We rolled into Cannon Beach, Oregon about 3:30 pm last Saturday, and stopped at Jupiter’s Rare and Used Books to see our good friend, Jennifer. We found the family all there, except for Watt, who was at a rehearsal for Our Town. We spent what was left of the afternoon visiting with Roan, Willa and Jennifer. Ginger was in heaven in the bookstore, being the center of attention. When Watt returned, Jennifer excused herself to attend to an impending childbirth (she is apprenticed as a midwife). Watt took us to dinner at Bill’s Tavern, a local brewpub that serves up some of the best fish and chips ever. Their standard is cod, but you can also get halibut if you prefer. (Says Laura… the homemade root beer is to-die-for too!)

After dinner, we relocated to their property… 20+ acres of forested hillside overlooking the Nehalem River Valley. Upon arrival, we had an exciting time maneuvering their driveway, which circles all the way around the house. After walking it, we knew it would be tight, but believed it was manageable. Well, there was one point where it was a little tighter than we thought and the tires on the driver’s side started to ride up on a stump hidden under some foliage. Had we not stopped, it looked as if the trailer could have tipped over. Now we were fully committed, and backing out didn’t turn out to be any easier than going forward. With Roan watching the front wheels of the truck to make sure I knew before driving off the edge, and Laura watching from behind, we repositioned a few times before finally getting to a place that allowed us to swing wide enough to make it through the turn and come to rest in a safe and level place. Whew! That was stressful! Our most challenging condition since the day we first took the trailer up to the Fern Flat property, but that is another story.

As we were driving in to the area, we noticed a lot of down trees. We’ve seen quite a few logging jobs over the years, and what we saw looked like some really shoddy work. What we learned from Jennifer is that, in reality, we were seeing the remnants of a wind event that came through here last fall. Their wind gauge broke at 139 mph. Shingles were torn from their roof and a number of very large trees were uprooted next to the driveway. It must have been terrifying.

Watt made a dish for breakfast that we’d never had before: Dutch Baby. I haven’t a clue where the name came from, but it was a treat, something like a crepe in flavor, something a bit like a soufflé in texture… anyway, it was very tasty. It seems like a really good dish to serve when having company for a Sunday brunch. Then, we all (except for Jennifer, who was still with the expectant mother) packed up and went to one of the girl’s favorite swimming holes on the Nehalem River. It was a delight to join Willa and Roan as the leapt into the current to be carried downstream, swimming to shore, walking back up and starting over again (and again and again). It turned out to be just down the road from the campground we stayed at the last time we visited, a couple of years ago. The water wasn’t quite as warm as Canyon Lake or the Gulf. Actually, it was quite brisk. They are a couple of the coolest kids on the planet. Willa gives her age as “twelve and four quarters” because she isn’t ready to be a teenager, although she is more mature than many adults we know. Roan is a dreamer. At nine, she entertains herself quite well and appreciates the work of Van Gogh. In the later afternoon, I found the girls on the Internet, looking at posters made from paintings done by a French artist. Not standard fare for their age group.

In the morning, we got up in time to see Willa off to school. Jennifer had finally made it home around 2 a.m. The labor was long but Mother and baby both came through in good shape. We felt fortunate to have a few hours to catch up with her before heading out. It was great fun to watch Noche frolicking with Leche, a two year old Great Pyrenees guardian dog.

Even though it has been years between visits, once we are back together and start talking, it almost seems as if we’d seen each other last week. After breakfast, it was time for the morning rituals of tending to the chickens and milking the goats, and Jen needed to sleep. For us, it was time to hitch up and get on our way.

We didn’t quite make it out of Montana our first night out of Flathead Lake. Having given ourselves the luxury of an unstructured day, we began hitching and stowing at about 3:30 in the afternoon. Then, during the pre-trip check, we discovered a low tire on the trailer. Changing it further delayed our departure. We pulled into a Forest Service campground on the Bull River just as evening fell. This was one of the few times on the Journey when we were truly disconnected, no cell signal, no internet via air card, no satellite signal, and had we wanted to stay more than just overnight, no solar charging because we were tucked away under the trees. The area was very much like our beloved Smith River in California, except that the trees were firs and pine, not coastal redwood. In the morning, the animals enjoyed exploring the campground and Noche got to romp with “Jock”, an English Springer Spaniel owned by a guy working on a project at the day use area.

The next day took us to Ponderay, near Sandpoint, Idaho where we had a very fruitful (if longer than preferred) layover. We had been in search of a fresh water source and dump station since leaving Flathead and found a very nice set up at the Bonner County Fairgrounds. Since we didn’t seem at risk of being in anyone else’s way, we stayed at the dump station while Laura showered and caught up the dishes. On our way to the Fairgrounds, we spotted a place to have the tire repaired. Laura went across the street to a nice grocery store called “Yokes” (they had really good coffee, by the way) while we waited. The tire was remounted after repairing what they thought must be a bad valve stem. Looking again, once it was at eye level on the back of the trailer, they discovered that it was bubbling through a tiny crack in the wheel itself. Now we have a new wheel that doesn’t match the rest and our wallet is a little lighter. We’ll be keeping an even closer eye on the condition of the tires from this point on. Four hours after arriving in Ponderay and fully stocked for boondocking, we got back on the road. Ironically, there were no good options for boondocking anywhere near our travel path within the time frame that we were ready to stop for the night. We located Riverside State Park outside of Spokane. Driving to it took us through congested, narrow city streets. Entering the park, we were taken aback by the prices. $30/night for a site overlooking the river with electricity and water. Welcome back to coastal pricing. Oh, and by the way… as soon as we left Montana the price of fuel jumped about 20 cents a gallon. After looking at the “premium” sites, we drove up to check out the other sites up the hill. We’re spoiled by the beautiful places that we’ve been and weren’t very impressed with what we found here. We decided to spend the money to camp by the river and were rewarded by a very active osprey nest just across from our campsite.

In the morning, we discovered that Riverside State Park was more interesting than we realized. We took the dogs for a walk across the “hanging bridge” to a connector to the Centennial Trail… a paved bike trail that runs all the way from Spokane, Washington to Coeur d’Alene Idaho. The bridge spans a rapid known as “bowl and pitcher”. There were striking, unusually shaped monoliths rising from the riverbed.

Once we got on the road, we spent some time on US 395, heading south. The last time we were on US 395, we were outside Lone Pine, CA on April 2, just a few days after we set out from Santa Cruz. Somehow, it seemed significant… crossing back into Oregon… and on a highway that had routed us away months ago. We left 395 to head west on I-84, which runs along the Oregon side of the Columbia River. Shortly, we noticed the Boardman Tree Farm. Laura had an internet signal, so she did a Google search and we learned more. Originally planted as a pulp crop, this 17,000 acres of hybrid Poplar trees is now destined to be sustainably harvested to provide a permanent source of up to 100,000 board feet of lumber each year, processed at a new sawmill built specifically for this farm.

Our overnight stop was just below John Day Dam, enjoying one of the most striking sunsets that we’ve seen. Colors that looked artificial. The dam, when illuminated, is also quite attractive from our vantage point. We hadn’t planned on boondocking but were prepared and when this option presented itself we took advantage of having systems in place. We never realized what a major transportation corridor this is. In addition to shipping traffic on the river itself, there are also very active rail lines and major highways on both the Washington and Oregon sides of the river. In the morning, while enjoying the warmth of the early morning sun, Laura spotted a sturgeon (at least 4 feet) leaping entirely out of the water. We watched this loaded barge chugging up the river with a huge smiley face on its side enter the locks at the dam and disappear behind the giant sliding door that we allow it to continue its journey.

After everyone’s needs were met, we continued on down the Columbia River Gorge. We crossed I-5 and passed through Portland. Crossing the river one more time, we felt the intensity of being in a city and were very happy that we had no need to get off the highway. Heading west on route 26, we climbed through the Coastal Range, stopping to fill our water bottles at an artesian well along the side of the road. We watched the thermometer drop down from the 70s to the upper 50s as we saw a fog bank to the south and west. That was when we knew we had arrived. Once again, we were on the Pacific Coast.