Six headlands jut into the North Pacific along this stretch from Manzanita to the Columbia river, linked by 22 mile long beaches and scattered rock reefs. Not so much a surfing destination as a place of brooding potential for the hearty ocean loving surfer. This land lies shrouded in fog and rain clouds many days of the year and serves as a graveyard to numerous ships, the bodies of sailors laid to rest in the depths just off the sand.
But there are waves, and living here one comes to know the moods of the coast...and embracing each of them in their moment of glory is undeniably magical. These moments fortify one's connection with nature and help to define a meaning for existence---thankfulness.
Good surf is a matter of perspective and the ocean, alive with activity , gives it's own rewards to those to offer themselves day after day. The very inconsistency of the weather in this place, it's shifts and subtle changes, make it a shangra la for an adventurous person.
That is, if one has eyes to see it that way?
The springtime winds seem relentless, causing a brown sediment rich cold water upwelling. Giant 30 pound Chinook and Coho salmon taste the sediment runoff from the rivers spilling into the ocean. Scientists still do not understand why these fish swim relentlessly from the ocean up the rivers to lay their eggs, fertilize, breed, and then peacefully die. This amazing pursuit of life and death unfolds as a drama that is unseen by the average person. The roaring river and ocean overtaking every sense we have. It is hard to imagine that all this said life abounds beneath me as I paddle out to the surf which breaks at the mouth of a river.
The wind blows and stirs up the ocean into a frenzy. Still the surface is smooth in these certain coves and hidden special places. Headlands on two sides form a reserve from the elements by blocking the wind and smoothing out the chop on the water. These coves have their own unique climate and they defy the forces of nature which attempt to stir their peace.
It is purifying to find waves in such coves where you may have to hike 2 miles through 200 year old forests before you even see the water. I am assured the waves will be all mine----until someday another adventurous soul decides to wander in after researching just exactly what weather pattern will create the wave which breaks there. Amidst the saltwater baptism I feel in this place is a cathedral of sky....the dome of which is painted anew each day. There is no greater art on the planet than the clouds which are painted on the sky above.
That is, if one has eyes to see it?
To squint at the sun and make everything golden.
To tilt your head back and accept the rain on your face---letting it naturally moisturize your lines of age.
Age is just a metaphor to attempt to explain how many experiences you have had in your life.
But the experiences here are so aplenty.
In God's eyes I must be 500 years old.
If wealth were measured by the amount of beauty surrounding one in their life....I would be the richest man in Babylon. A rich man with experience of ages from so many moments of clarity and beauty?
The North Coast of Oregon on the mighty North Pacific Ocean.
..
Home.
Can you see it?
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