place on things and each other seem so small compared to the rest of the world. Us transient, self-important things. The whole notion of our egos are as pointless as war. Unimportant we have only succeeded in ruining this earth. If I don’t dedicate myself and my life to fighting the good fight then I will die a leach like the rest of this wretched world. Anyways. His gardens were magnificent.

Our last stop before heading eastward for Medford was the South Slough National Estuarine Research Reserve. Estuaries, where the salty waters of the ocean mix and mingle with the fresh water of streams, have always been an interest to me. Since I first learned about it in Ecology 101 I have always been curious about learning more about the types of life that spring up in these diverse ecosystems. Following the trail down through the woods we wound closer and closer to the estuary. The vegetation transformed from coastal forest to a riparian forest rich with moisture loving plants like ferns and the skunk cabbage (one I had never heard of before).

The estuary itself was oddly low. Judging from the time I didn’t think it had to do with the normal tides. It was curious.

On the road again we began the long drive east. We needed to reach Medford, resupply for the spike and then head to the cabins. But as the miles wore on the heavy weight of sleep began to pull at my eyelids, stronger than the grumbling pains of my stomach. Heart pounding I nodded awake and gripped Rhyhorn’s wheel tightly. Pulling into the small fishing town of Bandon, OR we parked at the Old Town and began looking for coffee and food. It would seem the pattern for small towns across america to close at 1600/1700 and we were out of luck. walking up and down the street we were met with stores either closed, too expensive or too sketch. I felt like this trash fish.

We ended up finding a little oyster shack on the boardwalk that served Americanos and chowder and we were on the road again. Tired but satisfied I started the engine and settled in for the long drive back. Turning onto 42S I thought of how good a warm shower, a hot meal and a soft bed would feel.

Till next time my dear friends,

Chris