Jill and I got a crazy notion on Sunday and decided that Monday would be a good day for a trip to the beach. So, Monday morning, we got up and had breakfast, packed up the dog and piled into the old Ford. We were on the road by 8:30 AM, which was, perhaps, an error in judgment. The trouble with being retired is that you forget that those who still need to work have a tendency all to get on the road at once.
Well, the minor annoyance of getting through downtown Portland during the end of "rush hour" (goodness knows why it is called rush hour, when it lasts far longer than an hour and no one is able to rush anywhere) gave way to the joy of being on the road. The weather was not glorious, but neither was it awful. There was no rain, and the clouds were thin enough that we had occasional periods when sunglasses were definitely in order.
When we arrived at Cannon Beach, the weather was actually better than it had been on the way. The first stop we made in CB was at the coffee vendor's. We both had been yawning during our drive. Next, we took a walk on the beach, and Pogo got the run of the month! We spotted a huge flock of birds huddled together along the banks of the Ecola river. It turns out that the flock contained both seagulls and pelicans. I can't recall seeing pelicans this far north before, but there were dozens of them.
The wind, which was not brisk, nevertheless finally chilled us to the point that we decided to get back up among the buildings of Main Street. We visited most of the tourist trap boutiques and finally took Pogo back to the car. Our breakfast had worn off by now, so we made our way to Bill's Restaurant and Brew Pub. Jill had an oyster burger, and I dug into some fish and chips.
Our hunger sated, we decided to make a jaunt to Arch Cape, south on U.S. 101 about five miles from Cannon Beach. Having satisfied our curiosity, we headed north again for home. The ocean was so beautiful, that I decided to pull over at a viewpoint and get some pictures. That's when we discovered that we had left the camera at Bill's.
We made pretty good time on our way back to the Pub, hoping to retrieve the camera, which is not terribly valuable, but it contains our memory chips with hundreds of photos on them, including the ones we took on this jaunt. (Make a note: time to back up the photos!) The barman knew exactly why we had returned, and with a wry smile but nary a word, he went to the "lost and found" drawer and handed us our little friend.
The drive home was beautiful, and since it was Monday, there was very little traffic. We decided to stop at Camp 18 Restaurant and gift shop, a place we have passed many times but never visited. It was not a disappointment. We didn't eat, of course, but the museum of "manly" machinery and the gift shop were charming.
We arrived home before dark thinking that the day had been just about perfect. Click on Sasquatch above for a slide show.
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