At last, beautiful Oregon

After being on the road for 20 days, we have finally reached our furthest point west, the Oregon coast. This destination was borne from fond memories, curiosities, and family - the source of the memories and curiosities. 

I have visited the Oregon coast twice in my life, prior to this visit. The first time, I was just six months old when my mother brought my brother, aged 3, and I cross-country by train to visit her mom - our grandmother. My memories off that trip are just of faded black and white photographs and a snippet of Super-8 movie film showing my grandmother holding me on a hill with the ocean crashing against the rocky shore in the background. 

My second trip to this coast was a gift from my grandmother when I turned 16. It turned out to be an amazing gift that included my first time on an airplane, and a DC-10, no less!  I flew "stand-by" which is not the best method of flying such a distance at such an age. Lucky for me, I traversed the US at a time when life was safer, because when I look back, I can't believe how young and naïve I was to have done it alone. I had a connecting flight and needed to change planes in Chicago's O'Hare Airport. I remember running from one end of the "wagon-wheel" shaped airport to the other, in search of my departure gate, wondering how my luggage was going to make it if I could barely do so. 

Interior of the DC-10 as I remember it.

At the end of a long day of travel, my plane finally landed in Portland and I remember meeting my grandmother - for only the second time in my whole life.  The ride to her home seemed endless, and the view of Highway 101, as seen from the back seat of her Cadillac, burned into the deepest recesses of my mind.

The Summer of '72 was a big movie and I could have written the screenplay for my own Summer of '72 that has played over and over in my head for all these years. My memories are mostly of camping in a pop-up camper with my Uncle Tom and his family. I remember tubing on the river, fly fishing along the Rogue River and catching a fish, nights spent around a fire, Redwood trees, pit toilets, cold showers and washing my clothes on a rock in the river. 

My first time camping - with cousins, Tommy and Vanessa

Me aged 16 and Vanessa, about 8?

Aunt Joyce with Vanessa and little Tommy

Hwy. 101 - Coastal Oregon - taken back in 1972 at a pull-off. 

Believe this is the Rogue River we went tubing on.

My Uncle Tom and family

Me, Vanessa and that Caddy.

I also have fond memories of my grandmother fixing me fruit cobbler for breakfast every morning made from the berries I picked out of her back yard. I remember driving her Cadillac and going on a date with the "bag boy" from the local supermarket, McKay's??? We were supposed to go to a drive-in movie, but it got "fogged out." I had never heard of something like that before, and remember laughing about the term.

Example of a Shrimp Boat

At the crack of dawn one day, I sailed out into the Pacific, beyond the sight of land, in a shrimp boat, and worked alongside the other men on deck when the nets were hauled up into the boat. Certain fish needed to be thrown back overboard, because a shrimp boat could only bring back shrimp. I was taught how to grab a large fish by its tail, with two hands, and then swing it up and over the side of the boat. The funniest thing was looking down at all the shrimp and not recognizing them. I had never seen a shrimp with its head before.

It was definitely a different type of life, it was amazing and made you believe in God – especially upon a huge ocean with no land in sight on board a little shrimp boat.

Mostly, I remember how I hated for that summer to end. In retrospect, it was my last summer before becoming a diabetic, so perhaps that helps to make it the favorite summer of my life, but I still think it's that camping thing.

Now, at 61, I find myself back where my love for camping was first ignited. I'm definitely not camping the way I did way back in 1972, but do love the way I feel when on the road to a new destination. The research, the discovery, the oddities and the familiar (Walmart) are all exciting discoveries just down the road a piece and each location is a new adventure.

So, we have fast-forwarded to 2016 and to the journey my husband and I have been on these last few weeks.  As you enter Oregon from Idaho, tan colored mountain ranges slowly turn greener along curving roads that were at one time the original Oregon Trail. It is mind boggling to imagine the pioneers traversing this land. At times, it felt like we were on another planet. I can't imagine what went through the minds of those who braved the journey westward - trying to imagine what could lie beyond the next huge mountain.  You can’t help but fall in love with this state. It is full of lush, green, rolling mountains, forests and rivers filled with fish! There is some activity to fill your days any time of the year.

 Our first night in Oregon was spent at Grande Hot Springs Resort, in La Grande. It was located at the bottom of a large hill and off a dirt road. A ground fire was burning somewhere off in the distance – a big threat during the hot, dry months of July and August.

The second night found us at Portland/Fairview RV Park in Fairview. This was a lovely little park, located deep within the Columbia River Gorge area. I wished we had booked a few extra days in this location, because there was so much to see and do that one night was only a tease.

 

The third night, we checked into Lincoln City KOA, located in Lincoln City. We were supposed to be here for three days, but we couldn’t fit into the site they had booked us in and they only had a one-night vacancy. All three of us were becoming desperate for a respite from the long travel days.

Fortunately, we were able to check into our next stop a couple of days earlier, so we are currently at Oceanside RV Resort in Charleston, OR for the next week. Time to relax and recoup.

The trip continues. The story will as well…

Deep thought for the day:       The Way We Were, Barbara Streisand, 1974

Mem’ries
Light the corners of my mind
Misty water-colored memories
Of the way we were
Scattered pictures,
Of the smiles we left behind
Smiles we gave to one another
For the way we were
Can it be that it was all so simple then?
Or has time re-written every line?
If we had the chance to do it all again
Tell me, would we? Could we?
Mem'ries, may be beautiful and yet
What's too painful to remember
We simply choose to forget
So it's the laughter
We will remember
Whenever we remember...
The way we were...
The way we were...