Day 23 Monday, July 16

From 6000 feet to 1. Descending from Mt. Hood to the Pacific was a journey of climatic changes.

We left Timberline (aptly named because Nature would not allow a single tree to grow above the hotel) and we were seen out by skiers slaloming into the parking lot, enjoying the 45 degree July weather. Double layers of clothes and heated seats got us through the first half hour. Skirting Portland, we were soon in the Willamette Valley.

Gloves and jackets came off as the temperature rose. This fertile valley supports agriculture of all types. Fruit trees, berries, nursery stock and grape line the road. Known for its wine, the valley supports hundreds of vineyards and tasting rooms. Our wine tasting took place at our picnic lunch with a fine bottle of local Pinot Noir.

Visiting a few nurseries, we attempted to put faces to names of people with whom we do business. Headed toward the Coast. We passed the Evergreen Air Museum and Water Park in McMinville. It was an interesting combination of old planes and amusements. There was a 727 parked on top of a huge building. From the side of the plane, a waterslide twisted down and into the building below. What fun for kids!

Jackets and gloves back on, we faced the cold mist of the Pacific Ocean.
My recollection of the Oregon Coast was a wild and rocky expanse of shoreline with few little towns weathering the elements. Arriving at Lincoln City, I realized my memory must have been based on an entirely different section of the coast. Here one finds a thriving tourist haven, complete with dozens of hotels and many shops. There is even a Tanger Outlet!

After settling into our room, we rode out to dinner. A sky mottled with clouds promised a Pacific sunset, but when we left the restaurant, fog and more clouds commanded the view.

We rode down to the beach, walked onto the sand and found a huge driftwood log for perfect seats to watch a fiery stripe of horizon, the only proof of sun, change and grow minute by minute. Fires on the beach and the fire in the sky were the only breaks in the growing darkness. Salty spray and wind whipped at our faces and now we felt the wildness of the Oregon Coast. All the tourist activity, just over the dunes, was erased by the beauty of this moment.