Picture Postcard

The sweet little village of  Happy Camp has never looked prettier than this weekend.  

Who wouldn't want to spend time there?

Cabin Fever Creates Crab Racing

The long, stormy winters here on the Oregon Coast really separate the locals from the tourists. To put this in perspective, it has rained 68.86 inches in the first 9 weeks of this year and last week's wind storm topped out with gusts of 92 mph.

It is really helpful if you are an indoors introvert and like to read, do puzzles and generally spend time alone.  For the more social, drinking (a lot) is another answer as people move from bar to bar on inclement afternoons to catch up with friends.  Luckily, the town is small enough to walk between the establishments and then back home.  Either way, along about this time, cabin fever has been known to set in.

With the tourists long gone and no one to harass, even the locals get a little stir crazy. You know, a little something to look forward to, thus the Annual Garibaldi Crab Races became the social event of the season.  How I wish I had been there the night this wild jamboree was invented. Imagine the conversation at the tavern when the gauntlet was thrown down, "My crab is faster than your crab."  "Say's who?" shouted from the other end of the bar.

As crab is plentiful during the winter, it didn't take long to gather the starting line up and the cheering (gambling) for the quickest crustacean followed.  The crab are motivated by the fact that the losers will be eaten before the next round of racing begins.  An excellent example of human's ability to adapt to their environment and utilize what is available. The crab didn't see it coming.

The winter sport took off and soon it became an annual tradition complete with colorful crab hats, exciting prizes and another reason to gather (drink) in the winter.  So melt the butter and pour a beer, it is time for the Annual Crab Races as the weekend weather will be dark and stormy yet again.

Note: My apologies to the crab, luckily the sport wasn't invented by the local dairy farmers.

There's No Place Like Home

When this is the place you call home, there is no reason to leave. None.  Even though the winter storms are getting a little old and I long for the day when I can sit in my favorite chair with the sun on my face, it is still heaven.


I found this aerial photo of Netarts Bay looking toward Oceanside online.   When we look really closely, we can see home on the right.  It is hard to tell if I am outside in my chair or not.  Thanks to the photographer who would get credit if I only knew. 

Sanity Check

Mother Nature wreaked havoc on the Oregon Coast this week.  Homes were evacuated, raging rivers flooded their banks, the power was out and entire communities became cut off from the outside world by landslides.

Undaunted, these citizens watched out for each other during the storms and continue to help each other dig out from under tons of silt, water, and trees.  Often sending a distressed plea through social media for others to check on loved ones when the roads were washed away.  This small community banded together and the heartwarming stories are many.

We fared much better than most, only losing a pine tree to the wild winds.  It snapped off 16 feet up, unceremoniously dropping the upper half on the fence.  At the coast they jokingly call this "having your firewood delivered to your door."  Many have had it delivered by ocean waves this week, thankfully, not in our case.

The storms continue to batter the shore with lively thunder and lighting last night and another high wind warning alert for tomorrow.  Just as you are considering a sanity check might be in order, a moment (like the one pictured here) comes along.  The salty air whirls around you, the sky lightens and the birds once again take flight.  The calm before the next storm reminds you of why you live here.

"Keep Netarts Weird"

Today, I am passing along this article written by a Netart native which talks about locals, tourists and travelers.  I share it with you so you understand when I post these silly blogs describing life on the Oregon Coast, I am not making it up...

http://www.tillamookcountypioneer.net/riprap-and-riffraff-and-other-common-tales-from-the-coast-tourists-versus-travelers/

Somehow the Coast's wild, untouched beauty makes up for the crazy human antics that cause me to shake my head in wonder.

Coastal Navigation

“Turn at the goats.”  That was it, the complete driving directions we received when calling the Quilt and Textile Center.

“The goats?” we asked.

“Yes, the goats,” which was repeated three more times during the conversation.

Finally giving up and hanging up, my front seat navigator turned to me perplexed.  “What goats?” she asked me.  I shrugged.  In my eight years in this coastal community, I have never seen a goat.  Plenty of cows, but no goats.

It wouldn’t have been quite so frustrating if we hadn’t already…

… been traveling back and forth on the same six mile loop for over an hour looking for the Center,

…stopped at the Visitors Center which was closed on a Saturday during the busy tourist season providing no help,

…followed the attraction signs which pointed us in a different direction altogether,

…or, learned the GPS system directs to you the fairgrounds on the other side of the city.

So we abandoned our plans to see the Quilt and Textile Center and headed back home to Netarts on Hwy 101.    A mile down the road we come upon another sign to the Center and decide on one, last ditch effort to find the place.  A few blocks past the sub shop and car wash, we see the building.  Hooray!  As we turn in, off to the right there is a house with a play structure in the yard and, imagine that, a couple of goats lying down in the tall grass.  We can just barely see their ears sticking up and it's not a herd of goats or a landmark by any means.

When we finally walked in the front door we were greeted by the Center Staff who were completely unfazed as we described our journey.  Without even a hint of concern that visitors might not be able to find them, they simply stated once again, “Well, we told you to turn at the goats.”

Note:  We were the only car in the parking lot.

Carwash Blues

You slip the car into neutral
Roll up the windows
and sit back for a wild ride

Water comes shooting at you from every direction
(you check the windows again)
The noise is furious as it pelts against the glass
Sheets of water blur your vision

The next thing you know you are being buffeted by wind
A strong blast of air hits the glass causing it to bow towards your face
Your ears warble as the pressure inside changes drastically
and you try to make them pop by continuous swallowing
All the while hoping the vehicle stays intact

Then it's over, you gently and quietly roll to the end.

Except it's not over...

You realize you are not in your car after all
You are sitting at your kitchen table overlooking the ocean
Surrounded by windows and a nasty coastal storm
A storm currently hurling rain, wind and airborne branches
Straight toward you
at 65 mph

and it's not going to be over for a very long time.

So you slip your nervous mind into neutral
and sit back for a wild ride.

Coastal Humor

When you live in place where the rain, wind, sand and water are constantly conspiring against you, a sense of humor is important.  It may also be a little twisted and we like that about each other.

You just have to chuckle when a coastal town names their local fun run, "Race the Wave"  in an attempt to raise awareness for tsunamis and other possible hazards of living so close to an ocean.

While I am not very fast, I do expect to compete when The Big One hits our community.

I will be out of the starting gate and ahead of the competition in my own exhilarating race I'd like to call...

"Run FROM the Wave"

Nine Lives

Everyone on the Oregon Coast has a story to tell.   Luckily, the pace of coastal time makes it easy to sit and listen to them.  The crusty bunch of characters who share the land at the continent's edge have done a wide variety of things.  In our small area alone...

• The realtor was the general store owner after retiring from a company "in the valley"
• The mole trapper was a stone mason
• The bartender was a school teacher
• The home inspector organized motorcycle events in Bend while working in a grocery store
• The breakfast diner's cook was in the "big house"
• The plumber was a commercial fisherman in Alaska
• The cable installer didn't really remember much about his past, but told the tale eloquently

Somehow or other, they have found their way to one of the most beautiful places on Earth.  It's not easy living here.  Making a living can be as daunting as the grey clouds in winter, but they adjust, learn a new skill and stay.   

It's all worth it when the sun comes out and the crab are swept in with the tide.  Business comes to a screeching halt and you'll find them seizing the day, leaving work behind and living the dream!

May we all be so lucky.

Small Town Entertainment

The local police placed this gadget on our quiet street which has a posted speed limit of 25.  It is a pretty small street, so you really have to work to get above that.  Anyway, it has been here for months instead of being useful out on Highway 101.

It is not fair of me to say it isn't useful because it has actually provided hours of fun for the town's children.  They learned that it won't post a speed if you are just walking by, but if you ride your bike, well, that's a different story.

This week a group of teenagers took up the challenge of seeing who could go the fastest.  They set up a system of spotters to make sure no cars were coming and upon the "all clear" signal, the biker was off pedaling at top speed past the machine.  After several rounds of competition, the winner clocked in at 17 mph!  It must be said there were a few challengers at 15 mph too.

Perhaps this pastime a much better use of tax dollars than having the device out on Hwy. 101 harassing tourists after all.

Mandatory Stargazing

Most of Rockaway Beach was indoors watching the Olympics late Saturday night, oblivious to the incredible meteor shower happening right outside.  Apparently either God or the Tillamook PUD decided to take matters into their own hands and change that. 

Out went the lights in an exciting flash of colors, and then it was dark, very dark.  Getting up from their cozy chairs, most residents filed outside to see what was happening.  Neighbors met in the street for a quick confab about the power issue and soon discovered the vast amount of stars visible in the dark without the city light washout.

Among those stars were the multicolored, vibrant shooting stars of the Perseid Meteor Shower,  This annual August 11-12th shower can produce 60 meteors per hour.  Birthday Bob reported seeing nine amazing meteors during his backyard star-gazing. 

He still believes this celestial event is produced especially for his birthday each year and we don't have the heart to tell him otherwise.

Beach Biking

Not a bad way to see all eight miles of sandy beach that Rockaway has to offer.  She just needs a bottle of wine, loaf of bread and some cheese sticking out of that basket!

Night Sky on Fourth of July

Wet N' Wild

When this firetruck reaches the end of Rockaway's Fourth of July Parade...

It gears up and starts shooting water...lots of it!

At first the spectators beg for it...

Then it hits, full force...

And the holiday tradition continues...

Note:  The adult in the crowd was having a ball as evidenced by his great big grin!

All American City

Once a year, the sleepy town of Rockaway Beach, Oregon becomes a hotbed of flag-waving activity.  The Fourth of July Celebration is something to behold as the normally 1,400 population swells to over 15,000 people.

Here's a guide to surviving (no, thriving) over the patriotic holiday:

• Highway 101 is the only way in or out of town...expect delays.
• The local restaurants are taxed beyond belief...plan to cook at home.
• The only grocery store has lines out the door...bring your hot dogs and s'more fixings with you.
• Our usually "screaming fast" internet stream is but a drip...turn off the computer and go outside.
• Speaking of drips, the water and sewer system are at peak capacity...cross your fingers.
• Every home is occupied and most of the yards have tents too...wave to your neighbors.
• If the parade staging area (aka early morning cocktail party) is outside your house...plan to get up early and join the fun because the "Sponge Bob" float will be blaring it's theme song--guaranteed.
• If the fog rolls in just in time for the fireworks...seek higher ground for a better view.

If the sky is clear...sit on the beach, watch the spectacle dance overhead and join your fellow citizens in a symphony of "Oooohs and Aaaaahhs."

Pirates vs. Carnies

"There will be no carnival rides during this year's Pirate Festival," it was announced at the Rockaway Beach City Council meeting.

It seems the pirates were booked the weekend that the carnival was available and the carnival was booked when the pirates were available.  After much discussion and consideration, it was decided that there should be pirates at the Pirate Festival and the city would just have to do without the carnival.

Pirates 1-0.

Udderly Indignant

Dear Townspeople,

Isn't it enough that no one wants me around (except the radio station that kidnapped me).  I have been moved more than a handful of times at your requests and am now trying to "bloom where I am planted" as my therapist says. 

I have been ridiculed, laughed at, and even ridden by camera wielding tourists.  But I think this hat is the ultimate embarrassment.  I appreciate your hard work to knit it and sneak it on me after dark, but do you realize I have hoofs, not hands? I can't even take this thing off.  It makes me look like a chicken...a chicken of all things!

I appreciate a good joke as much as the next cow, but will someone please take this hat off my head!

Sincerely,


Your Town Cow

Photo credit:  Headlight Herald

Do You Happen To Have Any Grey Poupon?

Traveling down Highway 101 making yet another run to the hardware store last weekend, this car pulled out in front of us.  It jettisoned onto the highway along a quiet stretch that comes directly down from the mountains.

A true coastal car, this vessel had rope and a cleat in case of high tide, a motorcycle for a fast get away, a wooden plank tied to the right side so as not to be side-swiped, a missing persons sign in the back window, a bike wheel on the roof and a coffee pot swinging in the breeze.  Appearing to be held together by rust and mold, it squeaked and bounced down the road randomly firing puffs of black smoke at us.

Easing alongside at the first stop light, we noted the interior matched the exterior of this road warrior.  Slyly glancing over at the driver, he appeared to be a coastal character too! 

Sir, Can I See Your Permit?

This seagull had better be handicapped because is loitering on the "Handicapped" piling.  Normally, it wouldn't be much of an issue, but it is spring break on the Oregon Coast and the local police are on high alert.

Roost at  your own risk.

Losers Will Be Eaten

This just in...The Headlight Herald reports the Garibaldi Annual Championship Crab Races are scheduled for March 10 and 11th.  The races start at noon and "are scheduled to end around 5 p.m., but organizers warn they could end early if they run out of racing crabs."

How they could run out of racing crabs with the event venue just feet from the bay?  How they can tell if they are "racing" crabs anyway?  The only advice I have for those crabs is, scamper like hell down that slippery track because the losers are first in the pot.