December 29, 2011

Dark and Stormy

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.

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7 Comments



  • December 29 , 2011

    Fantastic shots. Really shows the bleak and powerful weather. I’ve always loved days like that. Something about watching that type of weather gives me chills.


  • December 29 , 2011

    Jay,
    I love that weather. I ended up going out surfing in the storm. it was wild. i didnt catch any waves, just bounced around in the water.
    foster


  • Peter
    December 29 , 2011

    Dude, take me with youuuu.


  • Kyle
    December 30 , 2011

    Foster, great set of shots. Dig the reflection of the Mitsubeast and rain drops on the asphalt.


  • December 30 , 2011

    Kyle,
    Youre right to call it a Mitsubeast. i want one of those so bad. check out youtube. they kill it.

    Peter,
    its out there my friend
    foster


  • January 2 , 2012

    I come from a small coastal town on the English north east…my brothers and me used to love the huge storms that pounded the beach and town especially in autumn. Both mesmerizing and terrifying at the same time…making you feel humble and exhilarated at the same time….nice shots…


  • January 2 , 2012

    I hear the north atlantic gets crazy up there. id love to see it, and surf it.
    thanks for the comment,
    foster