Pic of the Day: Newport, Oregon Harbor

The Harbor at Newport, Oregon

Back in the day, most of my trips to California involved driving US 101 along the Oregon coast.  One of my favorite places to stop was Newport.  I'd turn off 101 and drive the winding road down to the harbor.  In addition to the fishing boats and pleasure crafts, there were restaurants, souvenir shops, an underwater aquarium, and a seemingly endless array of floating platforms covered with seals.  

My mother died at Thanksgiving, 2006, ending my need to travel to California.  I stuck around most of 2007, clearing up her affairs, and since then, I've rarely visited the coast.  In fact, it's been close to twenty years since I last visited Newport.  I took this photograph on April 30, 2008, with a Nikon D80 and a Sigma 18–50 mm zoom lens set to 24 mm. The exposure was ISO 200, f/11, at 1/125 second. Years later, the photograph was featured in Redbubble’s All Oregon USA group. It's one of my favorite views of the Yaquina Bay area.  

If you like this image as much as I do, I've made it available in my Etsy shop, Light Into Art, and you can find it here:  https://lightintoart.etsy.com/listing/1847305882/yaquina-bay-bridge-seascape-newport or click on the picture or the caption below to go directly to my Etsy listing.

The photo is available as a paper print (in smaller sizes) or as a stretched canvas, brushed metal or acrylic print in sizes up to 40x90 inch triptychs.  Let me know what you think.

Sunbathing on the beach, December 30th

China Beach, Curry County Oregon
December 30th, 2006

Writing an op-ed piece for today’s New York Times, Paul Theroux, one of my favorite American authors talks about how much more crowded America is today than when he was growing up. He notes:

In my lifetime the population has doubled. I’m glad I grew up when the number of Americans was so much smaller. How does one explain to anyone under 50, or to the grateful unfazed immigrant from an overpopulated nation, that this was once a country of enormous silence and ordinariness — empty spaces not just in the Midwest and the rural South but in the outer suburbs of New England, like the one I grew up in, citified on one margin and thinning to woods on the other. That roomier and simpler America shaped me by giving me and others of my generation a love for space and a taste for solitude.

In my lifetime, my beloved Bitterroot Valley in western Montana’s Ravalli County has gone from a largely rural place where there were distinct towns separated by miles of farm land to a 95 mile-long stretch of US Highway 93 where, except for the last 7 miles as you approach the Idaho state line at 7,000’ Lost Trail Pass, you are never out of sight of at least one house. Get off 93, and you’ll find the woods full of homes. A friend who flies his own plane over the valley tells me that I’d be amazed at the number of homes hidden in the back country.

Over the past thirty years, I’ve seen the same type of growth happening in Del Norte and Curry Counties—the north western corner of California and southwestern corner of Oregon. Though not as remarkable as the growth in Montana, what has happened in this remote part of the Pacific coast is truly astonishing. As in Montana, there is no natural reason for the population growth. Neither area has any extensive industry or large business to employ the people moving in. And while according to the highway signs, building Pelican Bay State Prison in the late 1980s tripled the population of Crescent City, Del Norte County’s seat and main population center, the county’s population grew only 28.78% between 1980 and 1990—the largest growth spurt in the past forty years. In fact, the 2000 census showed the county at 27,507, not even 10,000 more than the 1960 census count of 17,771. Curry County Oregon grew from 13,983 in 1960 to 21, 137 in 2000. Both counties had remarkable population decreases in the decade between 1960 and 1970. Ravalli County, Montana, on the other hand, has grown from 12,341 in 1960 to 36,070 in 2000.

I'm led to all of this number crunching by driving home from a deserted Oregon beach. Unlike US 93, US 101 remains a rural highway along this stretch of coast. Towns remain discrete—separated by miles of seemingly empty land. That isolation is, however, deceptive. Get off 101 and again the woods are full of homes. Pretty impressive homes at that, some with electric gates to keep the barbarians at bay. But the beaches are another matter.

Indian Sands, Curry County Oregon
December 29th, 2006

Isolated, definitely not handicapped accessible, beaches like China Beach or the area called Indian Sands can be your own private paradise. Friday found Gypsy and me the only visitors to Indian Sands, and Saturday Carl, Steven, Gypsy and I saw only one other human on China Beach—and he was so far away that it was impossible to make out whether it was a man or woman. In fairness, I did meet two guys from Bakersfield CA in the Indian Sands parking lot and we saw two other guys on the Coastal Trail as we were returning from China Beach.

With no industry as a lure, people move to places like the Bitterroot, or this coastal area, because of the quality of life possible. I, for one, love being able to walk the Oregon Coastal Trail for miles without seeing another soul. I love being able to strip down and sunbathe on a deserted beach (especially on December 30^th). Even in Crescent City it’s possible to walk along Pebble Beach or find a spot in Front Street Park to be by yourself, or with a close friend. And so, since it’s Sunday and sunny, I think I’ll go for a stroll.

Happy New Year!

Gypsy and me, China Beach, Curry County, Oregon
December 30th, 2006

Whale Watching

Looking North
Cape Ferrelo Viewpoint
Curry County, Oregon




The experts say that now is a good time to catch sight of the whales as they migrate south. There are some 11,000 grey whales on the move, and chances are, if you're very, very lucky, you'll see a distant pouf of spray two fingers down from the horizon--or about 3 to 5 miles out to sea. Now as the Breton sailor's prayer goes, "The sea is so vast and my boat is so small." That vastness notwithstanding, a whale watchers group has had guides stationed all along the Oregon Coast this week, with 3 relatively close to me: Crescent City, California (and yes, I know that technically speaking, Crescent City is NOT on the Oregon Coast); Harris Beach State Park at the north end of Brookings, Oregon; and Cape Ferrelo a few miles on up the coast from Brookings.

Thursday morning, December 28th, dawned bright and clear. Since sunlight was streaming in my study window, I called my friend Carl to suggest that we take advantage of the sun, the whales, and the guides. As Carl had some matters that needed immediate attention, we did not get on the road until late morning, arriving at Harris Beach just after noon. The guide was very helpful, telling us that a couple of whales had been spotted very close in earlier in the morning. She also told us about the two fingers below the horizon clue for where we should be watching. While Carl chatted with the guide and I grabbed surreptitious glances at the cute guy with the beard and camera, no more whales chose to present themselves.

I felt somewhat guilty at the thought of having seafood while out watching for whales, but the lure of a bento box at Café Kitanishi was just too strong to ignore, so Carl and I headed back into Brookings to the best Japanese restaurant I've found anywhere--including in Japan. Fortunately for my guilty conscience, there was only one shrimp and two pieces of sushi in each of our orders. They were delicious, as was the beef teriyaki in my box. While we were eating, an older Asian-looking woman in an ankle length plaid skirt talked to the diners at a nearby table. "You know what 'Bento' means, don't you?" "Well, I used to....." "Lunch box! Bento means 'Lunch box'!" Meanwhile, I was convinced that our dark-haired waiter and his red headed wife really belonged in an Irish pub serving fish and chips.

Bento Box
Café Kitanishi
Brookings, Oregon

With our stomachs satisfied, we pointed the Volvo north and headed for Cape Ferrelo. At the overlook, we set up lawn chairs and tripods, got out the binoculars and Gypsy, and settled in for some serious whale watching. Soon a woman approached saying that we obviously knew what we were doing. She asked if we could confirm that she was seeing whale spouts and not just whitecaps. Amazing what having a little equipment along will do to improve your perceived level of expertise. Alas, we decided that as the white spots kept reappearing in exactly the same spot, they were most likely whitecaps caused by unseen rocks. We did have fun trying to visually separate sea lions from kelp, but gave up on sitting still and scanning the ocean through binoculars. Taking a short hike out to one of the many points at Cape Ferrelo, we decided that it was a fine day to be out on the Coast, even if the whales weren't being co-operative.

North of Cape Ferrelo, we stopped at the Arch Rock overlook where our cameras captured several more scenes, then turned back south stopping at Natural Bridges, Indian Sands, and finally Howonquet Cemetery. The main problem with driving the Oregon Coast is that there are so many wonderful places to stop and take in the sights, that you can't help but miss some spectacular views. The good news is that it doesn't matter. Wherever you stop, you'll see breathtaking vistas and crashing waves. Of course, a little sunlight and blue sky doesn't hurt.

Sunset over the Pacific near Howonquet Cemetery
Smith River Rancheria, California