Backpacking The Oregon Coast Trail, Day 2: Kindness & Wandering Thoughts
It was not a wonderful, blissful night of sleep. I woke up twice to pee and then tossed and turned after 3 AM.
The view ahead for Day 2 on the OCT
But morning is the first of many opportunities during the day to shift your attitude and embrace whatever is in front of you. What’s immediately in front of me are three things: coffee (ASAP!), some oatmeal, and my still-soaking-wet shoes and socks.
I prep my coffee, grab my shoes and socks, and walk over to the Visitors Center bathroom. Guess what it has? An old-school hand dryer! I proceed to dry my footwear excruciatingly slowly, sipping on my coffee with one hand and rotating stuff under the hand dryer.
This goes on for about an hour, and I swear everything is burning hot but still wet! It will have to suffice. I can’t stand in this bathroom anymore!
It takes me forever to break down camp; I’m just not in the flow of doing this yet. When I’m finally finished stuffing my backpack, I decide that today’s lengthy beach hike is a compelling reason to bust open the gaiters I bought at REI. I spend a good 20 minutes absolutely confounded by them. They simply don’t fit right and I feel like I’m doing something wrong. How can a person not figure out a simple pair of gaiters?
Then I take a closer look at them:
Damnit, REI! This “new” pair was packaged with two right gaiters — one large, one extra large. I throw them in my pack with a disgusted grunt.
Before leaving the campground, I run into two other park rangers and they actually apologize for the inconvenience of the hiker/biker bathroom being closed. I’m taken aback by this. The bathroom at the Visitor Center is maybe 100 yards from my tent, and the showers in the RV loop are across the street. I explain to them that when you’re walking 400+ miles, that’s hardly an inconvenience.
They wish me luck on my journey with what sounds like genuine enthusiasm. More great humans.
As I retrace my steps back to the Peter Iredale shipwreck to continue south on the beach, I’m mindful of the fact that today nature is giving me dry weather, sunshine, and blue sky. I feel grateful and rejuvenated the second I hit the sand and hear the surf.
Bonnie Henderson’s guidebook for the OCT suggests a massive 24-mile trek today to reach the Tillamook Head backpackers camp. I decide to go as far as Seaside, which is about 16 trail miles. That’s the furthest I’ve ever hiked in a day, and I accomplished that with a day pack, not a heavy duty 40 pound backpack. I feel like I lack the experience, the stamina, and the daylight to trek that far in a single day.
But the secondary reason to slash 8 miles from the itinerary is more compelling: K’s own adventure on the Oregon coast finds her at an AirBNB in Seaside later today. I can split the cost with her and have my own comfy bed instead of having to reach the hiker/biker camp.
My Wandering Mind
As the beach stretches out into the distance and the sun warms my face, my mind wanders. How many people finish thru-hikes like this, or the PCT, or the Appalachian Trail, on their first attempt? How much do their packs weigh? How much weight do they lose? Did they quit their jobs? Will I lose a toenail? When will I want to quit? Should I have an edible while I walk? Should I blog about this? What was that Angels & Airwaves album I’ve been meaning to listen to?
My brain is a clearly on its own independent journey.
Then my eyes and my mind sync up and focus on this expanse of seemingly endless coastline behind and in front of me. I realize I’ve filmed it three or four times in the last hour. The crashing surf, the green grass coating the headlands. Devoid of human intervention. Just nature. Everywhere I can see.
It’s hard to digest this, because I don't have any basis for comparison. 16 miles of uninterrupted beach that you can spend sunup to sundown walking across? And that’s without needing to plan out rounding any points during low tide.
I know the Lost Coast trail exists in California, but that’s a fairly remote “destination hike.” The fact that Oregonians can simply walk out of their houses or drive up to a beach access lot and literally walk on the beach all day is… well, despite not being able to process that fact clearly, it invokes some jealousy!
After only four miles, the sharp threat of impending blisters motivates me to ditch my shoes. The hard, cold sand along the shoreline feels amazing!
I don’t know if this is the right call for my feet, but I guess I'll find out as these beautiful beach miles accumulate.
The start of these blisters after less than two days and a handful of miles baffles me. When I did a 4-day backpacking trip in the Yosemite backcountry, the mountainous terrain was more rugged, it was hotter, and I was wearing the exact same trail runners and the exact same hiking socks. No blisters that entire trip.
Kindness In Gearhart and Seaside
About a half mile before reaching the beach access point where I’ll exit and then head to Gearheart and Seaside, I finally notice the cars on the beach. I flash back to the last several miles and vaguely recall seeing them zip by me occasionally. I was either in a trance or simply unfazed.
I see dogs happily scampering around, kids playing with each other, a couple gathering driftwood and starting a fire, people flying ornate kites, a man fishing. The beach life encapsulated, all in a moving frame for my eyes.
I grudgingly leave the beach, not realizing how happy my feet have been until a gravel road forces me to throw my shoes back on.
It ended up being about 13 miles of beach walking today; after another 3 I’ll land in Seaside.
As I reach the city center of Gearhart, I see an inviting “Open” sign at a coffee shop called Sleepy Monk. I order an oat milk latte and the barista does something I appreciate beyond measure: he makes it hot enough that it will actually stay enjoyable for more than 2 minutes. As he hands it over with a smile, he wishes me happy hiking and invites me to use the outside patio furniture as long as I need to since he’s closing up.
I am so grateful for this coffee.
All that matters in this moment is this extra hot, rich, comforting cup of delicious caffeine.
As I’m sipping it and double-checking the last section of today’s hike (all road walking), a lady strolls by and extends a friendly hello. She asks where I’m going and I find myself telling her all about the Oregon Coast Trail since she’s recently moved to Oregon. It turns out she’s done sections of the Appalachian Trail!
Then she asks if she can get me anything; anything at all. I honestly don’t have an answer… maybe I should have one ready for next time?
During the last mile of Gearhart before I enter Seaside, I see a police cruiser pull someone over on this busy street. His partner breaks off and walks around to close the car’s passenger door so that I can pass by safely without having to walk into the traffic or dip down into the ditch.
He’s also super nice and wishes me a great day. What’s in Gearhart’s water?
Today’s journey finally ends as I arrive at K’s beachfront rental in Seaside. I expected to eat a boring backpacker meal, but she surprises me with veggie tacos (complete with generous amounts of avocado) chewy oatmeal raisin cookies, and an ice-cold Marine Haze from Pelican Brewing.
I don’t know if this is considered trail magic, but it sure feels magical. The entire day has been. I feel spoiled by nature, by my friend, and by the life itself.
And by this bed. Holy shit this bed is perfect and I never want to leave it…
Previously on the Oregon Coast Trail:
Jason Evangelho
Jason Evangelho
Jason Evangelho
Member discussion