When the temp reaches 97 degrees in the Willamette Valley, plus a pollen count that’s off-scale even for here, it’s time to skedaddle to the coast. Oregonians call it “the coast” because it’s not a beach… it’s a rocky stretch of sand scoured by cold wind and covered by clouds and fog. It’s just not a place where you stretch out with your paper umbrella in your drink and your floppy hat covering your face from the sun. Floppy hats must be anchored with elastic chin-bands, and drinks just make your hands colder. But we love it. You cross the center line of Highway 101 to turn onto the coast access road, and the temp plunges 40 degrees – no kidding! The brave little souls painted above were having a marvelous adventure because they don’t know any different… I hope their hot cocoa was waiting for them when they finally were dragged away!
No trip to the coast is complete without a trip to Mo’s Chowder. We sat out of the wind and enjoyed garlic cheese bread with our bowls of buttery chowder, and I had a perfect view of the dock and the Tsunami-bait homes out on the jetty.
We stayed a few nights, had quite an adventure in the casino, and were ready to come home to a much more comfortable stretch of temps in the 70’s… whew! Here comes summer!