Backpacking The Oregon Coast Trail, Day 3: Tillamook Head
The highest form of cruelty is having to leave this perfect bed after an uninterrupted and blissful night of restful sleep, but the trail is calling! Today will be my first hike through the Oregon coast’s headlands, beginning at Tillamook Head.
Before I hit the sand, K makes an absolutely scrumptious breakfast of diced red potatoes, scrambled eggs with melty Tillamook cheese, fresh blueberries and strawberries, and avocado.
I’m estimating today’s hike sitting somewhere between 12 and 15 miles. That will put me up, through, and over Tillamook head, down to Indian Beach (the famous location where parts of Goonies and Point Break were filmed), then through more headland and across Cannon Beach. The guidebook I’m using indicates that beach camping is legal along a small stretch between Silver Point and Hug Point. Because I’ll be skipping the Tillamook Head backpacker campground tonight, I figure I’ll check beach camping off my bucket list.
I’m out the door at 10am, and the first half mile feels like a slog. My pack is a noticeable, heavy burden. I keep fidgeting with the load lifter and hip belt in futile attempts to make weight less noticeable.
About 3/4 of a mile down Seaside beach, my hiking legs start to materialize. Aside from an emerging blister on my right pinky toe, I'm feeling energetic and ready to just attack this day and enjoy the journey.
I reach the end of the beach after a couple brisk miles, with Tillamook Head jutting out into the ocean, ready to cue up some adventure. Beckoning. Let’s climb!
A realization hits out of nowhere: nature is god to me. I love it. I respect it. I’m endlessly humbled by it. I’m not a religious person, but at this moment I feel an abundance of spirituality welling up inside of me.
I walk up Sunset Boulevard and linger for a moment at the Vietnam memorial in Seltzer Park, and tears well up in my eyes. I have no idea why.
Moving forward, I marvel at the well-groomed landscapes. The houses ooze with personality and charm. Are these vacation rentals? If not, do the owners appreciate the jaw dropping views they can wake up every morning? Do they make it a point to put their feet in the sand once in a while, or do they take where they live for granted, like I’ve been guilty of doing?
The neighborhood melts away as I gradually climb the road to the beginning of the Tillamook Head trail. My anticipation ramps up as I cross the small bridge leading into the Elmer Feldenheimer State Natural Area.
This will be my first taste of hiking through the Oregon coast’s lush headlands. I find myself gingerly stepping through the muddy trail. After less than 1/2 a mile I think “nature is giving me mud today, let’s embrace it” and I start happily sloshing through it. I’ll wash my clothes and my shoes eventually…
Between muddy sections of trail that use massive tree roots for steps, and meandering portions that remind me of some fairly tale enchanted forest, I see my first stunning Trillium flower. They apparently take seven years to bloom, and their delicate beauty seems well worth the wait.
I also get up close and personal with some skunk cabbage, and I’m fascinated by both.
Skunk Cabbage (left) and Trillium (right)
During the 1300ft ascent I meet Fabian from Spain, who lives in Washington with his family because of the abundant access to nature. I manage to keep pace with him for about 20 minutes as I tell him what I know about the Oregon Coast Trail. We share stories about adventuring in Croatia and Spain, discuss the differences of living in Europe versus the United States, and we both express our love of this coastline based on what little we’ve seen so far.
Then I meet fellow backpackers Maddie and Caleb, and their jovial dog Bear. They’re hiking northbound, returning from the Tillamook Head backpacker camp. We take a breather on the trail and swap tips on where to watch sea lions. They recommend bringing some binoculars to the WWII lookout near the camp; I enthusiastically tell them to hike the Bluff Trail at Montaña de Oro in California.
It’s an uplifting conversation with anecdotes about backpacking and nature and the pure bliss of hiking. They encourage me with an enthusiastic “You’ve got this!” as we say our goodbyes.
If I would’ve stuck to my original itinerary yesterday — that massive 24 mile day — and camped at Tillamook head last night, I would’ve been able to hang out with them and their awesome dog.
I find myself deeply surprised to feel regret over this. I crave solitude on the trail, and honestly in most aspects of my life. But I felt a connection with them, as if I’d briefly found my tribe before parting ways. I think it was mutual.
Bolstered by these trail conversations, I plow forward, thinking how ascending from sea level to 1500 feet is exponentially easier than hiking in Yosemite, where all the trails begin at higher than 4000 feet.
I walk back that thought after another 3 miles. This is muddy, technical, steep terrain, where you need to be mindful of every step. Despite the fun factor, it’s humid and challenging. I swear 6 miles of this feels like 16 miles of beach. My knee is starting to protest, and I’m growing concerned about reaching my target beach camping spot tonight.
3 of the roughly 60 times I probably stopped to capture the jaw-dropping, varied scenery.
Also? The OCT guidebook doesn’t mention that you’ll feel compelled to stop, I don’t know, roughly 20 times per mile to take photos of fungus and flowers and vistas and downed trees and towering sitka spruce, and basically attempt to capture the magnificence of what you’re seeing.
I’m not exaggerating.
After about 7 miles of hiking, I end up meeting K at the backpacker camp area, which features Adirondack shelters and a community firepit. She’s been doing a shorter hike — the Clatsop Loop trail up from Indian Beach.
We share some snacks and compare our trail experience on each side of Tillamook Head. I’m feeling utterly drained, and I can’t push forward another several miles today.
So I’m facing two options: either camp right here, shorting today’s mileage even more, or continue a couple miles further down to Indian Beach, split a room in nearby Rockaway Beach, and pick up the OCT trail tomorrow.
With a touch of shock, it strikes me that the guidebook’s camp-to-camp itinerary expected me to reach this very spot after only the second day, following a massive 24-mile hike. I did 16 miles yesterday and was absolutely knackered. Today, I’ve barely reached 8 miles and I’m ready to call this one done.
My knee isn’t happy with me. And I peel off my socks to find 3 blisters.
The enormity of what I’m trying to accomplish starts to present itself in a very tangible way. The Oregon Coast Trail is as aggressively beautiful as it is aggressively rugged. I suspect this will be far more taxing than I anticipated.
But as John Muir once said: “One must labor for beauty as for bread.”
Previously on the Oregon Coast Trail:
Jason Evangelho
Jason Evangelho
Jason Evangelho
Jason Evangelho
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