Oregon Adventures

A Pacific Northwest adventure with my Son

How many of you remember the movie “Road to Perdition?” It was a dark film about a mob enforcer son who witnesses a murder, forcing he and his father (Tom Hanks) to take to the road, and his father down a path of redemption. On a long weekend, my son and I took a road trip down the Oregon coast. He witnessed nothing but memories of a childhood filled with good times, unfortunate turns, the aftermath, and how to move forward. In many ways, it was our “Road to Perdition,” where we tried to clear the closet of our ghosts and gain back some time as father and son.

As always, Southwest Airlines is my trusted travel friend. A deal popped up to the Pacific Northwest, a region I always wanted to explore. My son flew along on a companion pass. Having said that, this trip was not about photography, it was about Glenn Jr., his dad and making up lost for time.

Portland Bound

I’m told when flying to the Pacific Northwest, the earlier the flight the better. Glenn and I flew out of Houston’s Hobby Airport at 7am, landing in Portland 3.5 hours later and around 9-10am (I don’t remember). The flight was uneventful. I was concerned as Glenn gets motion sickness at times, but we were prepared for that event with medication. As we touched down with the Williamette river in one direction and Mount Hood in the other, we watched the F-15 fighters from the Oregon National Guard doing flight operations out of PDX International. The airlines landing were in harmony with fighter aircraft taking off and performing maneuvers in the airspace around Portland. A brief ground taxi from the runway and we were at the gate. After deplaning, the first thing we both noticed was how clean the airport was. The people seemed friendly, and several said hello in passing. The area and the locals reminded me of Austin, Texas with mountains. I’d been told to expect that, as Portland, Austin and Asheville, North Carolina were in a way “sister cities.” Having spent time in Austin and Asheville, the cities almost have a rebellious vibe. Fiercely independent, while distinctly American. I found myself thinking, “I’ve got to come back just to explore Portland.” But on this trip, I was here to show my son the Pacific Ocean for the first time. Within 25 minutes, we were in our Subaru SUV, which we later learned was the “rental car”of choice for Oregon and we were off.

In search of Interstate 5, we navigated several beltway type roads around the airport before finally connecting to I-5, south. An hour later, we’d pass through Salem before heading west to the coast. The driving was interesting as everyone in Oregon seemed to obey the speed limit. We stopped at a great burger place in Salem “Nancy Jo’s Burgers and Fries,” sat in the car and ate. We found ourselves laughing about the cultural differences between Houston, Greensboro and Silver Spring. After another 45 minutes, a stop at a historic covered bridge, we finally reached the coast. I smiled to myself as Glenn kept looking to his right as sand dunes blocked his views. And then… bam!

The drive now became slower. There were so many places to stop, so many unknown things to see and experience. What we did notice, were the number of 1960’s era vintage Volkswagen vans around. We, clearly were in hippy country and there was no turning back. One of the first places we stopped was just south of Lincoln City. Here the rocky outcroppings were unique with trees on top of once magnificent mini-mountains, now slowly crumbling into the sea. The next stop was a tree lined path to the ocean. Here the area was desolate except for the one couple who sat about 50 yards back from the beach. After Glenn and I roamed the coastline for the bit, the older gentleman said, “watch out for the rogue waves!” We both looked at him with a slightly comical look. Later that evening at the hotel, we learned that rogue waves were a real thing, randomly washing ashore like mini tidal waves sweeping people back out to sea. Note to self, watch the surf and be ready to run if I hear “jaws music.” And then we hit a fog layer. To be clear it’s now about 2:30 in the afternoon. What the “fog” is happening here?? On the positive front, we did find ourselves watching a group of sea lions who were now surrounded by high tide on a rock. It was grey, drizzly and ugly out, but this group appeared to be happy and content. Emerging from the fog, we stopped more than a dozen times (one of our favorites being the town of Yachats) before arriving at our destination for the evening in  Bandon, OR.  We walked around town looking for a late night bite, and found a grand spot for dinner. Then… to sleep. It had been a long day. As I drifted off, Glenn was checking his social media later saying he was communicating with friends in Texas, Maryland and North Carolina.

The Road Back

The next morning, we headed north. We’d spend our final night in Cannon Beach, and that was roughly 3 hours up the coast (in a drive without stops). We talked a great deal while on the narrow, curvy roads. Some things I knew, and others were clearly through the lens of a “then” college freshman. While the first day was random conversation, the second was more reflective, at least for me. What had I done wrong? What were the consequences of actions so many years ago?  The things you think about while looking at your first born who’s now a young man of voting age.  I think Glenn was looking at his choices, his past, future and his long term goals. As a parent, we want the best, but at times don’t know when to stop talking. So I drove in silence for the most part, gazing lazily at the pacific between conversations.. The ocean vast and unforgiving. I could not help but think millions of people in dozens of countries and five American states were also contemplating this body of water, and likely at the same time.

One of our first stops of the day was the Oregon City Bridge. The bridge, also known as the Arch Bridge, is a steel through arch bridge spanning the Willamette River between Oregon City and West Linn, Oregon, United States. Completed in 1922, it is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. We stayed there for nearly an hour. Glenn really enjoy the view while I enjoyed the moment of solitude. Taking a moment to pause has always been a signature moment of quality for me. At some point of the trip, Glenn secured my prized treble clef necklace. My childhood friend, Terry Tabb gave it to me in my late teens. It had been with me since then, only taken off to be cleaned. It looked good on him and I was more than happy to relinquish my prized possession.

We loaded back in the car and pulled away from this destination. Of all the stops we made, this place would likely have the most lasting memory (to me at least). Why? I saw my younger self in my son: Inquisitive, vulnerable, happy. We drove another hour, driving slowly and watching the pacific.  Along the way, a random, “I love you dad.” Next stop: Newport.

Newport has been a playground for visitors since the late 1800’s. Nestled between the Coast Mountains, Pacific Ocean and Yaquina Bay, the natural beauty of the area draws those seeking a unique and exciting coastal experience.

Yaquina Head is the site of Oregon’s tallest and second oldest active lighthouse. The 93-foot-tall structure was completed in 1872. Built on Yaquina Head, the lighthouse is located at a natural area that was created by lava flow more than 14 million years ago. Newport’s beginnings shaped two distinct areas of town: the Historical Bayfront and Nye Beach. During the early 1900s, Nye Beach was the number one visitor attraction on the coast. Hot sea baths, taffy stores, agate shops entertained visitors from the Willamette Valley. Nye Beach is still a very popular haven for the arts, with the Newport Performing Arts and Visual Arts Center amidst unique galleries, book stores, eateries, shopping and lodging. We stopped and scanned the horizon for whales, we saw none. We loaded back in the car and headed north. We’ve been on the coast now for about 24 hours, getting used to the northwest vibe. While there’s nothing I can say for public radio, there is something to say about conversation, the power of silence and the power of the pacific ocean. About this point in the trip, it suddenly began getting cooler. But the sun was out, and the clouds were high and distant. Hey, the PNW, it’s all good.

After leaving the main road and wandering through back roads, finding local beaches in full tailgate mode and incredible mountain ranges, we arrived in Cannon Beach. There, the clouds began to close in and the winds began to swirl. This part of the coast probably had the largest concentration of tourists. Beautiful beaches, with small mountains rising from the sea. Glenn was less than excited when I wanted to walk the shore and take photos. I think he would be very happy to have been in the car with the heat on. Me, not so much. We spent about an hour on the beach before driving up the coast to our hotel.

We spent the night in Seaside, Oregon, had a quiet dinner in town and called it a night. While this post has been brief, the unspoken dialogue between my son and I will give pause for the short term. He is on a path few saw coming.

The trip back to Portland in the morning would be uneventful, cloudy and misty. Dropping off the rental car was typical, as was our flight home.  We had much to contemplate: our roles as father and son, but mostly as men.

The Aftermath

He would be on a flight to Maryland in time, where his short term future was waiting.  For me, this trip and the memories created would stir my soul for some time to come. 2:20am is a new friend.

Being a parent is precious, fragile and a gift. In the moment though, most don’t see that.  Neither child or parent.

Glenn,  “The Accidental Tourist”