Oregon Surfari 2018
by Mike Thompson, 10/21/2018
Last surfin' safari of 2018 yesterday, to Seaside and Cannon Beach, Oregon. I've been going on these solo, one-day Oregon surf trips for three decades now, starting back in the late 1980's, and the awesome beauty keeps calling me back. I've driven these many miles somewhere between fifty and a hundred times but the long trip is always worth it.
With a big high pressure sitting over the Pacific Northwest, the NOAA marine weather forecast is calling for 4-foot surf and a 10-15 knot northerly breeze. Having compared NOAA's forecasts with boots-on-the-ground reality over the years, I know that they really mean, "3-foot to 5-foot surf, calm in the morning, with north winds starting late morning or early afternoon", which is another way of saying, "Arrive early and you might score some nice, medium-size waves, otherwise you're going to be paddling around out there trying to catch cold, blown-out mush".
The now-traditional Oregon surfari is done in one of two ways:
- Leave home after dinner, drive until after midnight, quietly pull over in some residential area in Seaside (lately I favor a spot behind some row houses on Avenue T), tip back the seat and sleep for four or five hours, kick off the sleeping bag and drive to the Shell station for a cup of coffee, and then drive to the water to check out the surf.
- Get to bed early, get up between 1:00 AM and 2:00 AM, and do the entire trip within the same day.
Since it's late in the year (October 20th) and won't be light enough to surf until about 7:30 AM, and since I've been falling asleep early and waking up for no reason about 1:30 AM lately, I'm choosing Plan B this time.
Started the drive at 2:30 AM. Rolled the usual I-5 miles through Seattle, Tacoma, and Olympia, and stopped at the Chevron station at Vader (the pre-Darth one) for gas. Skirted Longview by taking the Industrial Exit, over the narrow bridge across the Columbia, and while climbing up the hill on the Oregon side enjoyed the view back across the river of the lights of Longview and the steam rising from the pulp and lumber mills.
West along the Columbia through Clatskanie and past road signs proving the area's Scandinavian heritage (Swedetown, Svensen). Fog hanging in the low spots promising a glassy-calm morning until the north wind kicks in. Through the really twisty stretch of road just before you get to Astoria, and then a stop for coffee and a bagel at the Safeway at the east end of town, near where the plywood mill was. I used to enjoy driving past that mill and smelling the veneer cooking in the drying ovens, as it reminded me of working swing shift at the Willamette Industries plywood mill during my last year at the University of Oregon. Now the only hint that's left of the Astoria mill is the tavern across the street, where the mill workers would go for a beer after their shift ended. It's still dark enough to see the stars as I drive west out of Astoria.
This drive used to be a journey of exploration back in the days when I was just discovering spots like Short Sands (the most consistently-surfable spot on the northern Oregon coast, as well as one of the most beautiful) and Seaside Cove/Point. Now the drive is a rolling meditation of trips past, the changes I've seen through the years, and the yearning for beautiful waves that may lie ahead.
I arrive at Seaside Cove just as the eastern sky is starting to lighten. The water is still pretty low, there having been a 1-foot low tide at 4:00 AM, with a 7-foot high tide to come at 10:30 AM. Medium-size surf works best here at Seaside Cove on a medium tide, and the waves aren't lining up very well at the moment. I'll keep Seaside Cove in mind as a possible spot to surf in the early afternoon, in the happy event that the wind doesn't come up until late in the day.
Next drive down to Cannon Beach and take a quick look at Bird Rocks. Blessings to whatever group (Surfrider Foundation? Local environmentalists?) insisted that a trailhead and a couple parking spots be reserved for public access to Chapman Beach when they built the new housing development here. The housing development that's just to the south completely locked up the beach down there, which is a mortal sin as far as I'm concerned. When things are working there's a nice right with a peak that forms maybe 30 yards south of the southernmost of the four Bird Rocks, but it's not breaking at the moment, and the beach break doesn't look good either.
Back in the car, up the road to the entrance to Ecola State Park, pay the entry fee at the toll booth, park in the Ecola Point parking lot, and walk down the footpath to the overlook. With the morning sky still pink, Crescent Beach looks like a pretty good bet. It's now 7:45 AM with high tide less than three hours away, so it's time to commit and get in the water. Crescent Beach it is! I drive back out of Ecola Park, park the car next to our empty lot on Spruce Street, grab the surfboard and wetsuit, walk back up the road, and then follow the trail through the woods and down to Crescent Beach. I change out of my clothes and into the wetsuit on the beach, and at 8:45 AM I'm paddling out.
Nice session! The waves are on the high end of 4 feet - I'd say the sets are a solid 5'. Not a breath of wind and the water is wonderfully smooth. I often open with a face plant, but the first ride today is a good one. Two sea lions cruise by, looking me over as they pass. Wild animals are curious but wary of humans, as well they should be. Not many shorebirds around today, and it looks like the brown pelicans have left and gone south for the winter. Nothing nicer than watching a flock of pelicans cruising just a few feet above the water, riding the updraft at the leading edge of a swell that's rolling toward shore. When you get to see them glide by, so close you can almost touch them, you understand why it's worth paddling out whether you catch any waves or not.
Change out of the wetsuit, hike back to the car, and warm up with a cuppa at the coffee shop/art gallery at the south end of Cannon Beach. Stop at Cleanline Surf Shop to pick up a new stainless steel machine screw/plate for the fin on the surfboard. Down Highway 101 to the overlook at Jockey Cap Rock. It's now 12:30 PM and there are whitecaps just off shore, so the wind has arrived more or less on schedule. Not only is it choppy out there, but the waves aren't lining up very well, so it looks like there will be no second surf session for me today.
Drive back north to Seaside for another look at the Cove before giving up for the day. There’s a new, and somewhat strange, "Warning - Shark Sighted" sign in the parking area. A local guy pulling on his wetsuit jokingly claims the sign is to scare off tourists. It certainly isn’t going to scare away long-time surfers. I wonder if it's really intended to keep people from going into the water near where the long, sandy beach gives way to the steep cobble beach of Tillamook Head. There's often a rip current running out toward the point. For surfers, the rip provides a way to make the paddle out to the lineup easier. For the uninitiated, the rip provides a way to get pulled out into deep water, desperately try to get to shore by swimming toward the rocks, and then get smashed against them and drowned, which is a way more likely scenario than getting killed by a shark. However, humans are notoriously bad at knowing what (and what not to) be afraid of. It's possible that Parks putting up the sign had nothing to do with sharks at all.
The weather is as nice as it can possibly be for the end of October. September is often quite nice for surfing out here, but it's very rare to have it this nice so late in the fall. I take the scenic route home, over the bridge at Astoria and then north along Willapa Bay. Lots of great places to paddle in the area, and Jane and I did some canoeing at the Willapa Bay National Wildlife Refuge a couple years back.
A favorite saying in the islands is "Lucky you live Hawaii!", by which the people remind themselves to be joyful that God has placed them in such beautiful surroundings. I say "Lucky you live PNW!", because we're no less fortunate here in our corner of the planet.