The Oregon coast is more Wuthering Heights than MTV Spring Break. It is stormy and rugged in a romantic kind of way. Think galoshes and raincoats instead of flip-flops and sarongs. So while most of the country followed the sun south, we drove straight west. Over the Cascades, through the fertile valley, and into the windy, rocky edge of Oregon.
We visited lighthouses, got queasy on a fishing boat, giggled at sea lions, creeped by The Goonies house, and ate way too much clam chowder. But my favorite part was seeing Devils Punchbowl: a giant rock formation whose waters swirl with the incoming tide, before emptying out into the ocean.
The path down to the beach (and bottom of the punchbowl) was inconspicuous. Had the yellow, Do-Not-Cross tape not been strung across the entrance, we would have driven right past. Do Not Cross?! More like, Welcome, All who Dare to Enter.
Duke and Eloise raced down the path only to stop abruptly at the sidewalk’s tragic end. A landslide of sorts had taken out the pathway - requiring only the truly committed to grab a rope and swing/slide down the rest of the way.
We took turns scaling down the cliff before scrambling across the barren beach, leaping over little inlets, the sand squishing beneath our feet. Then, we stopped. Not only were the sides of Devil’s Punchbowl made of rock, but so was the bottom. And rock + water = algae. It was like Trolls meets Dr. Seuss: the algae was a furry, neon green, with red/orange/brown worlds growing in between. Fairy dust and moon craters.
We crawled across the slippery rock, before Duke insisted we go back, worried that the tide would suddenly burst in and we would be dragged out to sea.
A safe distance from the Punchbowl, we wandered around the tide pools. Still slipping and leaping and exclaiming. We saw sea urchins and alien-like-life-forms. We got slapped by the spray of the waves and laughed at each other’s reactions. The moment forever captured in my mind.
The sun faded into the horizon as slowly as the tide came rolling in, so we turned one last time toward the rising water in the punchbowl before trudging back.
It’s hard to say why this moment, more than any other, stands out from our trip. Was it because it was so unexpected? So new? Was it because of the sense of urgency, knowing that we had a small sliver of time to see it? Or because the world was filled with color and light and wonder. Perhaps, it’s all of the above. A mix of emotions and sights.
Like punch: swirling and stirring around.
No comments:
Post a Comment