Saturday
October 16
It was about 6:30am and I was at the Panini, a coffee shop and bakery just a block from the Nye Beach Inn, and was well into a large cuppa joe and a fresh scone while perusing the Oregonian newspaper. There were only about four or five small tables, and locals kept coming in and grabbing a cup of caffiene, chatting a bit with the gal at the counter, and then were off to their day's activity properly drugged and raring to go. I overheard "April's" mentioned and from the conversation realized that the gal on the cappachino machine had been serving meals the night before into the wee hours of the evening at the restaurant where we had dined. She seemed to be doing well, but I surmised that by mid morning she would probably be burning up caffiene at a fairly high rate.
Nancy soon turned up with her journal and ordered her normal double cappachino. We decided that we would do a bit of touring and visit the old waterfront area which was the other interesting part of town, which, in fact probably got most of the summer tourist traffic. Believe it or not, there was an elaborate Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum in the waterfront area which had to be a big draw with the summer crowd. Since it was the off season, and fairly early in the morning, it wasn't open. The building it was in was painted in an off-pink color which seemed garish, and out of place in the middle of an old harbor front filled with fishing boats, sea lions, and seafood restaurants. Some of the old buildings had large murals of dolphins or killer whales painted in large scale on their facades. And, of course, the original Moe's Seafood restaurant was right in the middle of it all. (There is a chain of them along the coast).
There wasn't much activity on the street since it was still before 10 am, but we walked out on a pier to confer with the sea lions below who were very vocal vieing for a good position to catch anything we might toss over the edge. They must have been in a hangover from all the stuff the summer crowd had thrown their way. The poor things would probably have to swim out somewhere into the bay to actually catch some fish on their own to get through the winter months.
There were a couple old fishermen on the pier, and as usual, I walked over to check out what was going on. One of them had an empty bucket, and the other had 3 dungeness crabs in the bottom of his. It was the crab season and I knew that crabbers were out in boats in the bays, but I was surprised to see them being netted right "downtown".
After walking both sides of the street, wondering what was in Ripley's, and checking out the catch at the fish market, we waved goodby to the sea lions, and headed north again on 101.
Today was going to be our longest drive leg up the coast, estimated to be about 5 hours. Just north of Newport was the Heteca Lighthouse, which was a National Historic site managed by the National Park Service. There was beautiful visitor's center and a $5 admission fee. We had to stop and check it out since I was a lighthouse nut. We stopped at the visitor's center and looked at the exhibits, and then headed out to the lighthouse which was located about a 1/4 mile out on a point. It was a cloudy windy day, threatening rain. At the lighthouse there was a tour guide standing outside by a sign indicating that the next tour was in about 10 minutes. Oh boy!! I love guided tours! We walked around the lighthouse and out to an observation deck overlooking the whitecapped ocean below. and then wandered back for the tour. There were about 10-12 other hardy tourists we joined "in line". As we were standing there, I mentioned to the tour guide that it must be a typical "balmy" day along the Oregon coast. He said the only thing missing was a bit of rain, but said that it should start spitting shortly.
He finally led us into the first floor of the lighthouse and started the tour with an introductory "lecture". He said that it was built in 1835, and the original lamp was lit by burning pig fat, which was heated on a stove in a room on the bottom floor and carried in buckets by the keepers and their families up the circular staircase of the 94 ft tall lighthouse 24 hours a day to keep the light always burning. In the late 1800's fuel oil was a big step forward, and then in the 1930's electricity really simplified the maintenance of the light. The lens of the light was built in France and is the original lens. As with most old lighthouses, the guide told a story of a drunken keeper who fell and died and still is seen within the stairwell from time to time! Nancy got a bit claustraphobic going up the stairs and suffered a bit of vertigo going down. I made a donation of $1 and got her a button indicating that she had, however, reached the summit sucessfully. We all got to climb the small steps to the light and stick our head up to see it actually click on and off.
As we exited we walked into some good old Oregon rain, and had to make a run for the parking lot!
We headed north on 101, which stayed two lane and became more rural and as it went inland off the coast. We started seeing more agriculture, especially dairy cows along with the smell that went with them, which was an indication that we were nearing Tillamook, a small city with a large presence in the cheese industry. Tillamook cheese is a major brand marketed nationally, and the cheese "factory" is a major tourist attraction drawing a zillion tourists annually. Even on this off season rainy day the big parking lot was full of cars, and there were hundreds of people touring the cheese making plant, buying cheeses in the huge store, and standing in line for some of the ice cream concoctions at the big ice cream counter. We were going to get an ice cream, but after looking at the length of the line, just shook out heads and went back to the parking lot. It was worth a visit--you know how I like tourist traps. I couldn't imagine what it must have been like in the middle of July! One thing I did learn, was that the Tillamook "factory" is a farmer's cooperative, which presumes that it is owned by the member dairy farmers who supply the endless stream of raw milk which is needed to produce the tons of ice cream and cheddar cheese flowing out the finished product end of the "assembly line".
They had very nice rest rooms!!
We were back on the road, and since it was getting late in the day, Nancy was checking her guidebook for some lodging options in Astoria. She settled on the Grandview B&B, which looked favorably priced and was within walking distance of the downtown area. We called on the cell phone and there was a room at the Inn which we reserved. With that done we could take our time, since I had one more tourist stop to make before we reached the Columbia River. Fort Clatsop was a National Park and had a replica of the winter quarters of the Lewis and Clarke expedition which once existed on the site. We couldn't miss that!! We pulled into the fort just after 4 pm. It was almost getting "dusky". As with most of the good National Park sites, our tax dollars seemed well spent on a very nice visitor's center, where Nancy bought a couple of post cards for Matt, and we looked at the exhibits of the Lewis and Clarke expedition tracing their long trek through the newly acquired "unknown lands to the west". It was still doing an Oregon drizzle so we walked under the umbrella for the 200 yards to the old log "fort" and through the rooms in the "barracks". It seemed to me to be a very small place for an expedition
to hole up for a winter. There was a docent, dressed for the part, giving a lecture on writing materials from that era to a small group in one of the rooms. We stopped for a few minutes in the flickering light and imagined Lewis writing in his daily log by candlelight. I guess it must have been cozy enough! Pacific Northwest winters are not so severe. And the Indians were friendly. What great tourists they were! An adventure to match any other!
As we left the park we saw a fairly large herd of Elk sharing a pasture with some dairy cows. There were two or three big bulls with large racks. I wondered if they ever got confused and became amorous with any of the Guernseys.
We got into Astoria about 5 pm, and drove around a bit looking for the Grandview. It was a big old Victorian up the hill overlooking the town and the Columbia River. We parked in front and went to check in. There was an elderly lady at a desk by the front door talking on the phone, presumably taking reservations. She looked the part of a victorian innkeeper, and soon had us on the way up the stairs with our bags. Our room was pretty frilly for a guy, but it was Ok and the bed was comfortable, so we were set! Everyone else was checking in at about the same time and it looked like a full house. We were glad we had called ahead and reserved a room!
Astoria is probably the oldest settlement in the Pacific Northwest, and perhaps west of the Mississippi. As I remember it was originally a fur trading post and then developed into a large port for lumber and other goods going up and down the river and off to other ports to all points of the compass. It was apparent by the size of some of the homes, that business had been very good at one time, and money had flowed through the port. We walked downtown to check out the restaurants, and see the sights. There were three big ocean going tankers anchored just offshore in the river, and I found later that they were hanging out until a backup of ships could be unloaded in Seattle to open up room for them to dock and deliver their cargo in that port facility. So now Astoria was just a holding tank!
Alot of the old Victorian homes had been renovated or were in the process of renovation, which was a good sign. It seems that tourism was a good part of the economy. Just like us, Hwy 101 fed people into Astoria as a starting point to drive through the scenic area of the Columbia Gorge, or to cross the old bridge to Washington State and on up the coast.
We had dinner in a pretty good touristy restaurant right on the riverbank. I wanted to get a table facing the river, but even at 6 pm, the restaurant was filled with a busload of elderly tourists on a river tour. I was a bit "ornery" about that, so ordered the biggest steak on the menu, which along with some wine, seemed to settle me down a bit. As the bus riders were leaving I asked where they were from, and found them all to be Wisconsinites--and since I knew that Wisconsin had won their football game that day, gave them a hearty "Go Badgers", which seemed to be received favorably!! Hey, when you are old, you need all the encouragement you can get!
After dinner, and since it was early, we stopped at a nice bar and grill, and ordered an after dinner drink. The baseball playoffs were on so we rooted for Boston for awhile and then headed back to the B&B in a slight Oregon drizzle. Our next day would be down the Gorge and would be a day filled with waterfalls.
I drifted off to sleep in our frilly bed to the sound of rain on the Victorian windows.
October 16
It was about 6:30am and I was at the Panini, a coffee shop and bakery just a block from the Nye Beach Inn, and was well into a large cuppa joe and a fresh scone while perusing the Oregonian newspaper. There were only about four or five small tables, and locals kept coming in and grabbing a cup of caffiene, chatting a bit with the gal at the counter, and then were off to their day's activity properly drugged and raring to go. I overheard "April's" mentioned and from the conversation realized that the gal on the cappachino machine had been serving meals the night before into the wee hours of the evening at the restaurant where we had dined. She seemed to be doing well, but I surmised that by mid morning she would probably be burning up caffiene at a fairly high rate.
Nancy soon turned up with her journal and ordered her normal double cappachino. We decided that we would do a bit of touring and visit the old waterfront area which was the other interesting part of town, which, in fact probably got most of the summer tourist traffic. Believe it or not, there was an elaborate Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum in the waterfront area which had to be a big draw with the summer crowd. Since it was the off season, and fairly early in the morning, it wasn't open. The building it was in was painted in an off-pink color which seemed garish, and out of place in the middle of an old harbor front filled with fishing boats, sea lions, and seafood restaurants. Some of the old buildings had large murals of dolphins or killer whales painted in large scale on their facades. And, of course, the original Moe's Seafood restaurant was right in the middle of it all. (There is a chain of them along the coast).
There wasn't much activity on the street since it was still before 10 am, but we walked out on a pier to confer with the sea lions below who were very vocal vieing for a good position to catch anything we might toss over the edge. They must have been in a hangover from all the stuff the summer crowd had thrown their way. The poor things would probably have to swim out somewhere into the bay to actually catch some fish on their own to get through the winter months.
There were a couple old fishermen on the pier, and as usual, I walked over to check out what was going on. One of them had an empty bucket, and the other had 3 dungeness crabs in the bottom of his. It was the crab season and I knew that crabbers were out in boats in the bays, but I was surprised to see them being netted right "downtown".
After walking both sides of the street, wondering what was in Ripley's, and checking out the catch at the fish market, we waved goodby to the sea lions, and headed north again on 101.
Today was going to be our longest drive leg up the coast, estimated to be about 5 hours. Just north of Newport was the Heteca Lighthouse, which was a National Historic site managed by the National Park Service. There was beautiful visitor's center and a $5 admission fee. We had to stop and check it out since I was a lighthouse nut. We stopped at the visitor's center and looked at the exhibits, and then headed out to the lighthouse which was located about a 1/4 mile out on a point. It was a cloudy windy day, threatening rain. At the lighthouse there was a tour guide standing outside by a sign indicating that the next tour was in about 10 minutes. Oh boy!! I love guided tours! We walked around the lighthouse and out to an observation deck overlooking the whitecapped ocean below. and then wandered back for the tour. There were about 10-12 other hardy tourists we joined "in line". As we were standing there, I mentioned to the tour guide that it must be a typical "balmy" day along the Oregon coast. He said the only thing missing was a bit of rain, but said that it should start spitting shortly.
He finally led us into the first floor of the lighthouse and started the tour with an introductory "lecture". He said that it was built in 1835, and the original lamp was lit by burning pig fat, which was heated on a stove in a room on the bottom floor and carried in buckets by the keepers and their families up the circular staircase of the 94 ft tall lighthouse 24 hours a day to keep the light always burning. In the late 1800's fuel oil was a big step forward, and then in the 1930's electricity really simplified the maintenance of the light. The lens of the light was built in France and is the original lens. As with most old lighthouses, the guide told a story of a drunken keeper who fell and died and still is seen within the stairwell from time to time! Nancy got a bit claustraphobic going up the stairs and suffered a bit of vertigo going down. I made a donation of $1 and got her a button indicating that she had, however, reached the summit sucessfully. We all got to climb the small steps to the light and stick our head up to see it actually click on and off.
As we exited we walked into some good old Oregon rain, and had to make a run for the parking lot!
We headed north on 101, which stayed two lane and became more rural and as it went inland off the coast. We started seeing more agriculture, especially dairy cows along with the smell that went with them, which was an indication that we were nearing Tillamook, a small city with a large presence in the cheese industry. Tillamook cheese is a major brand marketed nationally, and the cheese "factory" is a major tourist attraction drawing a zillion tourists annually. Even on this off season rainy day the big parking lot was full of cars, and there were hundreds of people touring the cheese making plant, buying cheeses in the huge store, and standing in line for some of the ice cream concoctions at the big ice cream counter. We were going to get an ice cream, but after looking at the length of the line, just shook out heads and went back to the parking lot. It was worth a visit--you know how I like tourist traps. I couldn't imagine what it must have been like in the middle of July! One thing I did learn, was that the Tillamook "factory" is a farmer's cooperative, which presumes that it is owned by the member dairy farmers who supply the endless stream of raw milk which is needed to produce the tons of ice cream and cheddar cheese flowing out the finished product end of the "assembly line".
They had very nice rest rooms!!
We were back on the road, and since it was getting late in the day, Nancy was checking her guidebook for some lodging options in Astoria. She settled on the Grandview B&B, which looked favorably priced and was within walking distance of the downtown area. We called on the cell phone and there was a room at the Inn which we reserved. With that done we could take our time, since I had one more tourist stop to make before we reached the Columbia River. Fort Clatsop was a National Park and had a replica of the winter quarters of the Lewis and Clarke expedition which once existed on the site. We couldn't miss that!! We pulled into the fort just after 4 pm. It was almost getting "dusky". As with most of the good National Park sites, our tax dollars seemed well spent on a very nice visitor's center, where Nancy bought a couple of post cards for Matt, and we looked at the exhibits of the Lewis and Clarke expedition tracing their long trek through the newly acquired "unknown lands to the west". It was still doing an Oregon drizzle so we walked under the umbrella for the 200 yards to the old log "fort" and through the rooms in the "barracks". It seemed to me to be a very small place for an expedition
to hole up for a winter. There was a docent, dressed for the part, giving a lecture on writing materials from that era to a small group in one of the rooms. We stopped for a few minutes in the flickering light and imagined Lewis writing in his daily log by candlelight. I guess it must have been cozy enough! Pacific Northwest winters are not so severe. And the Indians were friendly. What great tourists they were! An adventure to match any other!
As we left the park we saw a fairly large herd of Elk sharing a pasture with some dairy cows. There were two or three big bulls with large racks. I wondered if they ever got confused and became amorous with any of the Guernseys.
We got into Astoria about 5 pm, and drove around a bit looking for the Grandview. It was a big old Victorian up the hill overlooking the town and the Columbia River. We parked in front and went to check in. There was an elderly lady at a desk by the front door talking on the phone, presumably taking reservations. She looked the part of a victorian innkeeper, and soon had us on the way up the stairs with our bags. Our room was pretty frilly for a guy, but it was Ok and the bed was comfortable, so we were set! Everyone else was checking in at about the same time and it looked like a full house. We were glad we had called ahead and reserved a room!
Astoria is probably the oldest settlement in the Pacific Northwest, and perhaps west of the Mississippi. As I remember it was originally a fur trading post and then developed into a large port for lumber and other goods going up and down the river and off to other ports to all points of the compass. It was apparent by the size of some of the homes, that business had been very good at one time, and money had flowed through the port. We walked downtown to check out the restaurants, and see the sights. There were three big ocean going tankers anchored just offshore in the river, and I found later that they were hanging out until a backup of ships could be unloaded in Seattle to open up room for them to dock and deliver their cargo in that port facility. So now Astoria was just a holding tank!
Alot of the old Victorian homes had been renovated or were in the process of renovation, which was a good sign. It seems that tourism was a good part of the economy. Just like us, Hwy 101 fed people into Astoria as a starting point to drive through the scenic area of the Columbia Gorge, or to cross the old bridge to Washington State and on up the coast.
We had dinner in a pretty good touristy restaurant right on the riverbank. I wanted to get a table facing the river, but even at 6 pm, the restaurant was filled with a busload of elderly tourists on a river tour. I was a bit "ornery" about that, so ordered the biggest steak on the menu, which along with some wine, seemed to settle me down a bit. As the bus riders were leaving I asked where they were from, and found them all to be Wisconsinites--and since I knew that Wisconsin had won their football game that day, gave them a hearty "Go Badgers", which seemed to be received favorably!! Hey, when you are old, you need all the encouragement you can get!
After dinner, and since it was early, we stopped at a nice bar and grill, and ordered an after dinner drink. The baseball playoffs were on so we rooted for Boston for awhile and then headed back to the B&B in a slight Oregon drizzle. Our next day would be down the Gorge and would be a day filled with waterfalls.
I drifted off to sleep in our frilly bed to the sound of rain on the Victorian windows.
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