December 19, 2013
I pulled off the 101 south shortly after midnight into the small community of Arch Cape.
“I bet if we park in front of an empty house and pop the top, no one will fuck with us. It’s a Tuesday night and if any one sees us they will just assume we are staying at the house. Either that or we park on one of the logging roads, but those are mostly gated and the logging trucks get on it early.”
Dozing in and out, Bryan didn’t respond at first.
“You dead mon?”
“Yess…lets do Jedi mind trick style. Those logging roads are tough”
“Sounds good to me…”
I rolled down the street in first gear checking the driveways. Only a few SUV’s populated the driveways of the dozen or so ranch style beach houses. Picking one on the ocean side of the street, I pulled into the vacant driveway and turned off the lights but left the engine running. The motion lights turned on a floodlight that illuminated the driveway but nothing stirred in the house. The occasional snore emanated from the passenger street.
“Le’s crash, I think we are Kosher here.” Opening the driver’s door, I unlatched the pop top and opened the back. Two minutes later and Bryan and I were in my camper setting up our sleeping bags. A light northeast wind tugged at the camper’s canvas pop top as I settled into my sleeping bag.
“I’m setting an alarm for 6:35.”
“Sounds good to me, we’ll get on it early,” Bryan said switching off the LED ceiling light.
We both were asleep before pillow talk could start.
Caley watching peelers.
North at sunrise.
Dog walking time.
Trevor’s homemade camper.
Bryan watching the sunrise.
Cold and glassy.
Vanlife parking on the Oregon Coast.
Waiting of the tide to drop.
“The tide needs to drop a lot.”
Making coffee first thing in the morning.
The thick wetsuit shuffle.
Scotty making breakfast.
Check out more photos from this series on Adobe Revel here.
Calling it a day.
Afraid of raising suspicion with construction workers working on houses on the street, I woke before the alarm went off and laid in the comfort of my sleeping bag. I dozed. The propane heater kicked in and the electric fan whirred. Looking down at the my iPhone, it was 6:30.
“Bryan, you ready to rumble?”
“Yah.” Bryan was awake and looking at his phone as well.
“When’s low tide?”
“Ehh let me check….8:41″
“Perfect. lets get the fuck out of my dodge..”
Jumping out of the camper like Spicoli in Fast Times, I quickly latched the pop top down before hopping in the driver’s seat. “We’re home free,” I grinned to myself as we backed up and pulled out of the driveway. The first suggestion of the sunrise dotted the coastal range to the east as we headed south on the 101.
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