Northern Oregon Coast
After three long days waiting for Mercedes to diagnose Bessie’s diesel leak, we were stir-crazy. By Wednesday morning, we’d had enough. We threw our bags in the van, cranked up the music, and bolted west from Beaverton toward the northern Oregon coast. The minute we reached Seaside Beach, the air changed—saltier, freer, the kind of air that erases frustration in a single breath.
At Cannon Beach, Haystack Rock rose out of the mist like a giant stone sentinel—235 feet of volcanic monolith that doubles as a puffin habitat in warmer months. Kodi tore down the sand, wild and happy, while Alan snapped photos. On our walk back, I spotted The Alchemy Lounge and McGregor’s Whiskey Bar, glowing warm and golden inside. “Let’s go in for a burger,” I told Alan. He hesitated for about two seconds before following. One bite later, we decided to stay the night in one of their cozy seaside cottages.
The concierge—a silver-haired storyteller with a knack for mystery—told us about hidden sea caves at Hug Point State Recreation Area, visible only before dawn at low tide. “Bring flashlights,” he said, lowering his voice, “and watch your step near the waterfall.” So the next morning, we were out on the sand before sunrise, headlamps slicing through fog, Kodi trotting ahead like a furry explorer. The tide had pulled back to reveal narrow passageways carved into the cliffs—ghostly, echoing chambers that once allowed stagecoaches to travel the beach before Highway 101 was built.
Still charged from our pre-dawn adventure, we chased more coastal gems: Indian Beach at Ecola State Park, Crescent Beach, and the hidden forest trails at Arcadia and Short Sand Beach, where surfers carried boards down mossy paths that smelled of cedar and rain.
By late morning, we made the pilgrimage inland to the Tillamook Creamery, because no Oregon road trip is complete without a stop for ice cream and cheese samples. We tried (and failed) to find Cape Meares Lighthouse—construction detours kept rerouting us—but we pressed on to Rockaway Beach, where the ocean stretched endless and gray.
A quick stop at the Jacobsen Salt Factory turned into a small shopping spree. I couldn’t resist the sampler sets—tiny jars of sea salt in smoked, lemon zest, and black garlic—for family back home.
Farther down the coast, the Oregon Coast Scenic Railroad chugged by near Garibaldi, its black locomotive blowing steam over the bay. We rolled through Pacific City, stopping at Pelican Brewery, where the patio overlooked waves pounding Cape Kiwanda. A cold ale and fish tacos later, we felt completely recharged.
The rest of the afternoon was a scenic blur—Otter Crest Scenic Viewpoint, the churning cauldron of Devils Punchbowl, and Depoe Bay, where whale watchers leaned over railings as gray whales breached offshore. Crossing the graceful Conde McCullough Bridge, the sun dipped low, painting the coastline in soft amber light.
Just before sunset, we landed at Agate Beach. Across the street stood the Best Western Plus Agate Beach Inn—surprisingly luxe and reasonably priced. We treated ourselves to dinner at its Sea Glass Bistro, a restaurant that quickly became one of our trip favorites: fresh halibut, roasted vegetables, and a sunset over the Pacific that shimmered like the restaurant’s namesake.
