Road Trip Journal #5

 

Saturday, February 6^th

 

A brief morning stroll through Hood River – a cheerful, peaceful, affluent-feeling town sloping down to the river. Then pressed on along the southern bank of the Columbia, which is strikingly more forested than the northern (Washington) side. This will be the theme of driving in Oregon: when there’s nothing else, there will be trees. Lots and lot and lots of trees.

 

Portland was distinctly disappointing. Businesses pretending to be open while offering so many draconian restrictions that they might as well be closed. Almost impossible to find a public restroom; there’s one in the Whole Foods, but the first entrance I went to was closed (no idea why), and the entrance that was open was on a completely different street. I know there’s a pandemic and everything, but Portland seemed determined to make everything as difficult as possible. Also just not a very attractive or interesting city. I spent an hour or so there, and it was more than enough.

 

Bought slacks at a Men’s Wearhouse in Salem (no denim on Bandon Dunes golf courses!) and meandered on south and west. Route 20 heading out toward the coast started to feel like the middle of nowhere; not much to see but trees, trees, trees. (I mean this in a good way.) Hit the coast itself at Newport, which seemed like a nice little oceanfront community, but as I continued south down the 101, I started to get a little tired of these touristy beach towns. Where was the fabled wildness of Oregon? This part of the coast seemed a little tame.

 

Things did get more dramatic farther south; the bridge coming down into North Bend and Coos Bay offered some spectacular views. And it was here that I started to see clear evidence of logging: huge piles of logs stacked along the harbor, for transport to who knows where. It was actually a little thrilling to realize that logging is still a prominent feature of Oregonian life; the world of Sometimes a Great Notion didn’t feel too far away…

 

And after that: Bandon Dunes! I had tried explaining to Robb Stey that I was completely unfit to set foot on a world-class golf course (having never played a round in my life), but he wouldn’t hear it. “This is what you need,” he said. “I can’t recommend it more from the core of my soul.”

 

And so I found myself pulling into Bandon Dunes a little before sunset. The air off the ocean was cool, and the place did feel like a blessed sanctuary. My corner room in the Lakeview complex had windows on two sides looking straight into a forest. The style of the room was what you might call “monastic luxury.” After several days on the road, it felt a little like coming home.