Labor Day Roaming

 

My neighbor and I left home at 7am with no particular destination in mind, merely some exploration and photo ops.  Since the day was clear -- no fog or rain or clouds -- we thought to take advantage of that and meander up the coast.  Our first stop was Cape Ferrelo, which is just north of Brookings. My Oregon Geographic Names book doesn't offer much hard evidence regarding the name.  It is presumably named for Bartolome Ferrelo, who was a pilot in the expedition of one Juan Cabrillo, a Portuguese who sailed north up the Pacific Coast from Mexico in 1542.  Apparently, there is nothing to prove that the expedition actually made it this far north, but it is still assumed to be named for him.  From the parking area, one has many options of trails to follow all over the cape, which I believe is about 300' above the beach.  Quite beautiful, especially in the early morning light.  After wandering and exploring all there was to see on the cape and the beach below, we continued our journey north.

Since we had no itinerary, I suggested we stop at my favorite spot near the Thomas Creek Bridge, where a short walk took us to this fabulous promontory.  I've yet to determine a real name for this promontory.  William Sullivan simply refers to it as the North Island Viewpoint.  I absolutely love early mornings like this on the coast, with the play of mist and the contrast of light and dark as the sun creeps up the sky.

Another from the same spot -- with more of the misty moodiness that I love.  Near here the highway crosses Bruces Bones Creek, a name which has always fascinated me.  There is a yarn about this name, which says that in the 1950's a crew was in the area completing a survey for realignment of Highway 101.  At the end of the day Bruce Schilling headed in the wrong direction, had trouble finding his way out of the deep gully, and in the end didn't make it out.  One of the other crew members commented that they would probably find his parched bones when they returned the following spring.  And the name stuck.

 

We stopped for a moment at the Cape Sebastian parking lot to check out the sweeping views in all directions.  I was clearly still fascinated by the morning light and mist.  While we're on the subject of place names, Cape Sebastian was apparently named for another long-ago exploration of this coast, this time by Sebastian Vizcaino in 1603.  Again, it's not certain if this is the cape he mentioned, because like the other explorer his latitude readings were not terribly accurate, but it was named for him in 1869 nonetheless.

In Gold Beach we drove along the north shore of the Rogue River and found this rather fascinating little city of cat condos.  Note the size of the seagull, for perspective.  Apparently, people have built these little homes for the local feral cat population.  Some have food dishes inside.  So clever!  Gold Beach, by the way, is named straightforwardly -- gold was discovered in the sands of Curry County in the early 1850s, so the name is quite appropriate.  Apparently, there were hundreds of placer miners along this beach in pioneer days.  And, although stories abound, the Rogue River was named by the original French settlers presumably because the local indians were a cantankerous bunch.  

The Rogue in this area is teeming with wildlife.  We saw a seal, cormorants and the river near the bridge was a regular traffic jam of salmon fishermen.  The season is short and they're making the most of it. I found the water dynamics here fascinating -- as you can see, the tide is fighting its way in rather forcefully in the distance, but on the shore nearer us the river flow of fresh water was working its way out.

We continued north by way of what we later discovered was the Old Coast Highway. Quite a lovely drive along the water for several miles before reconnecting with the new highway, and leading quite unexpectedly to Otter Point State Park which offers hiking trails and this lovely vista.  Our mind was on food and we were headed to Port Orford for some fish & chips at The Crazy Norwegian's, so we didn't dawdle here.  I didn't take a photo of the food, but this is the second time I've been to this place and aside from being funky and fun, that crazy Norwegian also serves what may be the best fish & chips I've found.  There's a lot to be said for that.

As we drove through Gold Beach on our return trip, I spotted this and we stopped to look.  My friend says it's one of the most photographed sights on the Oregon coast, so I don't know how I've missed it before.  She was the Mary D. Hume, built in Gold Beach in 1881 for use as a coastal freighter.  Her history is long, as she served on this coast and up into Alaska until 1978 giving her the record for length of service on this coast.  She was 97' long, served as a freighter for 10 years, then a whaler, then a tug.

Cape Sebastian

 

Since the morning broke clear and sunny, I opted for an impromptu hike on Cape Sebastian, just south of Gold Beach. Sullivan's Oregon Coast book characterizes the hike as 'moderate' to the beach, with a 700' elevation drop. He also says it's 3.8 miles round trip but somehow forgets to mention that it's 700' back up that hill and I would not characterize that portion as moderate. It's a long, steady grind. But, this little old lady managed it at a respectable moderate pace, so it is doable.

 

Views up here are expansive, but not terribly photogenic. Ocean, ocean, and more ocean, for the most part. Winds can be strong, as evidenced by the windswept trees all around.

Much of the trail goes through lush forests as it snakes its way up and down and all around the cape.  Vistas are everywhere in all directions, assisted by frequent side trails to various viewpoints.

At the base of the cape are plenty of rocks of a very treacherous nature.  I used the zoom for this one, to try for more interest. 

 

This is about as far as I went, and you can see that I had a bit further to go to reach the beach. My camera lens had a hissy fit at this point and refused to function, stuck at optimal zoom. I was not amused, and since I felt rather naked without a usable camera, I retraced my steps. As I climbed steadily back up the hill, the fog drifted steadily into the shore, following my path and drifting into the fingers of land. We both reached the top about the same time.  Interestingly, when I reached my car and could see both north and south, I found that only the north side was fogged in. The south side was as clear as ever.

All in all, a worthy trip with some lovely views.

Pistol River via Carpenterville Road

I've been curious about Carpenterville Road -- also known as the Old Oregon Coast Highway -- since I've been here, and since I needed to visit the recycling center on that road this morning, I decided to follow and see where it went. I knew it ended up at the highway once more further north, but where did it go in the meantime? It's a nice, two-lane winding road with decent grades at each end -- but in the middle, it follows a high ridge that drops away on both sides to spectacular views, when I could catch glimpses through the trees. To the west, of course, lay rolling hills and the distant ocean; to the east, a very large valley gave way to larger mountains in the distance.

Wild azalea, rhodies and foxglove blossomed abundantly along the highway and I never saw a settlement that might have been Carpenterville, although it shows on maps. According to Oregon Geographic Names, a wonderful tome of a book given to me recently by a friend, the name comes from a family that settled in the area in 1921 and ran a small sawmill, among other things. When the highway was built, the family opened a store and tourist cabins and in 1932, a post office was established and named for the family, but closed in 1944. I saw houses here and there, old and new, but don't know which might have once been the town. No photos, because the road was narrow and there were few places to stop -- and really, nothing to photograph other than trees and ferns and wildflowers -- which is not all bad.

Once I returned to the highway, about 17 miles north of Brookings, I drove on a short distance to Pistol River State Park and the four-mile-long sandy beach that connects it to Cape Sebastian to the north. I thought surely the name Pistol River must have a great story behind it. Apparently not. According to my book, a certain James Mace lost a pistol in the stream in 1853 and it's been called Pistol River since that time.

The morning clouds were just lifting, the tide coming in gently as I waded barefoot along (and sometimes in) the water's edge. This view is looking north, with Cape Sebastian in the distance. One of these days I need to explore the Cape, as there are apparently spectacular views from there.

Looking south, with lingering mists and foamy surf. This is the longest stretch of walkable beach in the south coast area, and certainly one of the most accessible. Pistol River State Park also features long stretches of sand dunes, which are fun to scramble up and down. Nothing like the Oregon Dunes further north, but fun nonetheless. This is a small one.... I really didn't go into the dunes this morning, as the surf called to me. Another time.



These huge beach rocks fascinate me -- such stories they could tell, if only they could speak! Look at all these colors....

They're also pretty darned spectacular to watch as the tide swirls in around them.