Don's Tuesday Column

     THE WAY I SEE IT by Don Polson  Red Bluff Daily News 8/27/2024

   No disappointment at Cape Disappointment

There is a part of Oregon’s far north coast, from Tillamook to Astoria, including the southwestern most corner of Washington state, that is, like parts of Idaho, too far for most campers’ and travelers’ destinations. It’s uncomfortably close to Portland but there’s no observable “Keep Portland Weird” vibe anywhere. The couples, families and friends are only somewhat more “diverse” than coastal towns from Newport, Florence, and Brookings to Gold Beach.

It’s home to towns named Pacific City, Netarts Bay, Oceanside, Bay City and Cannon Beach, each with their own reputation, ambiance, and unique Chamber of Commerce promotions and festivals. As our summer coastal culinary indulgences include all things oyster- and crab-related, this is where “the goods” are.

An RV park with hookups is our “home base” for day trips and “foodie” forays. “Land line” power obviates the need for either solar panels or the generator. Nearby flush toilets are a pleasing change from porta-potties and vault toilets. Our “problem cat’s” additional litter box makes Barb’s toilet area a bit cramped but the cheap feline entertainment makes up for it.

So, Highway 101, the same federal highway most of you have traveled on California coastal sojourns, continues all the way to Canada, giving the non-Interstate traveler an endless sampling of local culture and architectural “tastes.” In Oceanside, just north of our Netarts RV park, beach access across from our favorite cafe provides an endless parade of folks, including families lugging (dad, anyway) all the beach accouterments: plastic shovels, buckets, towels, coolers, “boogie” and surf boards, and wet-suits.

Our most memorable day trip involved Barb’s obsession with retracing some of the traveling her dad put her family through, begrudgingly back then, fondly recalled now. “Wake up kids, you gotta see this—Do we have to?” An oft-repeated exchange. Just considering that he took them from Los Angeles all the way here on a daily set-up-and-take-down camp regimen was impressive; however, it motivates us to spend some time in a place.

Determined to get to the Columbia River and its 5-mile long bridge, the Lewis and Clark trail, and that aptly-named Cape Disappointment, we used our Senior Pass to freely wander through the historical park. It was devoted to the journey of the Corps of Discovery by Meriwether Lewis, William Clark and several dozen incredibly hearty men, Native guide Sacajawea and, eventually, a baby.

The recreated fort in which they wintered gave a hint of the close quarters shared by the men, complete with fireplaces that were designed to vent the smoke without brick chimneys. A movie showed a dramatic short version of their year-long journey one-way to the Pacific. The four months in the fort were devoted to planning for the year-long trip back along several rivers to Saint Louis, where they started.

Part of those preparations was the laborious boiling of ocean water for salt to preserve game meat for food when game wasn’t near. Their original “dugout” canoes were wholly inadequate to the roiling waters at the mouth of the Columbia River, requiring a week to backtrack east to where they could make shorter aquatic trips among islands.

Cape Disappointment’s name reflected their mood upon realizing that there was no crossing the Columbia at the coast. Native Chinook boat builders taught them skills used to provide far superior dugout canoes for their return to the States. Seeing, and trying to grasp, the nearly infinite level of physical, and mental, labor involved in their 2-plus year journey made me question if America, outside of Special Forces military men, could produce the three dozen hardy souls to do what they did in 1805 in uncharted, wild, and often impenetrable wilderness.

Our personal disappointment nearly came to pass as we crossed the Columbia on the 5-mile, Hwy 101 bridge, which rises nearly 200 feet in an arch to allow cruise ships and freight haulers to pass underneath. Halfway down we were stopped by an accident a mile ahead; binoculars let us see the flashing lights. As some cars made the multi-point turns to return south to the Astoria, Oregon side, I said “Let’s reverse course; we’ll be here for hours.” Barb said “No way; we are going to Cape Disappointment.”

“As you wish,” I said, recalling the line from “Princess Bride.” The views of the Columbia on both sides, and coastal mountains and forests, made for a pleasant stop; the flies invading our truck cab did not. Turns out, there were endless dead birds along the causeway, hence the flies. After an hour, traffic moved, we made it to Cape Disappointment, toured the campground, and found a spot to gaze upon the ocean, a view that eluded us up to that point.

While returning to our Netarts RV spot, we saw numerous photo-inducing sunset views, which we would not have had without that hour-long delay on the bridge. Hence, ultimately we had no real disappointment over our day trip.