January 17, 2012

The southern Oregon ccoast feels like no other part of the Northwest.  From Portland,  it takes five hours to get there along I-5 south with a cut through the coast range near Eugene.  Take the 101 from Tillamook or Seaside, and you’re looking at seven hours of winding road reminiscent to the 1 in California.   Because of this remoteness, the area gets limited visitation in the summer and in the winter, well its all but a ghost town.   Think of it as Twin Peaks with a few bags of meth borrowed from Deadliest Catch, and without the cute girls.

After a few weeks of the Pacific Northwest’s signature rain and gloom,  I headed south along the coast on my way to California.  Like most Oregonians,  I grew up spending weekends during the summer playing on the rugged northern beaches of Short Sands and Canon Beach.  My knowledge of the coast goes from good to nonexistent around Lincoln City.  With my buddy, Spencer Phillips, sitting shotgun, we worked our way down the coast searching for waves and views in the heart of winter.

Blasting.

Lagoon.

Ripping a few hundred yards out.

Late night.

Foaming.

Locs only, bro.  These gulls hold it down.

Dodge Rampage.

Sometimes slide film has a mind of its own.

Fixings.

Deers,  beware.

Holding it down.

Sunrise with Portra 160 and an Olympus XA on January 7th.

Traveling is always best in places that you don’t know that well.  The parks were empty save for a few dog walkers and retirees in their RV’s.  If you ever get the opportunity, head to this part of the country.  Bring your surf board,  there are plenty of waves.

Here are some more links,

Southern Oregon (Facebook),

Foreverenroute,

Twitter.

January 3, 2012

A few cars parked on the shoulder made me take a second look as I rounded the bend on 101 heading north on the Oregon coast.  Seeing cliffs, ocean and foam though the sparse trees,  I deliberated.   If I head back to Portland now,  it will be dark by the time I get back.  No point in hurrying. Some few hundred feet past the pull out,  I turned around in a gap in traffic and headed back to investigate.

Turning off the ignition, I unplugged my iPhone from the stereo and kept Fire on the Mountain Cornell 77′ playing through the speaker phone.  An unseasonal south wind blew in warm air,  making January 1st feel like April and I left my sweater in the backseat.  “Blooop Blooop” my alarm sounded as I shoved  my phone in my breast pocket, and grabbed my camera.

Disregarding the family of four walking towards me on the trail,  I continued my air guitar solo and passed with a smile, hair still wet from a surf session at Short Sands.

“I wonder if they can guess which car is mine?” I chuckled to myself.

The sound of waves bashing against the cliffs beckoned.

Soon,  the trees and land stopped, abruptly,  a few hundred feet above the ocean.   From this vantage point, the swells’ dark shadows lined up towards the horizon. Hopping the fence,  I brushed some gravel off a ledge and sat. Fire on the Mountain wound down to some cheers from stoned college kids now in their 50s.  Being in no rush,  I pulled out the my phone and pushed repeat.

What if…

Pebble throwing,  idea jotting.

As far west as it gets.

Narrow.

An hour of daydreaming,  pebble throwing and wave watching passed.  Despite feeling like April,  January shadows reminded me of my hour and a half drive back to Portland.  Taking one last look,  I climbed back over the wire fence and walked back towards the pulloff.

Happy New Year.  Longer days are coming.

Here are some more links,

Scarlet/Fire on the Mountain (Cornell 77),

Out of Reception.

Facebook.

December 29, 2011

The river along US-26 boiled like two week old coffee down the drain.  Rounding the last corner before merging with 101,  a gust of wind shook the Syncro’s flat sides, forcing me to take a kiddy pool sized puddle head on.  With a crrrrshhh, we displaced half the puddles contents onto a Toyota Tacoma in the oncoming lane.   For the last few hours,  the rain had battled with the fastest setting of the windshield wipers.   Advantage rain.

Pulling off the highway a few miles south, the streets of Canon Beach were empty save for a few SUVs and local pickups.  Gusts on the flags at souvenir shops and water around the storm drains hinted at why.   Eager to catch a glimpse of the ocean,  I pulled off onto a side street.  Familiar with the saying, “We’ll get’em when he comes back in,” well the last scene of Point Break was filmed at this beach in similar conditions.

“That looks like…hell,” my mom said rolling down the windows to get a better view.

“Yah.  Wow,  that’s what a half mile of whitewater looks like.”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

“A walk?”  Looking down the beach I spotted a lone person leaning at a twenty degree angle into the wind. “Yeah lets.”

Shortsands Beach.

Serious #vanlife envy.  These Mitsubishi Delica’s can’t be imported into the US, but our friends to the north, and the rest of the world, can get one for a few grand.  They are 4wd, come in turbo diesel and get between 25 and 30 MPG.

A duly named street.

Some fresh driftwood.

Wet.

Taking it all in.

It’s often said that, “the Pacific Northwest has two seasons,  August and 11 months of rain and fog.”  While I agree with this maxim,  it fails to capture the violence and intensity of the storms that charge down from the Aleutian Islands in the “Winter Months.”   Before bringing waves to Hawaii’s north shore,  these storms slam into the PNW as feral beasts, pulling trees from the ground, flooding rivers and closing harbors.  They breaking up the endless months of fog and mist,  with weather alerts and road closures.  Nowhere is their power more evident than on the northern Oregon Coast.  They make you feel small and vulnerable.

Here are some more links,

Facebook,

Twitter.

November 16, 2011

Like live canaries in a mine,  a high concentration of vans in an area suggests good things.  Adventure,  free spirits and exploration.  Parked on side streets, some of these vans lay waiting for a long weekend or a the occasional road trip.  For others,  these streets provide a safe harbor away from the watchful eye of the area’s finest.  They all dream of the open road.

Portland Oregon has a lot of vans.  Over the last few weeks,  I have been stopping and snapping shots of vans that catch my eye.  Here are some of my favorites.

Red stripe.

Syncro love.

Hippies.

Warriors.

Hunters.

Pinstripe.

V-8.

Tiger style.

Business in the front,  party in the back. Mullet.

Syncro love.

There is a lot of green going on here.  Both outside and inside I’d wager.

Fall Colors.

Two tone.

Mobile command station. VanRAD

To celebrate vans like these and the notion that, “Home is where you park it,” I have started a new tumblr called #vanlife. #Vanlife will be composed of my van shots and submissions,  so if you have a van or  see a one or another ship of the open road, take a picture and submit it here.

Here are some more links,

#vanlife (tumblr),

#Vanlife (picasa).